There wis this one time this wee junkie radge wis calling me a buftie!
Ah soon pit him straight, y'ken? Ah'm ne fuckin buftie cunt!
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 13:56, 14 replies)

The only 'words' I knew....
Years back I was in Sweden for a conference/convention, everything went great for the 3 days we were there, and due to getting on well with one of the guys helping organize things we got comp'd on a number of things including being invited to attend a dinner/entertainments evening by Compaq etc...

After the last night of the conference the venue returned to its normal weekend capacity, a sort of nightclub, with about 6 different areas. It opened at 12 midnight and closed at 5am. Now anyone i've ever met/known has always worked on the principle that unless specific hours/times are discussed, that when you're out partying/getting wasted the word "tomorrow" refers to when you'll wake up. So if I say "tomorrow" at 2am, i'm referring to my next waking day, rather than in 22+ hours time. Unfortunately this doesn't translate as well outside the country.

The night draws to an end, and we're trying to leave (my friend John and I) to get back to our hotel, when this Sweden girls arm shoots out, grabs me and insists on a dance. "OK" I thought, and she promptly thrust her leg between mine and pretty much sat on my thigh, ready to start dancing in an intimate manner... and then the music started "a wim a way a wim a way, in the jungle the mighty jungle the lion sleeps tonight". Yep no backbeat, nothing. Kiddies birthday party hug dance over John and I got our coats and exited the building.

As we walked along talking, with our newfound Swedish friend, it slowly dawned on us (after about 2 miles) that she was coming back to the hotel with us... nobody had asked or invited her, and we hadn't been particularly aware, so polite enquiries were made as to whether she lived this way etc... and it turned out that she didn't, but she was coming back to spend the night with me... (this isn't the only time this happened that year either, very weird) and i'd had no idea, not so much as kissed the girl, not so much as got her name, or had much of a conversation with her... oh well.

She wasn't the best looking, but I hadn't ticked Sweden off the imaginary map yet, so I figured "What the hell" and enjoyed her company in a variety of positions for a number of hours. However....

In the morning she kicked off horribly when she saw that packing was underway, complaining that "you told me you go tomorrow", having obviously assumed that I would now be spending the day with her, rather than catching the 11am bus and the 1.30 ryanair flight I was booked on. She went absolutely mental, cursing (I assume) and abusing me in Swedish, ranting and raving (and by now John was in the room and sat down witnessing the spectacle).... all I could think of doing, the only possible response I could come up with was:

"Irsky Dirksy Chirsky In De Birsky" (and more) in the voice of www.youtube.com/watch?v=auXrmn5uqOk

Not sure how funny it was to her (not very), but we laughed all the way home, and any time it's mentioned.

(note: Chirsky In De Dirsky = Chicken In The Basket)
(Universon, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 13:52, 2 replies)

I just can't help myself.
Part of my job entails going to trade shows and the like to see new motorcycling garb and wonderment. Quite often, this will involve the draping of some young tart over said motorcycle. This is usually not a bad thing. However, sometimes the young lady in question can be a tad acerbic, what with fancying themselves a bit much.
I get on with most of them, finding that striking up a normal conversation removed from the realms of 'Phoooer' and the like usually gets you a real person to talk to. Sometimes though, they can be a little up their own arse for my liking.

Looking at a nice Suzuki (no sniggering at the back there,) which had one of the obnoxious brolly girls reclined on the top, I piped up, in front of all the gawpers,
"Mind if I take a picture?"
"Of course not!" was the reply, accompanied by a pout that would make Lesley Ash blush. As she re-arranged her legs a la Sharon Stone, I said;

"No no, a picture of the bike please." while indicating she should fuck right off it.
She was a bit put out.

