Pure Fury
A friend's dad once stormed up to me and threatened to "punch your stupid face in" because I pointed a camera at him. I was 11. Have you ever done something innocent or made a harmless joke that ended in threats to your person? Tell us about it.
Thanks to Skullfunkerry for the suggestion
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 12:28)
A friend's dad once stormed up to me and threatened to "punch your stupid face in" because I pointed a camera at him. I was 11. Have you ever done something innocent or made a harmless joke that ended in threats to your person? Tell us about it.
Thanks to Skullfunkerry for the suggestion
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 12:28)
This question is now closed.
I was in a pub in Hertford once on a cold Sunday in December
There was a huge fireplace with a fire blazing in it so me and my mate stood by it to get a warm.
Anyway, this pissed bloke walks past and trips on the hearth, so he's falling headlong into the flames.
Me and my mate managed to reach out and grab him, saving him from terrible burn injuries.
He thanked us by coming out swinging and calling us a pair of queer cunts.
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 18:31, 5 replies)
There was a huge fireplace with a fire blazing in it so me and my mate stood by it to get a warm.
Anyway, this pissed bloke walks past and trips on the hearth, so he's falling headlong into the flames.
Me and my mate managed to reach out and grab him, saving him from terrible burn injuries.
He thanked us by coming out swinging and calling us a pair of queer cunts.
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 18:31, 5 replies)
You should have seen how my dad reacted when I declined to wear smart trousers to a family christening.
Fucking cunt.
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 18:03, 2 replies)
Fucking cunt.
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 18:03, 2 replies)
When I was about 10, I found a car's petrol cap in the gutter as I walked home from school.
I thought I'd see if it belonged to any of the cars in the vicinity. The first car I went to had its petrol cap, and was owned by a REALLY angry tradey who demanded to know why I was "fucking around with his car". My explanation (incl. exhibit A, viz. one petrol cap) didn't seem to quell his annoyance and I was told to bugger off :'(
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 17:22, 1 reply)
I thought I'd see if it belonged to any of the cars in the vicinity. The first car I went to had its petrol cap, and was owned by a REALLY angry tradey who demanded to know why I was "fucking around with his car". My explanation (incl. exhibit A, viz. one petrol cap) didn't seem to quell his annoyance and I was told to bugger off :'(
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 17:22, 1 reply)
I bought a samsung clamshell phone in 2001
So imagine my surprise when my mugger on NYE kicked me repeatedly in the head because "It was fucking shit"
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 17:13, Reply)
So imagine my surprise when my mugger on NYE kicked me repeatedly in the head because "It was fucking shit"
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 17:13, Reply)
I once broke into my ex's place and performed a number of acts of vandalism
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 17:12, 1 reply)
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 17:12, 1 reply)
I made the mistake...
of extending my arm, like one might do to hail a taxi. I was quite drunk and my vision subsequently impaired. I figured that if I tried to flag down every vehicle, sooner or later one would be a taxi. Turns out a car full of youths objected to me doing this and got out and kicked seven shades of shit out of me. So in the end I didn't need a taxi... my house was right next to the hospital.
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 16:56, Reply)
of extending my arm, like one might do to hail a taxi. I was quite drunk and my vision subsequently impaired. I figured that if I tried to flag down every vehicle, sooner or later one would be a taxi. Turns out a car full of youths objected to me doing this and got out and kicked seven shades of shit out of me. So in the end I didn't need a taxi... my house was right next to the hospital.
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 16:56, Reply)
my brother again
"WHERE ARE YOU, YOU HORRIBLE FUCKING CUNT? I'LL KILL YOU, YOU FILTHY BASTARD! GET HERE! HOW DARE YOU COME INTO MY FUCKING HOUSE!? I'LL GET YOU, I'LL KILL YOU, YOU PRICK, YOU'LL WISH YOU WERE NEVER FUCKING BORN!"
he REALLY hates bluebottles
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 16:41, 11 replies)
"WHERE ARE YOU, YOU HORRIBLE FUCKING CUNT? I'LL KILL YOU, YOU FILTHY BASTARD! GET HERE! HOW DARE YOU COME INTO MY FUCKING HOUSE!? I'LL GET YOU, I'LL KILL YOU, YOU PRICK, YOU'LL WISH YOU WERE NEVER FUCKING BORN!"
he REALLY hates bluebottles
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 16:41, 11 replies)
once, many years ago
i was in the bath, with an erection, busting for a piss
long story short, i accidentally pissed in my own mouth
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 16:37, 1 reply)
i was in the bath, with an erection, busting for a piss
long story short, i accidentally pissed in my own mouth
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 16:37, 1 reply)
My mates dad punched a swan once
I guess he must have been pretty cross. My mates dad, not the swan. Although the swan must have been pretty miffed I suppose. I'll aks him and get back to you.
