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This is a question Spoilt Brats

Mr Newton sighs, "ever known anyone so spoilt you would love to strangle? I lived with a Paris Hilton-a-like who complained about everything, stomped her feet and whinged till she got her way. There was a happy ending though: she had to drop out of uni due to becoming pregnant after a one night stand..."

Who's the spoiltest person you've met? Has karma come to bite them yet? Or did you in fact end up strangling them? Uncle B3ta (and the serious crimes squad) wants to know.

(, Thu 9 Oct 2008, 14:11)
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This question is now closed.

I want Bert
to get the last post because he isn't spoilt at all. In fact he is a lovely, lovely man.

oh bum
(, Thu 16 Oct 2008, 15:41, 1 reply)
My ex is REALLY spoiled.
Any man trying to sleep with her now might as well just open a window and fuck the world.
(, Thu 16 Oct 2008, 15:05, 15 replies)
Little brother's little friend
Last post?

When my little brother was around 7 years old, his friend came over for dinner. My mum had asked his mum in advance if there was anything in particular that he liked. She was told that he would ONLY eat McCain Micro Pizza and Micro Chips, this was when my family briefly lived in Scotland by the way. So my mum went out to the supermarket and bought those items especially. The little sod wouldn't eat them.
(, Thu 16 Oct 2008, 15:00, 4 replies)
I knew someone...

Who tried to get the B3ta Overlords to end the QotW, just because he told them to...and so that he could get the last post.

Sad eh?

Poor selfish spack and his delusions of grandeur.

The thing is though..he's not spoilt, he's just a cunt.

Can't remember his name though...but it starts with a 'P' and I think it has something to do with 'gays' and 'ponds'...

(, Thu 16 Oct 2008, 14:53, 10 replies)
I was never aware of the class divide ...
... until I went to Cambridge University.

I wondered why I never 'clicked' with anyone in my halls, until I discovered that I was the only one who needed a student loan. Having slaved in a newsagents all summer long for spending money, that kind of hurt. Right now in this QOTW, I can fully believe all the stories about students who have never ridden a bus before.

If nothing, my university experience has taught me what the class divide is all about. The higher your class, the more your life becomes about purpose. I was raised to believe that life was about making ends meet and paying the bills, and sure enough, four years after graduation that's what I find myself doing.

I refuse to develop a poisonous attitude about class, though. We Britons are terrible for this. Jeremy Clarkson put it best. "An American sees a guy in a Rolls Royce, he thinks: I'll have one of those one day. A Briton sees a guy in a Rolls Royce, he thinks: You bastard, I'll have you out of that one day."

Incidentally, I heard a stat about the Forbes 400 (American version of Sunday Times Rich List) that said something like 57% of the people on the list were born millionaires. Old money vs new money? No comparison really ...
(, Thu 16 Oct 2008, 14:19, 34 replies)
I guess it's too late to get any attention, but here goes
I had a couple with a little daughter as neighbours. The girl was about 4 years old and very sweet - blond hair, blue eyes, in short, a little angel.

But she was also a hideous little beast. She drove them nuts with constant whining, for be it toys, sweets or some other whims. She had frequent fights with the other children from the neighborhood and behaved generally like a snotty little princess. She was also quite noisy and threw sometimes gravel at my dog. She was their only child, and well, you get the idea - they had really spoiled her.

No wonder that they once came back from a holiday without her.
(, Thu 16 Oct 2008, 13:56, 8 replies)
After reading all this answers
I'm very confused.

All my friends lived with their parents, rent free and no job, at least until 25. That's the normal. Some of them at 32 still do it.

Your parents would look at you upset and asked what they did wrong if you tell them you want to move.

I have a friend (or had, she doesn't talk to me anymore) who studied History of Art (FFS, who studies that???) Being 28 she's still living with her parents, paying nothing at all, of course. She's upset with her father and wouldn't talk to him (for more than a year now) but demands through her mother to get her 100€ weekly money. And complains because it's not enough.

I don't understand it.

Edit: I forgot to add some important details, like that she got a car from his father and he was going to buy her and her boyfriend a flat until they broke up.
(, Thu 16 Oct 2008, 13:36, 10 replies)
Blokes are spoilt nowadays
Years ago you'd have to open up a girl's grundies to see her buttocks.
These days you need to open up her buttocks to see her grundies.
(, Thu 16 Oct 2008, 13:34, Reply)
Give Us A Push
I was so spoilt as a kid that it carried over into my life as an adult. But I did try to change.

