Back in primary school
Before the football match at lunchbreak, Owen said to Stephen

"you can't play because you've got a vagina".

It was excellent.
(TheManWithThePlan cussed your mum on, Wed 30 Nov 2011, 10:13, 2 replies)

Out of the mouths...
One day at the park, during the period when my daughter was first learning to talk, she was at the top of a castle in the playpark, happily making random noises in a fairly loud voice. Bah! Ti! Boo! and so on. Just as a couple of guys jogged past in the full fluorescent lycra bodysuits, with all the expensive accessories and designer shades, she looked at them and shouted out "Gay!"

I was so proud.
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Wed 30 Nov 2011, 9:43, 13 replies)

Pea roast (again, so apologies)
Every year round these parts there is a local football tournament with the same two teams habitually meeting in the final. The year in question saw the final being held at their ground. Along with a small but passionate group of supporters and my six year old we make the short trip o'er the water to the game. Our seats in the stadium were right alongside the most rabid home supporters. As passions rose so did terrace chants and, well, abuse.

As I pray that my lad doesn't pick up and repeat any of the amusingly colourful ditties, especially to Mrs Number 5, he starts to join in with some of my fellow supporters' witty slur "you fat bastard" aimed at the largest and most mentally unstable skinhead in the opposition end. When they take their turn to chant some barely coherent invective towards us he clearly feels aggrieved: his crystal clear scream of "YOU FAT PASTA" manages to stun an entire end of some three to four hundred fans into silence. I didn't have the heart to either correct him or rebuke him for his hooligan tendencies.
( number5 has been fighting tramps and losing., Wed 30 Nov 2011, 8:19, 3 replies)

Inside job in your pants
A misogynistic astrology, New Age and conspiracy theory nut was accusing me of being a weak-willed drone for not believing in God, ghosts, 9/11 inside-jobby-jobs etc. I told him:
"Keep pulling things out of your arse. You might actually retrieve your head one day."
(Spod, Wed 30 Nov 2011, 7:12, 7 replies)

Not really clever or witty.
I used to go to the pub quiz at my friend's local every Monday evening, and a fair-sized group of us made up our team. We used to do pretty well, but rarely won, and if we didn't know the answer to a question, our reply was always "Thora Hird".

But all that's by-the-by. My aforementioned friend had another friend who she knew from college, who she'd only struck up an acquaintance with because they used to catch the same bus. He was known as Fat Gay Chris (for obvious reasons), and every week he'd turn up to the pub, start randomly insulting us until one of us snapped and said something rude back to him. Every week, before he arrived, we'd swear between ourselves that we wouldn't rise to his bait and wouldn't be rude to him, because it wasn't fair. And then every week he'd walk in and say something horrible.

One week, he decided to pick on our lovely friend Lisa (who has since sadly passed on), and he started calling her ugly. Lisa, despite being very pretty, was always very self-conscious about her looks, and this rather upset her. We tried a few times just saying "leave it out, Chris, that's not nice" etc, but to no effect. Until one of us snapped and said "Just shut up, you fat bastard".

"I may be fat", said Chris. "But I can do something about it. She's ugly, and she can't do anything about it".

"But, Chris", I replied. "You're fat AND ugly".

That shut him up.
(Iris_Wildthyme is three sheets to the wind, Wed 30 Nov 2011, 7:11, 1 reply)

I was more hoping for witty reposte ...
but the poor chap didn't take it so well.

I was buying a new game and I got the release date wrong. Nice young acne-riddled chap at the counter persuaded me to order it in after some old chat. It was a quiet shift and being a stay at home mother, I was enjoying a rare conversation that wasn't about my daughter's most recent bowel movement or where she had last seen Blankie.

As he was taking down my mobile number, it dawned on me that he was trying to pick me up. With a two year old snapping about my ankles and wedding ring clearly on display. Bless his spotty wee heart for trying.

