My nans dog
Miss you kim
(Dan dan dan They tik urh jerbs!!!, Fri 25 Nov 2011, 12:42, Reply)

Since there are a few seminar stories on here...
A guy in my UG class did a 10 minute presentation on an aesthetic theory (Barthes, if you're interested.) He decided to use, as an example, a painting of a cow compared to the 'real' cow. Being an UG, he was struggling slightly to define why the 'real' cow was better aesthetically, and ended up with a presentation which was basically talking about how beautiful cows are.

Questions? Only one, from the professor: "I assume you know this cow personally. Can I have her number?"
(Sivvus trolley collision in the fruit aisle led to a jam, Fri 25 Nov 2011, 12:28, Reply)

In my early 20s
Because of a combination of the medication I was on (which gave you a tremendous appetite whilst causing your metabolism to grind to a halt) and not cycling about 25 miles a day, I began to put on weight. I went from slightly over 9st to nearly 16st in little under 3 years.

Mrs SLVA's mate's dad, George had a habit of picking me up on it. "Why aye Sandettie" for he was from Tyneside, "ye putting on a bit of weight". He would say every time I saw him (maybe every few months).
I used to ignore him anyway because he was a right know-it-all (and reminded me of Rigsby from Rising Damp for some reason), pontificating on everything and anything, all the while gesturing at you with his pipe. This along with the fact that his rambling anecdotes were just plain shit.

One day he's present in my company, and he clocks me and starts with his usual Oscar Wilde class quips,
"You're getting a bit big Sandettie, have ye not lost any weight since we last met?"

"Fuck off you bald cunt" before I could stop myself. I then saw the look on his face and on his dozy simpleton of a wife's face. I was about to apologise when I saw Mrs Sandettie struggling very hard to keep a straight face and I just burst out laughing and left the room.

He never really said anything after that, probably because every time I saw him afterwards, I would run my fingers through my hair.
( sandettie light vessel automatic New Twitter - @bollocksreally, Fri 25 Nov 2011, 12:25, Reply)

Someone I know
Got chased through a field by a flock of sheep. Vaulted over the fence, and then stood there yelling back at them, "What do you think you're doing? I'm a vegetarian!"
(Sivvus trolley collision in the fruit aisle led to a jam, Fri 25 Nov 2011, 12:24, 9 replies)

Insulted by a pensioner
On the way out of a pub with my mate, some granny passing us stopped him and asked for his autograph, as she thought he was Paul Potts.

He was not amused.
( Regger, Fri 25 Nov 2011, 12:24, 1 reply)

Rodney Rude
(www.rude.com.au/)
( Zank Frappa Who let the lefties in?, Fri 25 Nov 2011, 12:21, 1 reply)

There's so much Malcolm Tucker to chose from. I'll go for this one ....
www.youtube.com/watch?v=OXmcGdGe6ak
( Ramsay Tupper, Fri 25 Nov 2011, 12:15, Reply)

Highly intelligent ex-girlfriend,
doing a double something at Oxford, was also a jazz singer, played duo gig with me at some Uni posh dinner, penguin suit, robes, the lot.

From one of the speakers: 'So, as you can see, it's not what you know, but who.'

Instant retort from (genuine, professional, PhD with knobs on) grammar nazi sitting at top table:'Actually, it's not "who you know" - it's "whom".'
( blyerkit e k trilby, Fri 25 Nov 2011, 12:12, Reply)

I'm quite mild-mannered generally...
and don't argue or cross people if I can help it. I generally sit on the fence when it comes to conflicting views, even if it means nodding uncomfortably at some of my parents vaguely racist ideologies, and remaining completely neutral, just to avoid a discussion. But there is one thing I can't stand, and it's when someone points something obvious out to me as if I didn't know it, or if someone pretends like they know something, when they actually know nothing. I don't know quite why I have a problem, but I very occasionally lash out, completely out of character. Both occasions I can think of in particular were at BBQs (but different ones).

