Maybe she was having a bad day
A few months ago I was waiting for the tram and had rather a disturbing incident with a mental at the stop. It started with her asking if had let Jesus into my life. I replied I hadn't and had absolutely no plan to do so and could she perhaps leave me alone. This angered her. A lot.

Apparently I was a bitch, a slut and a fag; and I was going to burn in Hell. She practically screamed at me that everyone knew what I am and what I did. I was a dead man. I was stalking her. I was off to Centrelink to wait until it opens (the insinuation to you non-Aussie-living-types being that I'm on benefits. Given my legal status I can only contribute to the economy here). She angrily demanded to know where her money was. When I told her I really couldn't help she told me I thought I was royalty and better than her (due to the English accent).

Thankfully the tram arrived and I escaped. I smiled and waved as we pulled away. She gave me the finger.
(Rilux might be pregnant and has bum-aids, Sat 28 Sep 2013, 4:32, 4 replies)

HOOODOOOOORRR!!!!!

(how long does it take to delete an account anyway? Hail Frog! Hail Frog! Hail Frog! Hail Frog! Hail Frog! Hail Frog! Hail Frog! Hail Frog! Hail Frog! Hail Frog! Hail Frog! Hail Frog! Hail Frog! Hail F, Sat 28 Sep 2013, 1:46, 2 replies)

Just this afternoon.
One of my neighbors here in UAE is a Russian woman (born in Kazakhstan, but raised in Moscow) who is a classically trained pianist. As she was trained in the old USSR, the stories she tells of those days are kinda scary- but they explain a lot about her.

Not to mince words, she's a control freak.

Don't get me wrong, she's a sweetheart who has all but adopted my wife and me, but things have to follow certain rules or she gets pretty wound up. The other day she and my wife went out to the gym and then went shopping, and when she returned my wife described the back-seat driving in aggrieved tones. (In all fairness to the Russian, driving is scary over here and my wife is a bit careless.) So I decided to have some fun, and invited the Russian to come with me on today's offroad drive through the desert.

Now I've been driving for about a year on the desert, so I have some experience, and this was a trip for people of limited experience so it was pretty easy. I wasn't going to take someone new to this out on the desert for a wild ride doing dangerous stunts, after all. But it's not street driving- we're going over sand dunes. And that requires driving up to the ridge and going down a 45 degree slope, which means that it looks like the land ends and you're dropping into nothingness. You have to trust the caravan leader- after all, if they drove down it, it must be safe enough for you to go as well. But it is still something of a leap of faith.

The Russian started out by pointing out things I needed to avoid, then getting anxious over going up some rises and slewing around a bit in the loose sand. Then we had to climb some spots that were about a meter tall step followed by level ground, and she gasped as we surged over them. She clung tight as we climbed up a ten foot dune, then was silent and rigid until we reached the bottom. I learned several words of Arabic and some new ones in Russian as well. (She kept snarling "Shaytan!" which I thought meant "Shit!" at first.) But what to do? All I could do is keep going and have her hang on.

We did another climb and I could see her tense up, then we did the usual controlled slide down the other side. I swear she left fingerprints in the steel of the roll bar. When we reached the bottom she hissed "I kill you. I KEEEELLL YOU!"

This happened three times over the next hour.

When we finally stopped to re-inflate the tires at the camel farm the leader approached and asked her how she liked it. She gave a harrowing account of the drive, much to the amusement of the group.

But she wants to go with me on the next trip...
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Fri 27 Sep 2013, 21:46, 2 replies)

I started a joke, which started the whole world crying.

( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Fri 27 Sep 2013, 19:27, 2 replies)

I post stories
in QOTW, all of them 100% true, about my amazing adventures in Time and Space. Most seem to like them (they almost always end up on the 'popular' page) but a few seem to be provoked into 'pure fury' by them.

'tldr' is the most common complaint; I now know this means 'too long didn't read' (not 'Time Lord Doctor' as I once thought). This is interesting from a psychological point of view, as a thousand-odd words isn't really *that* long, and all that 'tldr' says about someone is that they have a PISSCUNTAIDSWANKBURGER short attention span, and are somehow proud of complete strangers knowing this.

I have also been accused of being dull, wacky, mental, excruciating etc., but I do not mind these at all, as they are merely people's opinions, and people are entitled to those (however misguided they may be).