"Surname?" he asked.
"Que." I replied.
"First name?" he laid on the innuendo with unintentional hilarity.
"Missus."
(Que?, Wed 30 Nov 2011, 4:43, 6 replies)

Sometime in 93-94, something like that, a mate and i were sat drinking at a table in our small Cornish town shitty nightclub when a group of baby sailors and their girlfriends from the local training base start taking the piss out of our long (and of course awesome :)) surf dude hair. Making actions like that bird in the timotei advert etc, being cocks like baby matelots often are and showing off to the couple of girls who are lapping it up.

We ignore it until one of them reaches over, taps my mate D on the shoulder, and says scousley "Mate, Mate, no offence mate but with your hair like that you look just like a woman"

D Leans over and checks out closest of the girls sat with the group,

"Thats a shitload more than can be said for your missus. Mate"

Cue two girls storming off in a blizzard of chavette swearing and this guy trailing after them like a puppy, trying to placate them. In vain by the looks of it. heheh.

i turn back round thinking we were destined for a scrap with this guys mates only to find them all just fucking howling with laughter. They turned out to be alright and we all got drunk.
(Matty73, Wed 30 Nov 2011, 3:49, 1 reply)

devastatingly unintentional..
Just this very evening, My 7 yr old daughter finishes brushing Mrs.bitsicks hair and declares...

Mum you look absolutely gormless!


I think she meant gorgeous.
( DanGleeballs Moist people don't notice spelling errors..., Wed 30 Nov 2011, 2:38, Reply)

On Hallowe'en this year
My friend C got very drunk and shagged a girl of leviathanic proportions who also tore his back to ribbons. Of course, we have been mocking him about the incident ever since - nicknaming him "Captain Ahab" and making constant jokes about whaling. Sitting in the uni open mic night tonight we were continuing in the same vein, discussing how long (five minutes) it had taken to go from "repartee to rippling motions" when he snapped and half-shouted "WILL YOU LOT STOP GOING ON ABOUT WHALES!"

Just then - literally at that very moment - the next singer stepped up to the microphone and announced "And this is a song I wrote about a whale that's being harpooned". We died. Absolutely died laughing*.

Lines included "They'll eat my eyes, and even my thighs (though I don't have any, because I'm a whale)".

C just sat there, head in hands. Put down by someone he's never even met.



*I got better
( MatJ LOOK, Wed 30 Nov 2011, 2:02, 2 replies)

My mate Chris had just completed his passing out Parade in the army...
I love him to bits, I really do, & I was immensely proud of him to boot. He'd gone through alot of shit to get to where he was, & mid way through basic training, his mum had suffered a stroke. Undeterred, he battled on.
We'd gone all the way down to Cambridge to see his proud moment, & the 1st thing I said to him when he walked in to the room with all his beaming family & friends waiting for him?

"Your mum hates you so much, she had a stroke just so she didn't have to come to this pile of shit"!

We did laugh...
(Dr Fishfinger Want's to see a fat man give a tit wank, Wed 30 Nov 2011, 1:38, Reply)

I dont dislike dogs...
But it pisses me off no end, when owners or (as they usually refer to themselves) lovers, humanise their beloved 'babies'
Walking through a local park, one of those type dogs ran up to my daughter, and jumped up, putting its muddy paws all over her new top. The owner, who had no control over the beast, tried in vain to get the dog to return to her, but the dog was having non of it.
When she eventually approached, there was not a single word of apology, but the usual guff of "He loves you, he's trying to hug you and give you a kiss"
I said, you mean he's trying to lick her face.
"Oh no, he's kissing"
"Madam," I said, "If your dog kissed you like a human, would you let it?"
She glared at me, my daughter laughed so hard she almost threw up.
(lordy lordy, Wed 30 Nov 2011, 0:08, 1 reply)

Scherzo con brio
The relationship between conductor and orchestral musician is chilly at best.

Scene - rehearsal for a 'new' piece; lots of near-unplayable writing by the composer - awkward twiddly bits in strange time signatures, in all registers. Musicians' patiences are straining.