The first was at Uni. I can't remember how it came up, but we were discussing the ingredients list on tomato ketchup. I mused that per 100g of ketchup, there was in fact over 100g of tomato, as a how-do-they-do-that-but-really-I-know-how-they-do-that kind of statement. My friend chipped in, innocently,

"Well...they dehydrate them don't they...that's why there's..."

And then mid-sentence I interrupted him, shouting, "Duh! Obviously you twat! Obviously that's what they do, you cunt!"

The other time was at home, for a BBQ for my birthday. It turned out only three of my friends were actually free to come to my BBQ, so my parents padded it out with some of their friends. Amongst them a know-nothing-know-it-all who knows my dad. I'll call him Dave, not out of anonymity, but because I can't genuinely remember his name. He talked with a scientific vocabulary and conviction that persuaded my parents he knew a lot. In reality, he knew nothing. Anyway, suddenly, from underneath one of the garden chairs that had been sat in the leafy corners of the patio for months, crept the mother of all house spiders, right across my mum's midriff. She screamed, and flung in onto the table where my dad caught it under a glass. He flipped it up, and started shaking it about, laughing and joking about making it dizzy. My mum, though startled, told my dad to stop being so mean to it, and that it was 'animal cruelty'.

It was then that Dave chipped in, in a condescending tone. "What? It's not an animal you silly begger!" to my mum. My ears pricked up.

"Well what is it then?" said my mum.

"Well, it's an insect isn't it! You daft woman!" he replied.

I then stood up, at the other end of the table, and walked over. "It is an animal, you fucktard. And it's not an insect, it's an arachnid, which are both classes in the animal kingdom, you absolute bell end!"

I then took the spider, and stormed off, throwing it back into the undergrowth, leaving the whole table in complete silence.
( guffguff fuckes your gradeds balls!, Fri 25 Nov 2011, 12:11, 15 replies)

While being bundled out of my local pub
by angry staff and one or two of his exhausted and embarrassed friends an extremely drunk man was overheard to remark rather loudly "Cunt it up your fucking ball bag!"
It remains one of the best things I've ever heard.
( presferatu, Fri 25 Nov 2011, 12:04, Reply)

"Winston, you're drunk."
"Bessie, you're ugly. But tomorrow, I shall be sober."
( PMGT -Bacon., Fri 25 Nov 2011, 11:59, Reply)

More philosophy...
As mentioned a short time ago, my department when I was a research student used to run weekly Monday afternoon seminars at which a visiting speaker would come and tell staff and research students about their work in progress.

D was either in the closing weeks of his PhD, or had just been given it - I can't remember which. Either way, he was recognised as being scarily good, and he took no prisoners either in debate or while teaching. One Monday, we were gathered to hear a paper given by someone who was A Big Name in his particular field. He spoke for the required 40 minutes or so, and D sat looking out of the window.

The paper over, questions were invited from the audience. D put up his hand.
"Thanks for that interesting paper," he began. "I suppose that, in response, someone could argue that..." and he proceeded to take apart Big Name's paper, point by point, without notes. With every sentence, Big Name crumpled a little more. He plainly didn't know how he was going to respond to this barrage. To call it a textbook example of how to demolish a philosophical argument would be inaccurate: it was the sort of demonstration that doesn't get mentioned in the textbooks because noone would believe that an off-the-cuff response could be so surgical and so devastating.
"Um... well..." Big Name stumbled in response. "Yes. Those are good points, and I'd probably have to take them into account. It's possible that you're substantially right."

And how did D respond to this?
"Oh, no," he said. "I think you're right. I was just describing a response to you that someone could make. I think they'd be nuts if they did, though."