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 16:29, 3 replies)
I guess he must have been pretty cross. My mates dad, not the swan. Although the swan must have been pretty miffed I suppose. I'll aks him and get back to you.
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 16:29, 3 replies)
I used to have quite bad luck getting into weird altercations
One time I was walking out of the door of a pub, quite happily, when a woman I'd never seen before stepped out in front of me and punched me in the face as hard as she could, then started laughing. My natural reaction was 'What the fuck was that for?'. At which point a bunch of people manhandled me out of the pub and the landlady came out to tell me I was barred 'because people don't just punch people they don't know in the face, so you must have done something!'.
Another time, a man wanted to fight me because HE'D spilled MY pint. Still can't work that one out.
And I once nearly got into a fight with a local football team who were having their Christmas party, because one of them heard me sigh when his mate was being sick in the car-park, and thought it was disrespectful.
Finally, a guy I was at school with challenged me to a fight because apparently I was too friendly with his girlfriend. It might have made some sense at the time, but this happened when we were about 25 and I'd not seen him or the girlfriend for 7 years. They had also split up two years previously...
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 16:09, 15 replies)
One time I was walking out of the door of a pub, quite happily, when a woman I'd never seen before stepped out in front of me and punched me in the face as hard as she could, then started laughing. My natural reaction was 'What the fuck was that for?'. At which point a bunch of people manhandled me out of the pub and the landlady came out to tell me I was barred 'because people don't just punch people they don't know in the face, so you must have done something!'.
Another time, a man wanted to fight me because HE'D spilled MY pint. Still can't work that one out.
And I once nearly got into a fight with a local football team who were having their Christmas party, because one of them heard me sigh when his mate was being sick in the car-park, and thought it was disrespectful.
Finally, a guy I was at school with challenged me to a fight because apparently I was too friendly with his girlfriend. It might have made some sense at the time, but this happened when we were about 25 and I'd not seen him or the girlfriend for 7 years. They had also split up two years previously...
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 16:09, 15 replies)
Duffers
Was a maths teacher at my old school. Well into his fifties, wore a lot of threadbare tweed, had wild white hair and awful breath.
Duffers lacked the required social skills to be able to handle a brief conversation at a Tescoās till, let alone the craft to boss 30, unruly, 15 year-old scrotes.
This story concerns one double maths lesson on a hot summerās afternoon. Duffers had been busy writing on the blackboard throughout the class, all the while entertaining us with his poor attempts at teaching trigonometry. His back to the class throughout most of his diatribe - members of the congregation had been peppering his jacket with carefully-targeted spit balls of chewed-up paper. So much so that his back looked like a Joey Deacon-inspired Blue Peter creation.
This went without incident until someone missed and the small, soggy mess whistled past Duffersā ear and made a satisfying āsplotā noise on the blackboard. Time stood still for about 10 seconds before Duffers started to convulse violently, hands trebling and head shaking like a shitting dog.
He then slowly spun around on the spot and uttered some immortal words, all the while spit spewing from his gritted teeth: āIf I ever found out who did thatā¦ IāLL MURDER THEM!ā
The shock lasted for about five seconds, before the majority of the class responded by repeating the line back to him. His anger deflated, Duffers ran out of the class a quivering mess.
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 16:08, 3 replies)
Was a maths teacher at my old school. Well into his fifties, wore a lot of threadbare tweed, had wild white hair and awful breath.
Duffers lacked the required social skills to be able to handle a brief conversation at a Tescoās till, let alone the craft to boss 30, unruly, 15 year-old scrotes.
This story concerns one double maths lesson on a hot summerās afternoon. Duffers had been busy writing on the blackboard throughout the class, all the while entertaining us with his poor attempts at teaching trigonometry. His back to the class throughout most of his diatribe - members of the congregation had been peppering his jacket with carefully-targeted spit balls of chewed-up paper. So much so that his back looked like a Joey Deacon-inspired Blue Peter creation.