Sometimes, the girls can be nice people too, for example, in Milan the other week, two Playboy bunnies were taking a lunch break, only to be accosted by every greasy man- one hand in pocket- wanting to have their picture taken hugging them both. Bless 'em, they were very patient about it, just glancing at each other with that sly knowing grin. I couldn't resist giving them a bit of a break and asked if they would mind, while holding my camera up.
*resigned smile* "No, go ahead!"
So I passed them my camera, and had a photo of my colleague and myself taken by them, grinning like loons at the joke.
( Blind Meach Cautiously optimistic, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 13:48, 5 replies)

A couple from the dropzone..
In my free time and when I can afford it I like to go skydiving. One of the best things about being at the DZ is the sheer volume, creativity and obscenity of the banter that takes place.

Due to inebriation I fail to remember many of the better ones, but here are a couple of examples that have stuck in my head:

"I'm in your mum's wank-bank"

To a female friend: "How does it feel to know that your dad's cooler than you and your mum's hotter than you?"
(anvil, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 13:35, Reply)

This woman once took offense to what I'd said, and told me
"If I was your wife, I'd flavour your drink with poison!"

Quick as a flash, I replied, "And if you were my wife, I'd drink it!"

Everyone laughed at how funny I was and how stupid and ugly she was, and how everyone thought she was a bitch anyway.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 12:50, 5 replies)

Misplaced intercourse
Years ago when I was but a fresher at university and had alongside others established a group of friends who'd always go to the pub/club together (or generally just hang out a fair bit) it came about that my 19th birthday was coming up, and so a good friend of mine from back home "Keith" arranged to come up for it, to hang out with us, go to a club, and annoyingly demonstrate how much more nice stuff a 'working man' could buy casually on a weekend.
So we were all drinking, and much like most friends do when introduced to your new friends, they attempt to bond by taking the piss out of you mercilessly. Old stories are dredged up, indiscretions and idiotic behaviour dug out the closet. Your 'new you' shattered in front of your new friends who never knew the old you - all with the best possible intention of having a good time, getting on with everyone and being remembered.
So, a few hours into things, drinks flowing "keith" decides to tell the Epic tale of how i'd slept with a girl called Wendy, a girl of reportedly looser knicker elastic than was deemed appropriate (probably unfairly to be honest) and whom he'd decided was ugly beyond comparison (my memory is that she was alright if i'm honest), and she spent the greatest amount of time telling my new friends who "he f-cked wendy, wendy's f-cking minging, what a beast, she's horrible".... I let this carry on for a good while before pointing out "No I didn't Keith, that was you, you did"...

He shut up for quite some time after that, but recovered well enough for a good night out.
(Universon, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 12:44, 7 replies)

el_diablo_blanco can't finish stories
^WINNAR
(Darth Foxtrot A one-man army dedicated to making fetch happen, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 12:29, Reply)

At some comedy night and the comedienne was receiving endless shit from one fat obnoxious slapper. When she had enough she pointed at tubbyguts and said "Ladies and gentlemen: never shake a baby"
( enoughblueskyforsailorstrousers, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 12:26, Reply)

I don't think we're ever going to get a satisfactory dénouement to that story.

( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 12:22, 1 reply)