Big Name didn't stick around for drinks afterwards.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Fri 25 Nov 2011, 11:55, 11 replies)

This.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=5hfYJsQAhl0
( PMGT -Bacon., Fri 25 Nov 2011, 11:52, Reply)

On leaving my first proper job, under paid and overworked, as a barristers clerk.
I was working for a chambers in London for an absolute beast of a woman call Jo, who took great pleasure on picking on me all through my probation, about a week before it ended I had decided I'd had enough and quietly resigned and as I (and indeed they) were still on probabtion, I could leave that day which I had decided to do.

Now Jo, was about as anal as they come, exacting in her standards and a right bitch to boot. She had been particularly awful all day and my blood began to boil.

She'd had me stuffing envelopes all afternoon so dead on 5:30 and half way through my task I stopped and started putting my coat on.

"Where do you think you're going?" Said she.

"Home actually, Jo" Said I.

"You sit yourself back down, you can leave when you've finished Stuffing those envelopes,they need to go out tonight"

"Jo, what time do you make it?"

"5:32 precisely"

"Well in that case, as of 5:30, I am no longer under the employ of these chambers, so you can *stuff* those envelopes up your arse".

Jo, with a facial expression akin to a stunned mullet, was unable to form a response to that so I smiled sweetly, skipped out into the early evening and got absolutely stinking drunk.

It was cathartic, perfectly delivered, 3 months of pent up hurt and anger, vanished.

On the flipside I woke up the next day jobless, with no chance of a reference but it still makes me smile.
(GirlOfTheWorld, Fri 25 Nov 2011, 11:50, 6 replies)

Sid the Sexist
Just one that i remember from the above strip in Viz years ago:

Sid the Sexist - "Hoo, lass, can ah get ye a drink, like?"
Random woman - "Nah, piss off, you pervert" (or words to that effect)
Sid the Sexist - "Sorry, love, but I think you misheard me. I was asking what you're going to do for a face when Godzilla wants his arse back."

*cue Sid getting hoofed in the knackers by the woman*

Gold
( Fray Brentos *mega-belms*, Fri 25 Nov 2011, 11:50, Reply)

Oooh, ooh, another one!
One of my dad's old uni mates was a photographer, and Australian. He'd been hired to take some photos for the university brochure, and one student went crazy when he pointed the camera at her, flinching away as though it was going to steal her soul.
HER: "No! No! Don't take a photo of me! I'm completely un-photogenic!"
DAD'S MATE: "Yeah, Ugly people often are, I find."
(universalpsykopath loves what you've done with your hair., Fri 25 Nov 2011, 11:48, 2 replies)

I think I've just read the best put down!
"The fact that the blog is about ethics can probably be deduced from the phrase "I run a blog about medical ethics".

Nice one Enzyme.
(Captain Placid 24/7 ball gags, brownie mix and clown porn, Fri 25 Nov 2011, 11:45, 2 replies)

Every office has a loudmouth. In many, it's a woman. In mine, it's a man.
He's a big man, a Jehovah's Witness, and he holds forth loudly on any subject he feels falls within his areas of expertise, vis, everything. Because I'm the youngest bloke in the office, and therefore a representative of the 'Yoof of today' I'm often the target of his ire. To get any work done, I often find myself having to put in the headphones, just to block him out. One day, he took offense at this.
"Oi, Uni, I'm talking to you!"
"I can't hear you, Roger. It's awesome."
(universalpsykopath loves what you've done with your hair., Fri 25 Nov 2011, 11:43, Reply)

A contemporary at university...
...who decided to write a thesis on rap lyrics was greeted by one of the older/more traditional Cambridge dons with:
"Ah Matthew. How is your treatise on the word 'bitch' coming along?"
( prince-igor si tacuisses, philosophus mansisses, Fri 25 Nov 2011, 11:41, 1 reply)

Well, I thought it was funny...
Many years ago I was a trainee manager in a pottery factory. My immediate manager 'Steve' was something of a Scrooge, with no fashion-sense. He drove a Lada, maintained a comb-over, and wore clothes that had seen many, many washes - especially knitwear, which had lost its elasticity and hung limply from his fairly corpulent form. All of this conspired to make him a figure of some ridicule... behind his back.