Most amusing!

I've got a great story this week about Daleks, a race whose very ethos espouses fury at its purest, but, due to matters outside my control (and you may wish to imagine what these matters might be: a visit from a carer, a trip to the clinic, or a day out for the specials; whatever floats your boat) I may not be able to post it.

But then again, I may be.

Stay tuned, fans!

EDITED TO ADD: Cybermen. You heard it here first.
(Dr Skagra glorious glargzhem, Fri 27 Sep 2013, 18:55, 7 replies)

Most Londoners.
"My uncle used to drive for the Krays"
What sort of threat is that?
(oneinthepink is at your cervix m'lady, Fri 27 Sep 2013, 18:10, 2 replies)

Back when I was a teenager and I started going out to nightclubs I used to love dressing up in weird stuff
If you think "punk transvestite" you won't be far off. So there I was aged 16 or 17 with pigtails and heavy eyeliner and all the rest of it, waiting to get in, when one of the bouncers came over and pulled me out of the queue. Apparently my complete lack of dress sense had really upset him and he said in a low growl, "If it was up to me, I'd beat the shit out of you."

Of course I couldn't let that one go, so came back with "So who's it up to? Do you need to ask your mummy first?"
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Fri 27 Sep 2013, 17:29, 8 replies)

A good way to get a pummelling
Many years ago, I saw a bloke come into the pub I was in carrying a video camera. I happened to notice that it was recording, even though he was carrying it casually (eg not up to his eye), which I thought was a bit odd.

He went through into the other bar, which at that time was the preserve of a local biker gang. A minute or two later he came out again at a high speed, closely pursued by an angry biker girl in a leather miniskirt, and her even more angry boyfriend, both intent on spreading his nose across his face and inserting the camera where the light isn't really bright enough to film.

A few points occurred to me, observing this: if you're going to attempt to surreptitiously film up girls' skirts, you'd better a) not pick a biker bar to try it, b) put some tape over the flashing red light that tells people you're recording, and c) wait until you can get a video camera that is significantly smaller than the one he had - which was about the size of a small family car.
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Fri 27 Sep 2013, 17:24, 1 reply)

Close call
I had just turned 21 and started to work as an agency driver for a well known parcel delivery company, and just that very day been offered the chance to drive a 7.5 Tonne truck for the first time.

The shift started at 6am and all day I had been gingerly and carefully driving this monster truck, and at no time would I ever say that I was confident in such as massive vehicle.

Literally 100 yards from finishing the shift, and the relief of not crashing and killing anyone I was driving up to the traffic lights and noticed that I would be stopping on the box junction, so just slammed my anchors on.

For around 30 seconds, probably a minute, but felt like longer all I could hear was screeching tyres, beeps, and I am sure there was the odd scream... but I didn't hear any bangs.

I just shut my eyes and all of a sudden a big fist came through the window and grabbed me by the scruff of the neck.

What the fuck do you think you are doing? I've nearly had 8 ton of skip come through my cab... said the very nice man mountain.

All I could manage through fear was to point at the road and say 'box junction'... and couldnt move or say anything else...

The moment must have passed though as he just looked at the road looked back at my rabbit stare fear induced eyes and just let go and walked back to his skip lorry.

I stalled the lorry about 5 times that last 100 yards.....
(h3dg3h0g, Fri 27 Sep 2013, 17:17, 3 replies)

No violence but.....
When I was at Uni in late 1999 I casually remarked to a friend on my floor in the halls of residence that I thought Robbie Williams acted a bit camp. It didn't seem a very momentous observation at the time.

About an hour later, after I had gone to back to my room, I had a knock at my door. It was one of the girls on the corridor who had overheard my comment and she very solemnly said "I think you had better come with me. We're having a floor meeting and it's about your behaviour".

Confused, I followed her into our shared kitchen where I was barracked by half a dozen of her friends for being homophobic.

This lasted about ten minutes with some of the girls actually in tears until, unable to persuade them that I hadn't made a homophobic comment, one of my mates poked his head into the kitchen and said "Come on, we're heading down to the pub. Fuck these silly cunts!"