The conductor is not quite happy with the clarinet interpretation of a rather prominent and difficult phrase.

"Yes, ah, 1st clarinet, would you mind putting a tad more emphasis on the high note 3 before 23?"

"I already am..."

"Yes, but more like tum te tum dadadada da da da da diddlediddlediddlediddlediddle...ta TEEEEEEE... pom pom pom, ba bum."

"So you want 'tum te tum dadadada da da da da diddlediddlediddlediddlediddle...ta teeeeeee... pom pom pom, ba bum."

"Well, more like 'tum te tum dadadada da da da da diddlediddlediddlediddlediddle...ta TEEEEEEE... pom pom pom, ba bum.'"

"Ok, 'tum te tum dadadada da da da da diddlediddlediddlediddlediddle...ta teeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee... pom pom pom, ba bum.'"

"Almost. More 'tum te tum dadadada da da da da diddlediddlediddlediddlediddle...ta TEEEEEEEEE... pom pom pom, ba bum.'"

"Fine, maestro. We can now both sing it pretty well, but who's going to play it?"

"...... "
(roysin, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 23:00, 7 replies)

In a Pub
I was sharing a long pew with two young lads. One was teasing the other in a way that only the underage can, "you’re such a light weight! Bet you’ve never even been to a pub before!" "ha you’ve only had three pints and you’re pissed, I can drink eight" that sort of thing.

For about five minutes the teasee said nothing. Then he slowly put his pint down, looked his mate in the eye, looked back down, and vomited over them both.

I very nearly died.
(Asser, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 21:17, Reply)

Today I went to buy apple pie from Tesco.
On the way back I noticed a chap leaning, proprietorially, against a red and black Suzuki 600 Bandit motorcycle. He looked the part, pristine red and black leather all in one suit, with the gleaming knee and elbow sliders and matching helmet. The only other bike in the car park was a cheap Chinese 125 in similar colours. As I got closer I saw that this fella, who looked in his late 30s, was chatting to two teenage girls. I heard him comment about the bike that

“It goes like sh*t off a shovel, and the bike is whisper-quiet - it’s like a ninja, almost undetectable to the human ear. She’s a real beaut.”

At this point I felt that I had to interject. While I like the idea of the younger generation getting into bikes, they shouldn’t be mislead.

“Yeah, but the back tyre needs constant care and it tends to rattle at anything over 90.”

He notices me and gives me the once over. Instead of the shiny one-suit, I’m wearing a leather jacket so old it can get insurance from SAGA, cheap jeans and trainers.

“Well mate,” he sneers, “I think I know a bit more about this bike than you.” He glares at me, I glare at him. The girls titter at this show of masculinity.

I go for the dignified exit.

“Sure, I can’t compete with your many years of experience,” I say as I put my keys in the Bandit, hearing the roar of my baby’s exhaust as she bursts into life, before burbling contentedly away, “but I think ninjas are supposed to be a bit quieter than this, don’t you?”

He turns around, shocked. He goes to lean back on the bike while he explains to the now-guffawing girls, but I’m already riding off, laughing as I see him sprawled on the floor in my mirror.
(jamesthegill opens new tabs with his scroll wheel, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 21:12, 13 replies)

My Dad came out with a belter years ago
Some really rough people moved into the house next to us when I was a kid, the two brothers and one sister were always harassing us and jumping over our wall to generally act like wee dicks. One day, the oldest brother and by far the smelliest and most erroneous of the lot was being a particular pain; waving sticks about and chucking stones.

My Dad came out the house and lost it, giving him a first class bollocking and chasing him back over the wall.

He, of course went crying to his mum, complaining that my Dad was shouting at him. His Mum then came out to confront my Dad, "You're always shouting at my boy; he's got Eczema now because of you shouting at him all the time"

My Dad, quick as a flash replies "Is that why you don't wash him then?"

Hilarious I thought.
(dontmesswithmytoottoot, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 21:11, Reply)

Blessed are the cheesemakers
A few years back at Oxford.