This went without incident until someone missed and the small, soggy mess whistled past Duffersā ear and made a satisfying āsplotā noise on the blackboard. Time stood still for about 10 seconds before Duffers started to convulse violently, hands trebling and head shaking like a shitting dog.
He then slowly spun around on the spot and uttered some immortal words, all the while spit spewing from his gritted teeth: āIf I ever found out who did thatā¦ IāLL MURDER THEM!ā
The shock lasted for about five seconds, before the majority of the class responded by repeating the line back to him. His anger deflated, Duffers ran out of the class a quivering mess.
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 16:08, 3 replies)
A lad on the tube
Got very upset with me because apparently I was disrespecting him and treating him like a pussyole. Why did I got to be so harsh to āim bruv, innit? He was part of the a rough crew and was well connected, bruv, and I ought to just show him some respect and not be dissing him.
By ādissing himā he meant not giving him my phone. He āwanted to make an important callā and heād forgotten his, innit? I inquired how he intended to make a call whilst 100m underground on the Piccadilly Line, which he didnāt like.
He was the worst mugger ever. After I told him to fuck off he tried it on two girls in the next carriage who just laughed at him. When he got off he made cutthroat gestures at me as he walked along the platform and I laughed at him. The whole impression of menace could have been better achieved if he hadnāt had his little brother with him, still in school uniform.
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 15:47, 5 replies)
Got very upset with me because apparently I was disrespecting him and treating him like a pussyole. Why did I got to be so harsh to āim bruv, innit? He was part of the a rough crew and was well connected, bruv, and I ought to just show him some respect and not be dissing him.
By ādissing himā he meant not giving him my phone. He āwanted to make an important callā and heād forgotten his, innit? I inquired how he intended to make a call whilst 100m underground on the Piccadilly Line, which he didnāt like.
He was the worst mugger ever. After I told him to fuck off he tried it on two girls in the next carriage who just laughed at him. When he got off he made cutthroat gestures at me as he walked along the platform and I laughed at him. The whole impression of menace could have been better achieved if he hadnāt had his little brother with him, still in school uniform.
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 15:47, 5 replies)
Strangely angry train man.
I'll be the first (well, maybe after some prompting) that my people skills are occasionally lacking, which results in me being left baffled in a variety of situations. However, one time recently left me confused as to why the man in question thought this was acceptable behaviour.
I was approaching a three-seater bench at the end of a working day in the train station. I was knackered, footsore and just wanted to sit down. On this bench was a rather large gentleman. A rather large gentleman in his mid fifties, wearing thick jam-jar glasses, a suit jacket that had never seen an iron, and teeth that would keep a cosmetic dentist on the gravy train for life. He was occupying one and a half seats, and his bag the second half of the other one.
On the third, and in my way, was an empty bottle of strawberry milkshake. Shifting it out of my way to sit down, he suddenly very aggressively leaned over, and shouted at me "Why did you move that?!" as though I had committed some gross personal offence and insulted his honour. Not liking his tone, I simply said "So I could sit down. And there's no need to be so rude and aggressive." Looking back, I found my tone quite reasonable, given the behaviour of the angry mound of wrinkly blubber sharing the bench with me. Thinking that was the end of it, I slipped on a pair of headphones and ignored him. Sadly it was not to be.
A couple of minutes later, I hear the train being announced over the calming sound of Vaughan Williams. Standing up to go to the edge of the platform, I get a tap on my shoulder. I turned round to see my earlier, and angry, conversational partner standing directly behind me, bellowing at me to move down the platform so he could be first in line. Laughing at him and saying "No", he shouts his request again, and louder this time. Ignoring the request, I advised him to perhaps consider calming down as it wouldn't be doing his blood pressure any good, and hinting at the possibility of a heart attack for good measure. I then turned round again, telling him I was ignoring him.
Another shoulder tap, and another repeated order to move down the platform. "Leave it fella", I said. "It just isn't worth it". "I never leave things, I always finish them" said the man, taking off his glasses, and by now turning a rather unhealthy shade of puce. I turned round again, and looked around. People were staring at this man, transfixed, yet not doing anything. Well, they can hardly be expected to tangle with a clearly mental individual, I suppose.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the train coming in, down the platform. I stepped smartly off, picking a random place on the platform, and the train came to a halt with the doors smartly in front of me. The puce-faced man now turned a rather unhealthy shade of purple, before picking a different set of doors with which to get on the train. Well, he did say to move...