Cue months of evil glances and slammed doors.
( Hitler's Barber Soylent Green is high in saturated fat, Fri 27 Sep 2013, 16:50, 8 replies)

I had got my friend 20 fags for her birthday
And I presented them to her in the pub. Another of our friends, an Indian girl, said “it's my birthday too you know!”, so I rummaged in my pocket and presented her with a single cigarette.

“Why does Serena get 20 and I only get one?”

“Well,” I replied, “it's because I'm a racist”

We had a bit of a chuckle then this awful chav girl came over and started having a go at me: “You're a fucking racist are you, my boyfriend's black and he'll kick your fucking head in.”

She then went and got the boyfriend who was pretty hard-looking, but thankfully nowhere near as dense as his girlfriend. After a tense few minutes explaining that I had neither done nor said anything racist, he was satisfied that it was just a joke between friends and he went off happy.

His idiot girlfriend still had failed to understand the difference between actually being racist and saying you're racist for a joke, but luckily she wasn't the one with the big fists and muscles.
(Eukanuba, Fri 27 Sep 2013, 16:23, 20 replies)

I once captured a gorilla who despite being wild was able to talk.
"Wild? I was livid!"
(McChinaman banned, Fri 27 Sep 2013, 16:18, 2 replies)

Hasselhoff played him better than Jackson did.

( BraynDedd Natasha Kaplinsky's labia majora, Fri 27 Sep 2013, 16:01, Reply)

Ah'm nae bufty cunt!

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 27 Sep 2013, 15:54, 5 replies)

A mate told me I was getting fat
"that's because every time I fuck your Mum she gives me a doughnut" I quipped

Then he punched me in the face
(sittingduck Attention seeking, bullshitting fuck-knuckle, Fri 27 Sep 2013, 15:36, 5 replies)

head ...pencil shavings
etc etc
(Dan dan dan They tik urh jerbs!!!, Fri 27 Sep 2013, 15:29, Reply)

It happened in a pub
Which used to be a serious shit hole. Me and a mate were having a quiet drink while some sort of party was going on in the back room. It was a lively night and someone put Robert Palmers Addicted to Love on the Juke Box. Being the hilarious joker that i am after a few pints me and my mate started singing along except changing the words to Addicted to Muff. All fairly harmless except one of the scrunchied up girls from the party gave us a really funny look as she walked past us.

We carried on drinking blisfully unaware of the impending shit storm about to occur. The double doors to the party room flew open and five knuckle dragging neanderthals lumbered through them followed closely by the lady who was pointing at me and screaming hysterically.
I gathered by the way the knuckle dragging boyfriend backed by his mates had grabbed hold of me and tried to drag me outside that the lady in question had somehow thought that our drunken slurring was a sophisticated attempt to woo her. Given that the method of wooing she was usually accustomed too probably involved her boyfriend spitting on his hand before he fingered her this was probably only to be expected.

The girl was kicking up a serious fuss, The landlady was yelling at us to take it outside in case her crappy furniture got broken up in the process of me getting a pummlling, my mate (who was to be fair to him known as Flea as he was around 7 stone wet through) was no where to be seen and worse the double doors kept swinging open as more of the party goers arrived at the scene asking "where the trouble was" and intent on giving me the kicking i obviously so richly deserved.

To say i was bricking myself was an understatement but thankfully for me this tale doesn't end with myself being beaten like a Chipperfield Monkey.
One of the reinforcements from the party was a guy who I used to go to school with who recognised me and defused the situation grabbing hold of the girls boyfriend and telling him to stop being a twat, that i was ok and there was no need for trouble. The girls father also turned up at this point telling her to calm down and stop being so fucking stupid. He apologised to me saying that she was always the same when she had had a few and that she was a trouble causing bitch at the best of times.
Gradually the people dispersed and we got out of there pretty quickly my face if not my dignity intact.
(andythepieman Is surfing the waves of indifference on, Fri 27 Sep 2013, 15:25, 5 replies)

This one time, right,
I was totally having it off with this bird in the kitchen when my flatmate comes in and starts having a go at me, like, he says "Don't get me wrong: I'm not against heterosexuality or nothing, but that's my mum."

So I says to him "That'd be why she ate all my chips first then."

He got well lairy then so I boshed him on the head with a packet of frozen peas. That shut him up nicely. Only thing was, his old lady then started going on about how they was going to be for dinner tomorrow. You can't please some people.