He was distantly related to the canteen supervisor so received preferential treatment in the staff canteen. One day, he returned from the serving hatch carrying a particularly generous portion of Manchester tart and custard.

"Bloody Hell, Steve," said the works manager, "you must be hungry."
"No," I interjected, "he's trying to grow into his cardigan."

The entire room erupted into laughter, except for one, chubby, bitter bloke with a comb-over, who went on to ensure the remainder of my time with him as my manager was somewhat less enjoyable.
( Snappyuk gets BIGGER with free sample., Fri 25 Nov 2011, 11:41, 3 replies)

gentleman's evening
on a stag at a comedy club that also features strippers later on

compere: "gentleman, tonight you are in for a top night of c_nt and comedy"


heckler: "where's the comedy?"
(Darth Vodka, Fri 25 Nov 2011, 11:36, 4 replies)

Valentino's Nightclub (R.I.P) in Stoke on Trent sometime around 1991
There was this guy in a wheelchair who latched onto us one night. He seemed pleasant enough and we bought him a Pint.

After an hour or so of this and a good 4 or 5 pints out of us (should he be done for drunk wheeling I wonder?) it was clear that he had no intention of putting his hand in his pocket and he kept following us around like one of us was bastard Chorlton off the telly or something.

So we decided to go to the top bar, which was only up 2 steps (Follow us up there you fucker.)

After a while we went back down to hang around by the dancefloor where all the Stokey Señoritas (Read:Easy shags) were grouped.

Sure enough, Ironsides wheels up to us and tries to cadge another pint. Having enough of this Darren leans down and says,"No disrespect mate but just because you're a fucking cripple don't think you can take advantage of us."

We were speechless but he got the message and wheeled off into the fog. We did occasionally catch glimpses of him through the mist gyrating on 2 wheels on the dancefloor, crashing into everyone like something off of Robot Wars.
( Airman Gabber Living life like a 70's BBC presenter, Fri 25 Nov 2011, 11:36, 4 replies)

A friend of mine was recently on holiday in seaside North England
In a kebab/pizza shop, was being stared at by a leerly youth and his girl friend.
They made eye contact a few times and my friend got the feeling that the chav was going to intrude on that longest of silent vigils, waiting for his order, and start hassling him.

"You fancy my bird?"
"No"
"You saying she ugly?"

My mate, in his broadest Glaswegian accent calmly but deliberately drawls. "naw mate, I wouldn't ride her into battle"

Chav goes all quiet, and leaves
( Fire & Forget it's the only way to be sure, Fri 25 Nov 2011, 11:34, Reply)

Sorry, can't remember who said it ...
and I'd be surprised if it's not been offered here already but my favourite was when x was asked if he had put on a bit of weight he replied with words to the effect of, "That's because every time I fuck your wife she gives me a biscuit."

I find myself in a similar position to x but haven't had the chutzpah to use it yet.
( Ramsay Tupper, Fri 25 Nov 2011, 11:30, 2 replies)

In front of all his mates at university

...a friend of mine once called his girlfriend 'fundamentally unlikeable' because she wouldn't open the window.
( Turquoise Hexagon Sun has just dropped acid on, Fri 25 Nov 2011, 11:19, 3 replies)

There's the old classic: "if I wanted your opnion i'd have given you it"

The shameful response to the homeless guy begging for change "sorry I only carry notes" (Yes I felt a little guilty, but it cracked us up)

The time a student tried to call me stupid by inferring the assignment i'd set and the group size they had to work in was "stupid", I simply said "well I wrote it, it's my idea so you must think i'm supid" and received "Yes, see you dont like it when we speak to you the way you speak to us" (given than i'm really very nice and polite this was weird) so the kid got flashed "i'm sorry but your opinion doesn't matter to me so isn't important enough for me not to like" (he stormed out, and later wrote an apology)

but the classic, all time favourite is the responsibility of the wife.

