This is a bit difficult for me...
A new girl started working in my office.

She had it all going on all over the place, pretty much a spit for Kat Dennings. As the months went by we spent more and more time with each other. Whenever we went on a work do we'd always end up sitting with each other.

Nothing was ever going to happen, I'm married to The Lovely Mrs Ring of Fire, but it doesn't do the old ego any harm. I promised myself that when the chemistry became just too much for 'Kat' to bare, I'd let her down gently.

And then it happened. We were in a bar one Friday evening, she was talking about how hard it was to find a real man and how 'the boys' in the office were harassing her.

She put her drink down, smiled and looked deep into my eyes, and said;

"That's why I like spending time with you, I know you won't try anything on."

"You're like a cuddly big brother."

Cuddly!?

CUDDLY!!!!!

The cheeky cow.
( Ring Of Fire A petty, drooling belming butthurt retard., Sat 12 Jan 2013, 17:58, 25 replies)

B.O.G.O.F
i have 2 tales for you today, the first of which sees me on the receiving end.

15 years ago, i was in the habit of going to town of a weekend with ronnie, a mate of mine at the time. one saturday, he announced that he'd invited a new friend to come out with us, and we'd be picking him up on the way into town.
we arrived at this new friend's house to find him waiting outside. he hopped in the back of the car and introductions were made.
without so much as a pause, he turned to me and said "wow, aren't you fat?"
apart from the fact i could hardly deny it, it was quite refreshing to have someone say it and get it out of the way, rather than avoid the issue. so, i simply replied "yes. yes i am."
we've been best friends ever since!


about a year ago, i was shopping in asda when i spotted the poor unfortunate woman halfway down the aisle. she seemed oblivious to the people staring at her and whispering and, as not one of them had the decency to tell her, i felt it was up to me to help the poor creature.
fighting the urge to simply walk away, i approached her and said, as quietly and subtly as i could, "excuse me, you've got your skirt tucked into your knickers."
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Sat 12 Jan 2013, 14:38, 2 replies)

All I said was
that my portion of rice and peas looked a little niggardly. And then all hell broke loose
.
( buffet_the_appetite_slayer ٩(●̮̃•)۶ jacked in to the ICE on, Sat 12 Jan 2013, 9:31, 10 replies)

Look out!
It looks like Shambo has started his run.
(Misery McUglywife an attention seeking sociopathic fuckstain., Sat 12 Jan 2013, 9:11, 6 replies)

BO on the train
I had a long train journey down South to London with the boyfriend. We got on the carriage and settled down in our reserved seats when I started to realise someone on the carriage had really bad B.O.

As it was quite a quiet train and I didn't want to offend anybody, I wasn't sure how to convey to my boyfriend that I thought we should move as it stank in here. I was sure he could smell the offending odour too. I hit upon a brainwave and thought, I'll write it on my phone and show him.

I quickly typed out 'Stinks in here. Someone has bad B.O. Shall we move carriages?' and showed him. This is the point when he said in a rather loud voice 'BO?' (pronouncing it BO as in BO' Selecta or phonetically 'Bow') 'What's BO? Who has BO?!', at which point I went bright red and slid as far as I could, down in my train seat...
(tiddlywink, Fri 11 Jan 2013, 23:18, 8 replies)

WRONG NAME

(andycrass loves two hats on, Fri 11 Jan 2013, 20:31, 5 replies)

My cousin moved to St Mary's Church in the hollow of the white hazel near a rapid whirlpool and the Church of St Tysilio of the red cave
I find it hard to say
(Captain Placid 24/7 ball gags, brownie mix and clown porn, Fri 11 Jan 2013, 16:59, 3 replies)

I once saw Louis Walsh strolling down Tottenham Court Road, bold as you like. Unable to articulate my rage I made my feelings known by throwing a weighty stone at his face.
It missed him completely and took out the eye of a small child. But I think the point was made.
(Brigadier an old boot sitting on a man's face - forever, Fri 11 Jan 2013, 16:48, 1 reply)

Frankly my flabber hasn't been as gasted is it is right now
Not one mention of those little wooden structures some people have in their gardens
(sittingduck Attention seeking, bullshitting fuck-knuckle, Fri 11 Jan 2013, 16:24, 35 replies)

Beer soaked accidental trauma
I've been a loyal wingman to Woody ever since the days of Sixth Form. At the time of this tale, Woody had been working as a nurse in A&E and as such the nights out became ever more beer soaked and debauched, but on this fateful evening, in the depths of some dingy nightclub he needed absolutely no help whatsoever, for a lass accosted him at the bar. We were all a bit the worse for wear at this point, she was clearly just as hammered as we were.