Yeah, she loved it anyway though.
( .Yeti. El amor en los tiempos del cólera, Fri 27 Sep 2013, 15:20, Reply)

Wizards of the Coast are the company who publish Dungeons and Dragons.
They tried a few years ago to bring out a new version of the game to appeal to new players, but the fourth edition won few new fans, and even alienated some veterans. Many players moved to Pathfinder, a rival game inspired by 3rd Ed Dungeons and Dragons due to the poor 4E.
( Dr Preference AjcuiVd289, Fri 27 Sep 2013, 15:08, 5 replies)

Gay cunts.

( Amorous Badger NAKED BEA ARTHUR PHOTOS 4U, Fri 27 Sep 2013, 14:40, 11 replies)

Pretty much every girl I've ever gone out with
After a night on the white wine
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Fri 27 Sep 2013, 14:37, 18 replies)

So how many of you burst a blood vessel in your heads when you saw that Shambo won the question I set?

( BraynDedd Natasha Kaplinsky's labia majora, Fri 27 Sep 2013, 14:15, 19 replies)

It must have been the mid-1990s.
I'd just been awarded my third dan black belt, the sun was shining, and my two girlfriends at the time had just met, and let's just say they were getting on very well on the back seat ...

We were driving past my old school, and was about to engage in some nostalgia, when who did I see but a lad I was in the same class as me standing by the gates, chatting to some kids!

The lad I remember was one of the bullies at school - he was your typical bone-head - he was so envious when I'd got my 17 GCSEs and six A-levels when I was 15 that he'd quite literally tried to punch me. Being in the school boxing club I was able to dodge the blow easily and simply elbow him in the face, leaving him crying, but due to my tender years I left it at that, being too naive to realise how inevitably he would grow up.

Looking at him through my window, I realised that he wasn't just chatting to some of the kids. He was passing a bag of heroin to one of them, as they handed him some cash.

Having seen what drugs can do to kids, this did not sit well with me. I slammed on the anchors right there and then, and got out.

"Oi, mate!" I called over, "Just what are you doing?!"

"Fuck off Vagabond" he said, "Get yer own market!"

Having had three brothers die of hashish overdoses, I wasn't in the sort of mood for back-chat.

"I suggest you stop that right now, and go and crawl under whatever rock it was that you crawled out from." I hissed.

"Listen Vagabond you div - kids is a good market, this stuff's pure, and it keeps me in bling. Now why don't you just run off and take some photos for your dark graphic comic or whatever" he said - jovially.

He was completely remorseless, and clearly didn't comprehend what a future of dependency, prostitution, and early deaths he was handing to these innocent children.

The red mist descended, and I grabbed him by the throat.

"Get out!" I said, "Or I will break you!"

He spat in my face, and grabbed a nearby iron bar and smashed me round the head with it. Surprised by his audacity, I stepped back, and he came in for another swing with it. A roundhouse kick to the throat sorted out that little endeavour, and he flew against the wall, slumping to the bottom in a stunned heap, sobbing like a little boy.

Now I was pretty angry - he didn't even have the god-damned common courtesy to give me a fight.

I ran back to the car, and slammed it into reverse, then, putting into gear, slammed on the the powerade and smashed him into a bloody pulp.

Needless to say my heart's not really in this but the two girls on the back seat had a great time. Is it time to go to the pub yet?
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 27 Sep 2013, 14:05, 8 replies)

I went into MacDonald's and demanded (DEMANDED), that they stop putting broken bits of chocolate in my ice cream.
That's right, I wanted a Pure Flurry.
( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Fri 27 Sep 2013, 14:04, Reply)

YOU FUCKING PRICKS I'LL HAVE THE FUCKING LOT OF YOU

( BraynDedd Natasha Kaplinsky's labia majora, Fri 27 Sep 2013, 14:00, 8 replies)

Road Rage
I was crawling along in a queue of traffic, and finally discovered what the problem was: there was a digger with a car mashed into its bucket by the side of the road. As I rubber-necked at this sight, slack-jawed, I was brought rudely out of my reverie as I shunted into the car ahead.