Upon leaving work I called my wife, deciding to inform her that I would be stopping in the local watering hole for refreshment on the way home as I had arranged to meet someone there with whom I needed to discuss some business or other. She replied "You're not going for a drink" and I firmly let her know that I was. Upon reaching home she accused me of "only drinking that can of beer to cover up the fact you've been in the pub" I replied that this was not the case and she exclaimed her pleasant surprise that I had not been in the bar. I replied "No, you missunderstand, I went in the bar, and then I fancied a can as I walked up the hill, i'm just not hiding it"..... so the next night I phone her to let her know i'm setting off for home, only to receive the rude response "you're not going for a drink tonight".... now anybody who knows anything about men, particularly in relation to something a woman says, and particularly in relation to it being uncalled for and unprovoked, and particularly in relation to something that if they think about it, they want it (cue... no sex, no chips, no sports, no drink...) and have ever heard of reverse psychology, will tell you that no matter how much a man might not want a drink, or might have not thought of having a drink, you've just mentioned drink (WANT/NEED) and told him he can't do it (YOU CANT TELL ME ANYTHING AND ILL SHOW YOU)... obviously I declared that I was not going for a drink, and thanks for suggesting it. Her last gambit was "if i smell beer on your breath when you get home then i'm not speaking to you".........

"Brilliant, a pint and some peace and quiet".........

Sorry, but you cannot, cannot, cannot say that to a man!

pint and some peace and quiet
(Universon, Fri 25 Nov 2011, 11:15, 6 replies)

Out with a bunch of friends one night when we ran into a guy who wasn't exactly popular with us due to slapping the sister of one our group.
He was hovering around like an unwanted scouse stepchild trying to get in on our silly jokes when the brother of the slappee(not a slapper)blurted out
the line "We don't want you here, the only reason you exist is because your father was to lazy to have a wank!"
(Official Sarc, Fri 25 Nov 2011, 11:14, Reply)

Yes he could!
There was a great story doing the rounds at a publishing company I worked for a few years ago which may end up being an urban myth.

In the end of year management meeting, the MD was asking the group for their ideas for the year ahead to help save costs and increase profits.

One of editors, Nick (who was disliked by the group for his maverick style) suggested they close one of the publications because it was dated and no longer relevant. This caused a lot of unrest in the meeting because his suggestion would results in many redundancies, including a number of his peers in the room.

The MD was not amused and said: "Christ Nick, could you have said anything more controversial?"

To which Nick replied: "Yes, you're a cunt, how's that?"
(BinDipper, Fri 25 Nov 2011, 11:06, Reply)

ZEBRA!
This is an interesting one as the putdown is self-inflicted.

A friend of mine was going to a fancy dress party one winter's evening, bedecked in his finest pimp outfit and leopard print hat. Flashy cane optional.

Crossing a street in one of Edinburgh's less salubrious areas he is spotted by a gang of feral youths supping Edinburgh's finest White Lightning. The ballsy, brash one of the group pipes up.

"Haw you!", indicating at my friend.

"Aw, ya bawbag!", my friend quickened his pace.

His friends snicker.

"See you and yer fuckin' leopard print hat? Maks ye look like a... like a fucking ZEBRA!"
(Schumann makes awesome quiches., Fri 25 Nov 2011, 11:03, Reply)

Sir Thomas Beecham was good at these (as I'm sure all musicians already know)...
"What do you think of Stainer's 'Crucifiction' Sir Thomas?"
"I'm in favour of it"

To a bad cellist:
"Madam, you have God's gift to man between your legs. Kindly don't scratch it"

Having asked the name of a musician who'd displeased him, and been told it was 'Ball'
"How very singular"

Many many more, but I can't remember them. Google him.
( prince-igor si tacuisses, philosophus mansisses, Fri 25 Nov 2011, 11:00, 2 replies)