Devout Christian English student: "There has never been a film made which was better than the book upon which it was based."

Physics student: "The Life of Brian was quite good."
(oily85, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 21:08, 12 replies)

Fucksakes! Where the FUCK did you get that haircut from?
Those were the very words bawled across the print room floor by Ian Jackson* - a particularly mouthy yob of a printer.
Andrew Allison*, the wearer of said haircut - which, to be fair, looked like the aftermath of an imploded albino guinea pig - and a genuinely warm, funny older gentleman to boot, came over, sat down, took out his pipe (this was the eighties) and said:

"Well Ian, it's actually quite a strange story.
I was in Paisley and thought I'd take a few moments to get my hair cut (scrapes out the bowl of his pipe with a penknife).
I was standing near Central Road and wandered along to Gilmour Street Station where there was a polis standing about looking bored (takes out his baccy and proceeds to shred it into the bowl of his pipe).
So I asked him where the worst barbers in Paisley could be located (starts tamping down the baccy as the rest of the printers and assistants wander over to listen in).
At first he looked at me as if to ascertain whether I was extracting the urine or if I was under the influence and then advised me to go under the bridge and along toward New Sneddon Street, past Maxwell Street (starts to light his pipe), onto Carlisle Street and thence to Love Street, (puff, puff) along Love Street (past the park), left onto Albion Street and then left again onto Blythswood Drive. Ah, gottit (The pipe is lit)!
Anyway, says the polis, if you keep going down there you will find a wee close on the left hand side and that is where Auld Blind Freddy has his shop."

By now there must be at least 15 blokes listening in and there are 3 four colour Heidelbergs clattering away with no one minding them.
Andrew takes another puff at his pipe and continues:

"So. I found the place and opened the door, just as a chap came out quite rapidly, looking rather flustered and holding what appeared to be an ear in one hand. The other hand was clasped to the side of his head and there was blood trickling between his fingers. He looked at me. I looked at him. I looked at his hair. Shocking. Just shocking. (puff, puff). The chap gives a sort of groan and staggers off in the direction of the Royal Alexandra Hospital. I walked in and sat down to wait.
The shop was hellish gloomy and dirty. There were great tufts of hair all over the floor and some suspicious looking stains on the walls and mirrors (puff, puff).
There was a small hunchbacked figure in the corner it coughed and spat and wandered into the light.
I presumed that this was Blind Freddy (puff, puff).
He was wearing spectacles with lens like the bottoms of jam jars, a blood stained jacket and had some form of palsy, as his hands were shaking.
He invited me over to the barbers chair and I sat down. He coughed all over the back of my head, dropped his scissors twice and then said to me: "What can I do for you today sir?"
I said (puff, puff) "Give me the same haircut you gave Ian Jackson..."

Well. The entire place was in fucking uproar and I thought I was going to shit myself laughing.
Andrew just wandered off still puffing on his pipe and Ian looked as if he had been filleted.

That was the best comeback I have ever heard.

*Real names. Andrew is dead now and Ian was a cunt - so it serves him right.
(claude balls Realises that it was a bad idea to switch to Bold., Tue 29 Nov 2011, 20:00, 6 replies)

Harsh
At school, a mate casualy came out with "No offence mong, but you're the ugliest guy in our year."

And that's why I cry at night.
(Mong goose, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 18:27, 2 replies)

This bloke said I had a small dick.
I said "That's as maybe, but it's been inside Raquel Welch."
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 18:12, 3 replies)

Not mine, but my dad's
Back in the early 80's my dad fell out with his business partner and much bad stuff happened. He's quite proud of the time he and his partner were having a heated discussion in which he called my dad a bastard. Technically, this was true for the first 4 years of his life, then my grandparents got married (back in 1948 when these kind of things were frowned upon). My dad's reply?

"I may be by accident of birth- but you, Gordon, are a self made man".