“I know you from somewhere don’t I?” she slurred.
“You do look familiar, but I can’t place the face. Fancy a beer?”

And with that they spent the next hour getting reacquainted, drinking and flirting, so the rest of us left them to their own devices for a while. When we found them again, they were enthusiastically snogging on a grubby, booze stained sofa, in a manner that suggested that the pair of them would be doing the no pants dance before the night was out.

Sure enough, she tagged along to Woody’s place and disappeared into his room with him as I made myself comfortable on the spare room sofa and drifted off in a miasma of beer addled sleep, trying to ignore the sound of enthusiastic shagging coming from the room next door.

I was abruptly awakened at seven-ish in the morning by the sound of rapid footsteps, female sobbing and the front door closing. What the fuck was that all about?

Shaken from my hangover and on the pretext of having to visit the bathroom, I popped my head around the door of the lounge to find out what had happened and sure enough, there sat a traumatised Woody in his jeans looking as if his entire world had just caved in.

“You alright mate? What the fuck just happened?” I asked

“I thought she looked familiar...” he replied, as he scratched his head and stared at the carpet.

“Come on, spill the beans, who was it?”

“Well, last year we had bloke ambulanced in who’d been in an RTA” he said

“Yeah...” I replied

“Well, he didn't make it. I was on duty that night”.

“Oh shit. Tell me that wasn't his sister?” I asked.

“No, it’s worse. That was his girlfriend. And I was the one who broke her the bad news that night. I didn't place the face until ten minutes ago.”
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Fri 11 Jan 2013, 15:27, 17 replies)

For all of my recent puns, I would like to apologise.
Sory.
Sorrry.
Soorry.

Shit, Elton John was right!
( Muns, Fri 11 Jan 2013, 15:19, 4 replies)

I like saying cringeworthy things and tellling people what other people wouldn't because they are too polite
That's also why I like b3ta.
( DinivanX Has stinging piss after drinking Pact Coffee, Fri 11 Jan 2013, 15:18, 3 replies)

Yes!
I recall a situation with the Lady Mayoress. I remember the year because it was just after my triumph in the Basingstoke Players musical production of Winnie Mandela’s life story. I say triumph, there was a kerfuffle amongst the dungaree wearing coves at my decision to black-up. I thought it added an extra dimension to my Willie Whitelaw, but as they say, everyone’s a critic. Back to the point in question! It wasn’t the first time I’d met the Mayoress, of course. It was she that awarded me the first prize in the Little Amwell radish eating competition. She mentioned how much she enjoyed seeing a man masticate. The old ears let me down badly, not the first time I’ve been on a register. Where was I? Oh Yes! Winnie. Well, after my success the Players were presented to the Mayoress. As she approached it became clear from a terrible smell that the old dear had shit herself. Luckily at this point the usual fog cleared from the old noggin and I knew exactly what should be done to avoid embarrassment, and I shit me self there and then. Of course the strain brought on a massive heart attack, but an awkward conversation avoided I’m sure you’ll agree.
(Brigadier an old boot sitting on a man's face - forever, Fri 11 Jan 2013, 14:51, 5 replies)

Duck holocaust
I live and work in the Peoples Republic of China, for a company mostly run by ex-pats. I get on well with the general manager, as he is a Brit with a good sense of what is funny and appreciates my b3ta style humour. The engineering director however is in serious need of being less intense i.e. getting that iron rod removing from his arse and lightening the f7ck up. We have had several run ins, about his inability to take my sense of humor, to the point the GM had us in his office to tell him to get a clue (my version of events, but he didn't tell me to notch it down, yet).

One day, after I had returned from Beijing I was describing some particularly great Beijing (Peking) duck, the the stuck up one asked if it was the same place he went to? He described how it labeled each duck with a number on its wing, which corresponded to records of its rearing. "So you mean they take ducks of a selected breed, number them on the arm, and stick them in an oven? What is this restaurant? Duck Aushwitz?"