Reflecting on all of this later though, I bear the man no ill-will or wish him to fall off a cliff or whatever. I only pity the man. I mean, who considers starting confrontations in train stations over an empty bottle of strawberry milkshake to be reasonable behaviour? How bad must his life actually be?
TL:DR- Angry man in train station tries to cause a fight over something pointless.
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 14:54, 19 replies)
I'll be the first (well, maybe after some prompting) that my people skills are occasionally lacking, which results in me being left baffled in a variety of situations. However, one time recently left me confused as to why the man in question thought this was acceptable behaviour.
I was approaching a three-seater bench at the end of a working day in the train station. I was knackered, footsore and just wanted to sit down. On this bench was a rather large gentleman. A rather large gentleman in his mid fifties, wearing thick jam-jar glasses, a suit jacket that had never seen an iron, and teeth that would keep a cosmetic dentist on the gravy train for life. He was occupying one and a half seats, and his bag the second half of the other one.
On the third, and in my way, was an empty bottle of strawberry milkshake. Shifting it out of my way to sit down, he suddenly very aggressively leaned over, and shouted at me "Why did you move that?!" as though I had committed some gross personal offence and insulted his honour. Not liking his tone, I simply said "So I could sit down. And there's no need to be so rude and aggressive." Looking back, I found my tone quite reasonable, given the behaviour of the angry mound of wrinkly blubber sharing the bench with me. Thinking that was the end of it, I slipped on a pair of headphones and ignored him. Sadly it was not to be.
A couple of minutes later, I hear the train being announced over the calming sound of Vaughan Williams. Standing up to go to the edge of the platform, I get a tap on my shoulder. I turned round to see my earlier, and angry, conversational partner standing directly behind me, bellowing at me to move down the platform so he could be first in line. Laughing at him and saying "No", he shouts his request again, and louder this time. Ignoring the request, I advised him to perhaps consider calming down as it wouldn't be doing his blood pressure any good, and hinting at the possibility of a heart attack for good measure. I then turned round again, telling him I was ignoring him.
Another shoulder tap, and another repeated order to move down the platform. "Leave it fella", I said. "It just isn't worth it". "I never leave things, I always finish them" said the man, taking off his glasses, and by now turning a rather unhealthy shade of puce. I turned round again, and looked around. People were staring at this man, transfixed, yet not doing anything. Well, they can hardly be expected to tangle with a clearly mental individual, I suppose.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the train coming in, down the platform. I stepped smartly off, picking a random place on the platform, and the train came to a halt with the doors smartly in front of me. The puce-faced man now turned a rather unhealthy shade of purple, before picking a different set of doors with which to get on the train. Well, he did say to move...
Reflecting on all of this later though, I bear the man no ill-will or wish him to fall off a cliff or whatever. I only pity the man. I mean, who considers starting confrontations in train stations over an empty bottle of strawberry milkshake to be reasonable behaviour? How bad must his life actually be?
TL:DR- Angry man in train station tries to cause a fight over something pointless.
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 14:54, 19 replies)
some of the old lags probably remember this from the good old days
Pre-season softball meets can be a real drag. A load of competitive dads
and uninterested mums get together in the clubhouse to 'plan' the season.
The fathers talk about training regimes and fixture lists, whilst the women
use the get-together to gossip and natter over equally inane issues.
The only saving grace at these interminably dull events is Bella, the club
secretary. She's a knockout...with two wonderfully large softballs - if you
know what I mean!
Last season I found myself sat with Reggie, an old mate with whom I can
share stories dating back to high-school. Reg, like me is now 'happily'
married and both our good wives were also chatting with each other at the
back of the bar. Reg and I spied Bella collecting glasses from the next
table, she was, as usual, wearing a particularly low-cut top, with a couple
of buttons more than necessary undone.
'I'll never tire of looking at those tits', said Reggie, or at least he thought
he'd said. But by some awful piece of unintended comic timing, Reggie's
comment came at a moment of near perfect silence in the room.
Everybody heard.
The whole room stared at us, and our wives reddened deeply with
embarrassment.
Reggie took stock of the situation. How was he going to get out of this
one?
'For fucks sake Rob!' He yelled, pointing at me, 'You're married with a
kid...she's half your age mate.'