One day lad, all this will be yours,
~~~~Wavy Lines~~~~
Back in the day, when I was just a young undergraduate, I happened to make the acquaintence of a nice young girl called Diana. Now, Diana was a more than a little posh. This post could be a reply of petty jibes at the rich, or her remarks at the poor.

But instead I shall tell a much more magnificent story indeed. We’d been dating for a couple of months and it was finally time to meet the dreaded parental units. I’d been warned by Diana to be on my best behaviour, as her parents apparently had a somewhat medieval attitude to her ‘suitors’.

I was expecting a nice family home, but was instead presented with a gargantuan, sprawling estate in the countryside outside Brighton.
As I stepped out the car I was almost instantly greeted by a man leaping out a bush and come barrelling towards us. This man it emerged, was Di’s father. Strangely he at least a passing resemblance to Michael Palin, but with the facial hair of Brian Blessed.
With barely a word of introduction between us I was soon carted off to be shown the estate. As we gazed out on to the landscape, her father put his hand on my shoulder and said:

“Son, if you play your cards right, then one day all this will be yours”

Then it struck me:

Yes, this is Dee's vast estate in Pilt Down
(Soulman87, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 12:10, 4 replies)

graffiti
graffiti 01: "I fucked your girlfriend and she said I was better then you."

graffiti 02 (in reply): "Yes, she said that. And your mother agreed."
(perkusfux, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 11:13, Reply)

Nothing can be more devastating than when you put this down on the dancefloor.

(oneinthepink is at your cervix m'lady, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 11:07, 3 replies)

After a works party I found myself waking up, urinating on the legs of a colleague who was sleeping in the room next door...
Not something to be proud about but I was very very drunk and in an unfamiliar house and had sleepwalked.

The following Monday my colleague was, as expected, planning to humiliate me as much as possible about the whole experience.

At his first opportunity he announced to the office about how shocked he was to wake up to me pissing over him.

My only form of defense was offence so I replied,"Not as fucking shocked as I was when I woke up and found him wanking as I did it."

Didn't stop them taking the piss out of me but it shut him up for a while.
( Airman Gabber Living life like a 70's BBC presenter, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 10:16, 1 reply)

I'm waiting on the conclusion to the story
The one guys gets punched AND insulted, and just lets it stand? I think not. An almighty verbal smackdown must have followed, and this is the punchline for which I wait with baited breath.
(Darth Foxtrot A one-man army dedicated to making fetch happen, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 10:15, 3 replies)

I once overheard two black teenage girls on the bus 'cussing' a wannabe-black Asian girl, calling her a 'Bollywog'.
I thought that was inspired, personally.
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 10:14, 3 replies)

Like any of you guys have good bloody noses.

(Misery McUglywife an attention seeking sociopathic fuckstain., Tue 29 Nov 2011, 10:09, 5 replies)

Not between here and Great Aunt Nelly's house.

( scarpe We Stole Bikes, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 10:02, Reply)

Slim to fuck all
On the upside, if we carry on like this sooner or later one of us is going to deliver some kind of "devastating put-down" which works both in and out of context.
(Darth Foxtrot A one-man army dedicated to making fetch happen, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 9:23, Reply)

What are the chances of that though?

( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 9:19, Reply)

Only if it's funnier than the first two

(Darth Foxtrot A one-man army dedicated to making fetch happen, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 8:43, Reply)

One more for good luck?

( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 8:39, Reply)

Two of my mates got into a fight on the way home from school when we were about fifteen

"A" lands a punch on "B's" face, and a nosebleed occurs.

"You're bleedin'", A says.

B, checks his face for blood just before A slams him with,

"Bleedin' ugly mwhahaha"
(El_diablo_blanco, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 8:37, 2 replies)

Old Yeller

(Darth Foxtrot A one-man army dedicated to making fetch happen, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 8:22, 7 replies)

At work this very day. Names changed to protect.., well the twit.
Marty, White-King (it's a type of bleach and in this case a nickname) and I are standing watching the painter fill the cracks, rawl-plug holes etc. in the nurses station wall in prep. for painting. The ladies are giving me shit as this really is my job. White-King comments that "the painter is being really careful with the filler Ringo, not like you and your slap-dash attitude. It's like he's being really anal about it. The filling I mean."
"He's being an anal filler."
In between Marty & I pretty much losing control of our bladders I ask White-King, "Do you ever listen to the words that come out of your mouth?"