It was around this time I found out the tightly wrapped one's lack of sense of humour was possibly related to his being of German descent. Even the GM looked at me as if to say"did you really just say that to him?"
( jagwap, Fri 11 Jan 2013, 14:45, 21 replies)

My wife...
She is dead. But is not important, I have a new wife.
(TheManWithThePlan cussed your mum on, Fri 11 Jan 2013, 13:38, 4 replies)

My wife...
To put it as simply as I possibly can, for a living she hawks the hard outer bodies of dead crustaceans on the beach.
( Muns, Fri 11 Jan 2013, 13:09, 4 replies)

dociousaliexpilisticfragicalirupes

(ParaSitius is an Optimistic Pessimist, Fri 11 Jan 2013, 12:59, 4 replies)

Technical Acumen
A contract job in the UK turned pear-shaped for me due to a throw-away remark. I was hauled before an HR board to discuss my "racist comments" to a co-worker.

It started when one of the computer admins left and his job was posted on the internal website.

"Windows Admin role?" chirruped a girl who worked near me. "Look at the salary!! That's 4 times what I get paid. I'm going to apply."

I looked at her said:

"A Windows admin role needs a really high degree of technical knowledge - and you have the technical abilities of a chocolate biscuit. You can't even use Outlook"

She laughed - and then went to HR to charge me with racism. She was English/Indian and was about as dark as I get when I stand in front of a light bulb for an hour.


The HR interview was fun. (Aside: Why are almost all HR Harpies female?) Apparently, my crime was the use of the word "chocolate" when I described her technical skills.

"Why did you use that word?" snarls Harpy1 "Was it a reference to her Indian heritage"

"Not at all" I replied. "At the time I was eating my lunch and had chocolate digestive in my hand. I just used it to illustrate a point. The point being that my biscuit had more technical acumen than her"

Anyways. This shit went on for a couple of hours. HR wanting to fire me. My boss and his boss telling them there were being ridiculous and I was needed to finish the project I was on. Then, all was adjourned until the next day so HR could poll the people who who worked with me to see if I was a KKK member.

Late the next day I was told that all complaints were dropped.

Designated Driver - nicknamed Desi, was cap-wearing, pork-dodging, full-bearded member of our Muslim community. I'd just recommended him for promotion.

One of the girls from the support center went mental. She was one of my leper-colony, smoking mates. Indian, very dark skin and a thick accent. I'd had her and her husband over for dinner a few times.

Moral of the story is, if you have to describe someones ability and refer to a biscuit - don't use the word chocolate.

Cheers

TLDR - some bint tried to get me sacked by calling her technical ability as on par with a chocolate biscuit.
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Fri 11 Jan 2013, 12:54, 22 replies)

Over Christmas I was driving a van borrowed from my missus's work
A mate asked me if I could take his old CRT telly to the tip for him, and I said I'd do it for the price of a beer.

He couldn't say fairer than that.
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Fri 11 Jan 2013, 12:47, Reply)

I'm not a pheasant plucker but a pheasant plucker's son, and I'm busy plucking pheasants 'til the pheasant plucker comes.

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 11 Jan 2013, 12:12, 11 replies)

Our receptionist, the lovely Sarah.
Not fat, curvy - Big DD tits and an curvy arse. but everything else was probably a size 10.

One summer she turned up in a white skin-tight summer dress which was very flattering to her figure. The staff kitchen was right by reception and I don't recall ever making so many cups of coffee for people than that day. Whenever I was in the kitchen there were also guys from other departments making brews on this day, despite them having their own kettle downstairs.

After work a few of us went for a pint and she joined us. After a few drinks I had to say something.
"Sarah, do you know that the cloth your dress is made out of has the qualities of a tea-bag and everybody can see your arse as clear as day. Lovely thong by the way."

She blushed a thousand shades of red

"But I walked all the way through town wearing that dress at lunchtime."

"Yea. I was behind you for a while. I didn't like to say anything."

Apparently she gave it away to charity the next day. This was 20 years ago and I still remind her of it whenever I bump into her.
( Airman Gabber Living life like a 70's BBC presenter, Fri 11 Jan 2013, 11:36, 11 replies)

I'd been out drinking, while Mrs Vagabond had a gay mate and his long-term boyfriend 'round to visit.
The couple are quite well-to-do - they like the finer things in life - they discuss art, have wonderful taste, and are keen fans of opera.