And with that he slowly got up from the table, leaving everybody staring at
me with the horrible hatred and pity reserved for middle-aged perverts. I
caught Bella's eye for a second, she slowly and purposefully did the
buttons up on her blouse and flounced out the room.
I don't think I've ever squared that one with the missus, nor with the
softball club for that matter. Still, a mate's a mate, eh?
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 14:48, 6 replies)
Pre-season softball meets can be a real drag. A load of competitive dads
and uninterested mums get together in the clubhouse to 'plan' the season.
The fathers talk about training regimes and fixture lists, whilst the women
use the get-together to gossip and natter over equally inane issues.
The only saving grace at these interminably dull events is Bella, the club
secretary. She's a knockout...with two wonderfully large softballs - if you
know what I mean!
Last season I found myself sat with Reggie, an old mate with whom I can
share stories dating back to high-school. Reg, like me is now 'happily'
married and both our good wives were also chatting with each other at the
back of the bar. Reg and I spied Bella collecting glasses from the next
table, she was, as usual, wearing a particularly low-cut top, with a couple
of buttons more than necessary undone.
'I'll never tire of looking at those tits', said Reggie, or at least he thought
he'd said. But by some awful piece of unintended comic timing, Reggie's
comment came at a moment of near perfect silence in the room.
Everybody heard.
The whole room stared at us, and our wives reddened deeply with
embarrassment.
Reggie took stock of the situation. How was he going to get out of this
one?
'For fucks sake Rob!' He yelled, pointing at me, 'You're married with a
kid...she's half your age mate.'
And with that he slowly got up from the table, leaving everybody staring at
me with the horrible hatred and pity reserved for middle-aged perverts. I
caught Bella's eye for a second, she slowly and purposefully did the
buttons up on her blouse and flounced out the room.
I don't think I've ever squared that one with the missus, nor with the
softball club for that matter. Still, a mate's a mate, eh?
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 14:48, 6 replies)
My wife made a drink and put a damp spoon in the sugar bowl.
Things went a little blurry after that and I have no recollection of what happened next, but now my wife is nowhere to be seen. At least the time was productive, I seem to have managed to lay a rather smashing new patio.
I'm sure my wife will appreciate it.
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 14:48, Reply)
Things went a little blurry after that and I have no recollection of what happened next, but now my wife is nowhere to be seen. At least the time was productive, I seem to have managed to lay a rather smashing new patio.
I'm sure my wife will appreciate it.
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 14:48, Reply)
i totally lost it the other day when i asked for tea with milk and no sugar and they put sugar in
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 13:47, Reply)
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 13:47, Reply)
Bit of a short fuse, me.
Coming home on the Tube one evening after work, I'd bought a bottle of wine to ease me out of what had been a truly manure-laden day. The previous train had just left (with about twelve people per square foot on it) so I spotted a spare seat and sat down to wait for the next one. Too hard, as it turned out: my bottle of wine exploded on contact with the ground and gushed its entire contents over the station platform. A kindly lady passing by witnessed the whole event and asked, with a concerned expression, "Oh, did you spill your wine?", so I reassured her by looking her in the eyes and roaring "FUCK OFF!".
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 13:29, Reply)
Coming home on the Tube one evening after work, I'd bought a bottle of wine to ease me out of what had been a truly manure-laden day. The previous train had just left (with about twelve people per square foot on it) so I spotted a spare seat and sat down to wait for the next one. Too hard, as it turned out: my bottle of wine exploded on contact with the ground and gushed its entire contents over the station platform. A kindly lady passing by witnessed the whole event and asked, with a concerned expression, "Oh, did you spill your wine?", so I reassured her by looking her in the eyes and roaring "FUCK OFF!".
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 13:29, Reply)
Good 'ole London....
... where as a 15 year old lad I was stood on the rear platform of an old Routemaster red bus ready to hop off when the bus came to a halt at the next bus stop.
As it stopped, I looked up from my normal teenager looking at the ground stance so I could see where I was going and navigate my way off the bus into the crowd waiting at the bus stop. It was an early weekend afternoon in the Autumn and the weather was grey, so it seems were peoples moods.
This was when, after a fraction of a second eye contact, a typically cheerful local man waiting to board the bus said "Don't look at me like that you cunt or I'll ram your fucking glasses down your throat!".
You've gotta love London. I moved away as soon as I was 18 and I try go back as rarely as possible.