For the /talkers, knockers & such-like - I work in an aged-care facility for people with dementia. I do 12 hrs. per week at this site, 8 handyman and 4 gardening. Today I spent more than 3hrs. fixing retic. and a couple of hours plumbing, constructing a raised garden bed & the rest doing paperwork. The painter took more than half of the day to do the area I've talked about. You do the maths.
- When I fill a hole in plaster/brick I usually slightly overfill as most putties will shrink (even when they say they don't). I would rather sand back some putty than have to refill a hole especially when I may need to drill the putty. White-King having not done much drilling and filling probably mistakes me overfilling holes for being slap-dash.
(Misery McUglywife an attention seeking sociopathic fuckstain., Tue 29 Nov 2011, 7:38, 8 replies)

Wii Fat
Wii Fit comes with what is referred to as a Balance Board. One of its features is to weigh the player so they know if they're losing weight doing the in-game exercises. The board, like traditional scales, has a weight limit: about 150 kilograms, or 330 pounds.

A particularly unfriendly fellow, as repugnant as he was round - he was like a mouldy pumpkin - makes an expletive-laden entrance, silencing the store I work in.

Having a British accent in America makes me The Problem Resolver, and I am pushed in front of him. The customers in the store turn to listen, some more obviously than others.

I start with monosyllabic words, "What's wrong, and how can I help?"
"The fucking board won't pick up my weight! You sell crappy products! I want to know what you going to do for me so I can play this game!"
"Well, we could get you another balance board."

His swearing and unpleasant attitude has gotten him what he wants. He sneers at me, and replies, "That's a start - but I'm not leaving until you guarantee the second board will work."
"Oh, they both work fine. No, your problem is you're too fat for the game."

He is frozen rigid by this and the crowd stifles their collective laughter, some more obviously than others. I continue.

"But! You can buy a second board, put it next to the first, stand on both of them, and distribute your weight between them. Then you'll be able to play the game just fine!"

The laughter from the crowd helped usher him out.
(rzeki, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 6:49, 7 replies)

Another putdown from Ben Franklin
Old Ben had his paunch patted by an impudent lad. "When are they going to induce labour?" the lad quipped.
"And when are they going to induce puberty? Ya cocksucker," was the riposte from wily Ben.
(the other guy not the one that gave you coochie warts, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 4:33, Reply)

My Delightful Neighbour.
Mrs. Cat's Bum Mouth next door was a bit miffed when her convertable car ended up with some dust on it, courtesy of our painters sanding our old timber house in preparation for painting.

Not wishing to cause a neighbourly feud, I washed her car for her and apologised for the vagaries of nature's wind patterns.

As I was swishing away with the sponge, she started a long passive-agressive rant about the amount of noise our house makes, and how it lowers the tone of the whole neighbourhood. I quietly listened to the monologue, wondering where the fuck this was leading to.

Funnily enough, my other neighbour has never mentioned this noise issue at all, but then again she is a nice older single lady who plays good music, has lots of friends over and generally enjoys her life.

Mrs. CBM finally concluded that the source of the noise is my young ultra autistic son (no speech, but makes loud gutteral noises, not toilet trained, loves slamming doors and drumming his feet against walls and yes, he really does licks windows. God really should have taken more than 7 days to design our feeble immune systems).

She finished up with a rather patronising forced smile and said "really Ken,...you and your family should seriously consider moving away from this area".

As I was hosing the suds off her pretentious, shitty, wannabe "glamorous", fucking sad, middle-aged, mutton dressed up as mutton second-hand Peugeot convertible 206 , I brightly said "Well Mrs. CBM, it's your lucky day, as good fortune would have it, Oath junior is booked in for surgery tomorrow to have both legs amputated, his voice box removed, and desexed, so he should be no trouble to you at all, after all that!".

I beamed at her shocked expression, head cocked to one side and added "I can't fucking wait, you think it's loud in your house, fucking try living in ours. It will be bliss from now on".

Stupid cow. I may sue. Or perhaps just piss in her pool.

Apols for length.
( Ken Oath, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 3:39, 19 replies)

"You see your one true love
every time you look in the mirror!", opined my then-girlfriend.

"At least my one true love will never leave me", I retorted.

She followed this up by dumping me for someone else. Touche.
( cs1ca, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 2:01, Reply)

Too harsh?
I once suggested that my friend was "the Scrappy to my Scooby". Amazingly he still speaks to me.
( paulieg La, la, la, not listening, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 1:15, Reply)