The driver of this car leapt out. Shit, he was a big fucker: like the unholy offspring of Dawn French and Arnold Schwarzeneggar. He leant down - and down - to my window, which I opened reluctantly. His face was mere inches from mine, as he barked:

"Sorry mate, my fault, I was looking at the digger. I'll pay for any damage, naturally."

.
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Fri 27 Sep 2013, 13:56, 2 replies)

It's snow funny
Many years ago when I were but a young lad of the early teenage variety, my parents and a number of their friends hired a hostel somewhere in Wales for a fun winter weekend. We had been quite lucky with a decent covering of snow, so there were a few occasions on which we went out for snow-related activities such as building snowmen, throwing snowballs, etc. I have no idea what the adults did with the snow after sending their spawn to bed.

Another large house nearby had been rented out in a similar fashion, so there were two large groups of kids running around in the snow, and the snowball fights got even more energetic. To combat the high snow density of the surrounding environment I suited up in thick winter clothing and stepped into the storm. To my delight my jacket, trousers and boots were utterly impenetrable, and I became a tank in the midst of a swarm of mosquitoes.

That is, until one of the kids from the other house realised my weakness was a lack of mobility, so he grabbed a handful of snow, ran up to me and shoved it in my face. This did not sit well with me and the red mist descended. I grabbed the little turd, throwing him to the ground and punched him a couple of times before flouncing off. Of course, the ground was soft with snow and my weak punches only hit him on his well padded torso.

A few minutes later the turd came to our house with a gaggle of apoplectic parents who were demanding an apology. After discussing the situation with the adults of our group, I was brought out to say sorry, though afterwards I was told that everyone saw what happened and the turd deserved it. The rest of the holiday was pretty awesome, and I got some kudos from my peers for my Accord moment.
( clockworkrat has nice pants, Fri 27 Sep 2013, 13:31, 1 reply)

I was about 11 or so
And I had some of those shitty pop-bang things that look a bit like a drugs bomb.

I threw one at the rear quarter of a passing car, and the man got out and apoplecticly demanded to know where the fucking brick I'd just thrown at his car was. I stammered, very nearly shat myself and breathlessly explained that they were just harmless pop caps.

Much to my relief, he was delighted that I hadn't actually damaged his car, and calmed down immediately and drove off.
(Eukanuba, Fri 27 Sep 2013, 13:27, 2 replies)

Hipposlogan
I once wrote 'I AM A CUNT HORSE' in massive florescent letters on a horse

The farmer was livid
(sittingduck Attention seeking, bullshitting fuck-knuckle, Fri 27 Sep 2013, 13:19, 2 replies)

what just happened?
I'm 11 years old and walking down the street. It's a hot Saturday in summer and I'm taking a stroll into town to visit Lewis Measons which currently has a nice selection of Action Force figures that I want to spend my money on.

As I'm walking down the road on my own I'm in a haze of self indulgence, reliving an arguement I had with my brother the day earlier. You know the score, thinking of something really witty and scathing, the ultimate put down....only 36 hours too late. Anyways, I think of something witty and imagine him going red faced and bursting into tears, unable to withstand my superior intellect and comedy genius. So much so that I laughed out loud.

Suddenly I hear, and what I can only describe as, a fucking twat screaming "Oi! Are you laughing at me!"

I shake my head out of my daydream and see across the road is some teenage dickhead wearing baggy purple trousers, a waistcoat that looked like he had handmade it from his nans carpet, round blue sunglasses (like John Lennon only a really shit version) and a small round hat which looked like an upturned cloth ashtray.

To be fair I hadn't even noticed him until that point and, despite his absurd outfit, I was genuinely really scared. He was twice my size, had a mate with him, and I was alone and bewildered. "No" I stammered, "I just thought of a joke".

For some reason this only antagonised the jumble sale happy shopper who started to make threats to me from across the road. Only the passing traffic prevented him from racing across and punching my face in. Luckily, his mate was obviously embarressed by the whole scene and managed to get him in a bear hug saying "He's not worth it Jim. He's not worth it!" before forcibly shoving him down the road to whatever school fayre they were headed to.

It wasn't until the next day that I realised I should have shouted "Nice hat you bellend!" before running off.
(plant rolls out of bed like a fat wobbly tub of lard, Fri 27 Sep 2013, 13:08, 1 reply)