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 13:19, 4 replies)
... where as a 15 year old lad I was stood on the rear platform of an old Routemaster red bus ready to hop off when the bus came to a halt at the next bus stop.
As it stopped, I looked up from my normal teenager looking at the ground stance so I could see where I was going and navigate my way off the bus into the crowd waiting at the bus stop. It was an early weekend afternoon in the Autumn and the weather was grey, so it seems were peoples moods.
This was when, after a fraction of a second eye contact, a typically cheerful local man waiting to board the bus said "Don't look at me like that you cunt or I'll ram your fucking glasses down your throat!".
You've gotta love London. I moved away as soon as I was 18 and I try go back as rarely as possible.
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 13:19, 4 replies)
A friend's dad once stormed up to me
and threatened to "punch your stupid face in" because I was me.
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 13:17, Reply)
and threatened to "punch your stupid face in" because I was me.
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 13:17, Reply)
Roasty McPea
Ah memories...
Back in me yoof, in the dark satanic MIGHTY Macclesfield, much drinking and moving about to music had taken place at The George. We moved in our collective to the local burger shop. While waiting outside, a local lass passed us by shouting at anyone who listened. Seeing she was a bit refreshed, we waited out the storm and in time she passed us by and in to the burger shop we went, half a dozen at a time as it was only small.
Having successfully obtained the food, I wandered into the night once more. She was back. With her 'man'.
"it was him, he were laughin at us" she said to anyone who stood close enough, her fella then gave them a good dose of lookin at... none of us caved though and the pair moved over to a corner with some more of their friends that had gathered.
I turned to one of my fellow night dwellers and whispered (I'm sure I whispered it, but alas no, twas more of a shout) "Aren't ya glad she's not ya mum eh?" I then took I bite of my burger, feeling triumphant I had summed the situation up with such wit.
Her fella heard my claim and came bounding over. I managed to duck his fist of fury that was aimed square at my face. But his momentum threw him on my back. I was now giving a piggy back to a man who wanted to hurt me in many ways. He had a good grip of me too. At this point I remember vividly shouting out "ay! watch me burger!".
His arm had swung up ready to deliver the killer blow. At this point 2 things happened in quick succession. first my mate managed to grab his arm mid flight, stopping the punch. and second the blokes mates came running over shouting "leave it, it weren't him, leave it".
More importantly, the burger had survived (it was a double cheese burger, Ā£2.50). I Don't know what I'd've done if i'd dropped that burger. Probably bought another I guess.
Length? I never apologies for length, only content.
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 13:15, Reply)
Ah memories...
Back in me yoof, in the dark satanic MIGHTY Macclesfield, much drinking and moving about to music had taken place at The George. We moved in our collective to the local burger shop. While waiting outside, a local lass passed us by shouting at anyone who listened. Seeing she was a bit refreshed, we waited out the storm and in time she passed us by and in to the burger shop we went, half a dozen at a time as it was only small.
Having successfully obtained the food, I wandered into the night once more. She was back. With her 'man'.
"it was him, he were laughin at us" she said to anyone who stood close enough, her fella then gave them a good dose of lookin at... none of us caved though and the pair moved over to a corner with some more of their friends that had gathered.
I turned to one of my fellow night dwellers and whispered (I'm sure I whispered it, but alas no, twas more of a shout) "Aren't ya glad she's not ya mum eh?" I then took I bite of my burger, feeling triumphant I had summed the situation up with such wit.
Her fella heard my claim and came bounding over. I managed to duck his fist of fury that was aimed square at my face. But his momentum threw him on my back. I was now giving a piggy back to a man who wanted to hurt me in many ways. He had a good grip of me too. At this point I remember vividly shouting out "ay! watch me burger!".
His arm had swung up ready to deliver the killer blow. At this point 2 things happened in quick succession. first my mate managed to grab his arm mid flight, stopping the punch. and second the blokes mates came running over shouting "leave it, it weren't him, leave it".
More importantly, the burger had survived (it was a double cheese burger, Ā£2.50). I Don't know what I'd've done if i'd dropped that burger. Probably bought another I guess.
Length? I never apologies for length, only content.