The guy was such an arse- rubbed lots of people up the wrong way, screwed over several former employees, and left his wife and daughter to live with someone in America. I wouldn't be surprised if someone had shot him by now.
(dna_girl, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 18:04, 3 replies)

another one time...
i'd been out for a few cheap beers at local hostelry of repute. or pub, as we even called it back then. additionally this idea was made more attractive by the blizzard outside, and the rapidly piling up snow drifts.

some time later when we emerged into the real world, and entered a local fried steroided budgie delicatessen (with chips of course) how we laughed when a local type entered the establishment and promptly slid on his arse on the ceramic tiles made wet by the inclement weather.

fortunately*, being the smallest of our little group, I clearly made the easiest target when he sought revenge by means of pugilism. I suspect he laughed at a later point.

*fortunately in the sense that I would not have had this witty tale of retort to display otherwise.

I was there, it must have happened.
(NoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNo, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 18:03, 2 replies)

It's a Gift (1934)
Harry Payne Bosterly (Guy Usher): You're drunk!
Harold Bissonette (W. C. Fields): And you're crazy. But I'll be sober tomorrow and you'll be crazy for the rest of your life.
(uncle_bud is not the jelly roll king., Tue 29 Nov 2011, 17:57, 3 replies)

Can't remember where I heard it,
But a woman said to Churchill "Winston, you're drunk"
To which he replied, "Madam I may be drunk, but I'm the Prime Minister and I'm going to have you killed you fat cunt"

Something like that anyway
( sandettie light vessel automatic New Twitter - @bollocksreally, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 17:32, 4 replies)

Teaching put down
I used to be a teacher at secondary school. I don't claim to be a great wit or anything, but I did have a couple of flashes of inspiration. Here is one of them:

10C was a low ability (but nice enough) maths class. It was valentines day, last lesson and they were goofing around, telling valentines rhymes. At first they were amusing, ("Roses are red, violets are blue, I'm amazing and you're OK too") but as they began to turn a bit smutty ("Your knickers are blue, your knickers are brown, but when I'm with you your knickers are down") I really had no choice but to nip it in the bud. So I told Karl and Martin (not real names as I honestly can't remember them) to stop. They went quiet for a bit but soon continued. So, turning from the blackboard (yes, thats how long ago it was) I looked at the pair of them and said (pointing) "Roses are red, Violets are blue, You're in detention, and so are you!"
Quite proud of that one, I was.
(SquidFish, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 17:01, 14 replies)

Put down by my devastating wit
I was helping my nephew with some internet research. It was biology, and he was looking at a picture of the strange polygonal shapes made by bacterial colonies in shallow water - a landscape of rings and geometric patterns.

He was intrigued about how such basic creatures made such complex patterns, just through very simple behaviours.

"Yes," I said, "It's probably one rule to ring them all..."

I know, I know, not really a put down. Sorry.
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 14:23, Reply)

Holiday Drink
In a bar in Holland got chatting to a few locals,just general crap when a girl a few years younger than us turned to mate and said" I do not fancy you" with that my other mate chirped in with"have a few more drinks,you might change your mind"
(badoosh, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 14:19, 5 replies)

Waynetta my neighbour
Waynetta my neighbour accosted me one morning complaining about my kids throwing cigarette dimps into her garden(fair complaint)
I told her i will get the kids to pick them up when they get home from primary school(only joking,there 20 & 18).spaceI thought I was being reasonable as couldn't do anything else till they came home from work,
Until she came out with" I don't even smoke"Before she'd even finished the smoke,quick as you can i replied"I've not got a cat but my gardens full of shit"That ended that conversation,now she throws the dimps back which is fair play to her,and i do likewise with the cat shit space...
(badoosh, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 14:05, 4 replies)

Pick up line
Not mine but one of my mates when we were youngers lads, he would siddle up to a young fillie in on or another southampton dive and ask in his best brummy brogue "do you fancy me love ?"
when she invariable said no he would reply "thats strange the ugly ones usually do."
(Syndex, Tue 29 Nov 2011, 14:04, 2 replies)