I got back at about 10ish, quite refreshed, and all at home were on the outside of several bottles of wine between them, and in the middle of a deep and sincere discussion on the dynamics of personal relationships.

I greet everyone, check they're good for drinks etc, and go and get myself another beer.

Settling into my armchair, listening to the conversation, I open my beer, light up a cigarette, and, to get involved in the chat myself, open with, "So ... one of the things every straight guy wonders is ... how do you decide who's Arthur and who's Martha, then? Do you take it in turns, or is it a set rule thing?"
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 11 Jan 2013, 10:54, 23 replies)

I don't know how to say this but...
A genuine (and tragic) story from a friend of mine.

Friend had a younger sister who was on a gap year in Africa. There was a terrible accident and she was killed. A lady policy officer was given the task of breaking the news to the family. The family kept in contact with the police officer so found out later that she was junior at the time and this was the first bit of bad news she had had to break.

Anyway, policelady drives into the drive of the parents house ready to break the news to the unsuspecting couple. An incident occurs in the dirveway leading to the following conversation being started by a very distraught policelady: "I'm [sob] terribly sorry but I have some bad news for you. Please can I come in. [Sob] I don't know where to start but I'm afraid your daughter has been involved in an accident and we've been informed that she was killed. [sob] I'm also sorry to have to say that I have just run over your cat. [Sobs uncontrollably]..."
(Gusofnavarone always makes a map of france from sarnies, Fri 11 Jan 2013, 10:22, 9 replies)

I once had to tell someone to stay about from my bins.
That was NOT fun, trus' me.
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Fri 11 Jan 2013, 10:13, 3 replies)

I just call 'em like I see 'em because I'm not afraid to speak my mind.
If people don't like it that's their problem.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 11 Jan 2013, 10:08, Reply)

As seen on TV
Are you in an office with someone whose desk is a mess of old crisp packets, and who is unpleasantly sweaty and rank? Are you all soft, Southern, poncy and embarassed about it? Then you need Bluff Yorkshireman!

Yes, Bluff Yorkshireman comes pre-programmed with guaranteed effective phrases like "Open a window in here, it stinks!", "That's the bin there, mate," and "Ey up, when did you last have a shower?"

Don't just take our word for it. Mr. AIS, of Berkshire, says "We were having all sorts of problems at our work. Then we got Bluff Yorkshireman, and bang! The ming is gone."

So get Bluff Yorkshireman today. Only £19.99. "£19.99? You can buy a house for that up north. Spoiled southern pansies."
( Amish Information Systems hates misplaced, commas, Fri 11 Jan 2013, 9:43, 14 replies)

Things that go bump in the night.
I once met a couple at Perth Airport in OZ. We were all waiting for a shuttle bus into the city and ended up sitting next to each other. He was very heard of hearing with two hearing aids, and she was completely deaf- They'd met at a school in America. We discussed where we'd been backpacking and what we planned to see in Australia, that kind of thing. At one point I rather insensitively mentioned how I hadn't quite got used to sleeping in dorm rooms full of other people, and the noise kept me awake. I was informed that this wasn't an issue for them.......because they always got their own room.

We ended up staying at the same hostel that night- they got a double room and I ended up in a dorm room next to it. They were apparently separated by a very thin wall as later that night we were treated to a noise that I can't accurately describe, but try to imagine Chewbacca butchering a live sealion. It went on for what seemed like ages and the inhabitants of the dormitory became quite worried for the poor creature that was making this other-worldly howl.

The couple sat with me while we had breakfast and mentioned that they thought the strange looks they were getting were of an anti-deaf nature and felt quite upset by them. I felt really bad saying that these looks were actually based on the incredibly loud noises his girlfriend made whilst having sex. Him then turning to her and explaining the situation through sign language, and the face she made upon its realisation was something that will haunt me for a fair few years yet.

They checked out about half an hour later.
(FartThroughAWalkieTalkie wished you were dead in ditch on, Fri 11 Jan 2013, 9:18, 8 replies)

Not saying the unsayable but
I've just read ringofyre's post, which surely counts as reading the unreadable.

If only it had been unwriteable.
( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Fri 11 Jan 2013, 8:59, 6 replies)