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 13:15, Reply)
I posted this once...you can't imagine the fury! In fact, it's still burning to this day.
b3ta.com/questions/anon/post614634
(AB - do the honours and hoist up the old screengrab, ta)
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 13:13, 4 replies)
b3ta.com/questions/anon/post614634
(AB - do the honours and hoist up the old screengrab, ta)
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 13:13, 4 replies)
Seeing as shit is a running theme.
Some dirty bastard has filled the jobby engine with bangers and mash and just left it. I nearly got wet feet just then.
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 12:53, 4 replies)
Some dirty bastard has filled the jobby engine with bangers and mash and just left it. I nearly got wet feet just then.
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 12:53, 4 replies)
Walking home from the pub one day, in a very cheerful mood, eating chips
saw two other chaps on the street and drunkenly said "evening" and offered them a chip. I was immediately accused of taking the piss and threatened with a pasting so I did what any self respecting internet hard man would do and legged it. I got to my mums house which was on the street I was on, ran into the house and locked the door. They started hammering on the door so I opened the window and said that I had had a lovely evening and I really didn't want any trouble and to please leave me alone. They said I had to come down and shake hands. I refused so they kicked my mums front door down. It was a multi locking point double glazed PVC door and they were in such a rage that they actually kicked the frame out of the wall. My mums place is on the main street of the town so it was all seen on CCTV, the police arrived, they were arrested, it all went to court and they had to pay a fine which covered about half the value of the door. Their defence in court was that they thought I was taking the piss. I haven't offered a stranger a chip since. The worst part of the whole thing was phoning my wife at 2am to explain that I was going to be late home because I had to give a statement to the police because I had ran to mummy when threatened and got her front door kicked in.
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 12:52, 9 replies)
saw two other chaps on the street and drunkenly said "evening" and offered them a chip. I was immediately accused of taking the piss and threatened with a pasting so I did what any self respecting internet hard man would do and legged it. I got to my mums house which was on the street I was on, ran into the house and locked the door. They started hammering on the door so I opened the window and said that I had had a lovely evening and I really didn't want any trouble and to please leave me alone. They said I had to come down and shake hands. I refused so they kicked my mums front door down. It was a multi locking point double glazed PVC door and they were in such a rage that they actually kicked the frame out of the wall. My mums place is on the main street of the town so it was all seen on CCTV, the police arrived, they were arrested, it all went to court and they had to pay a fine which covered about half the value of the door. Their defence in court was that they thought I was taking the piss. I haven't offered a stranger a chip since. The worst part of the whole thing was phoning my wife at 2am to explain that I was going to be late home because I had to give a statement to the police because I had ran to mummy when threatened and got her front door kicked in.
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 12:52, 9 replies)
I'm at our SoftBall club's season launch and coaches/managers meeting as both a committee member and coach of my daughter's team.
A fellow committee member - I'll call him Reginald sidles up to me. I wouldn't say Reg is a mate per-se but we serve on a couple of committees together (PCYC and SoftBall), we've known each other since both our kids started school and we always have a long natter/argument at the PCYC Grounds Committee meetings (Fri. arvo shout at the pub after work).
He's one of those borderline aspy types who it seems frequently opens his mouth before his brain properly engages and applies a filter to what he's saying and how he's behaving in social situations.
Some of his past exploits include - jokingly calling the PCYC president a cunt during a funny situation at a meeting. When queried by the secretary if he really wanted to say that he affirmed it repeating that said bloke was a cunt and then laughing uproariously. Duly noted in the minutes...
At one of our Grounds Committee meetings I saw a former work-mate Ben, who happens to play prop for an A grade local club. After a bit of to-&-fro I tell Ben to "Get fucked you dumbshit" (a throwback to our days at work when we'd give each other shit at knockoff). Reg jumps in very aggressively and tells Ben "Yeah, FUCK OFF!!". I managed to intercede but not before Ben gave Reg a need to iron his lapels and probably check his undies.
So last night - I'm talking to Reg and he motions over to our (fairly well endowed) club secretary. "I'll never get tired of look at those tits." he says to me. In a voice easily loud enough for her to hear. And Reg's missus whom she happens to be speaking to at the time. And most of the rest of the hall.
I shake my head and Reg almost shouts "What? I'm a married man mate."
"Not for very much longer." I mumble as I wander off to get some more sushi and fresh lemon, lime and soda.
Length? I'd say she's a 33D and isn't afraid to open the buttons on her committee shirt enough to show off a bit of cleavage.
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 12:32, 13 replies)
This question is now closed.