So one night me and Missus Legless were about to go to bed when the doorbell rang. WTF? it was 11.30 and pissing down with rain. So I opened the door.

"Sorry to bother you but could you possibly give me a push?" asked the fresh-faced young man in front of me.

"Fuck off!" I retorted and slammed the door in his face.

Missus Legless said:"That was a bit harsh. Can you remember when we first met and we broke down in the middle of Buttfuck-NoWhere? In a storm? And that nice farmer got our car going again? Go help that poor guy out"

So, knowing that karma catches up with you, I pulled on a heavy coat and went out to give the guy a hand.

"Hello? Where are you?" I called out.

"Over here - on the swing...."

Thank you very much. I'll be under the pier all week...
(, Thu 16 Oct 2008, 13:11, 8 replies)
I spoil myself
So fellow QotW-ers

Should I drive the 800 metres to the recycling centre to drop off 4 empty cans of diet coke in my:

Lotus Exige?

Audi R8?

Aston Martin DB9?


Halfy by name fucking more than a half in me bank account arf arf
(, Thu 16 Oct 2008, 12:55, 19 replies)
Is it just me or is this just spoilt, intellectual snobbery?
Someone I know, who clearly considers themselves a cut above the rest of us. However, he has been single for an inordinately long time and joined an online dating agency. Fair enough, busy lives etc, I can see the logic. However when filling out his profile rather than saying all the qualities that he would like in his potential partner ( sensitive, witty, well read, well traveled, whatever) he put 'must be educated to degree level'.

So basically he can while away the long winter nights looking at his new partners graduation photos presumably, while the rest of us get with having real relationships with people based on mutual respect and understanding?

I may be over reacting so tell me if you think I am. I just found it repugnant that someone would dismiss an entire swathe of people as not good enough basically on such a flimsy premise. Its not a job application for pete's sake.
(, Thu 16 Oct 2008, 12:51, 9 replies)
I guess I was and sometimes still am a bit spoilt. Difference being that I quite quickly understood at the age of 13 or 14 that I couldn't just *ask* for everything. Mind you, the last time I threw a tantrum about something I wanted was when I was about 8 and my little sister got a toy and I didn't when we were at the supermarket.

Yeah, I went to boarding school from the age of 12 until I was 18 and yes, they were both Private/Public (whatever - not state!). I got an International Bac, which in my opinion is superior to A-levels unless you take at least five. I knew my wines when I was 16. My mother is a diplomat... Admittedly though, I have shown a certain lack of gratefulness I suppose. Hmm. At least my brother doesn't rent me a private jet for my birthday as a matter of course like one of my *friends*.

But the worst example I know is of my mum's best friend. As a child growing up in a catholic family, she grew up with 8 others and thereby always felt she was being treated unfairly. This has led her to make sure that her 3 sons ALWAYS have exactly the same things. If one gets a present, so do the other two. And there's no. Way. Round. This.

And they are little brats. The eldest one is now 11 and I think he's turned better, but the other two... ARGH! The middle kid basically only eats:

- Pasta with butter and parmesan on top or
- Pizza Margherita

He essentially refuses to eat anything more than a mouthful of anything else, and you can forget fruit. Oh, and he eats sweets of course. This means he's actually malnourished and is tiiiiiny for his age! His mum's tried everything: starving him, threatening, bribing... He just won't eat it. no chance in hell. And he's got other issues: he MAY have autism, but they're still not sure. He's certainly not stupid: you can see the smirk on his face when his mum starts screaming and crying. He's a manipulative little cunt.

Of course, his little brother caught on real quick that this is the best way to piss mummy off. So what does he do? He doesn't eat pasta with parmesan. Or Pizza Margherita... But he's a fat little bastard so he eats everything else. But then abruptly stops eating something and says he wanted something else and blablabla.

I'll put it another way: They have no less than THREE different types of natural yoghurt in the fridge. One for each kid, who'll obviously refuse to eat any other than his own.

(, Thu 16 Oct 2008, 12:28, 3 replies)
Following on from Haberman's post about the parent in the supermarket....

The other week I was in town with the nuggets and one of them began to get stroppy about having more money - he wanted some but without working for it as they both usually earn any money over and above the 50p they get each week for sweets. Of course I told him to dream on about me handing over cash for no good reason, so he sulked...

We happened to be in HMV at the time.

I walked past a stand full of DVDs.

I said in my loudest voice,

"Oh look darling! They've got your favourite here! It's High School Musical!"

His brother nearly ruptured his bladder.

He grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the shop.

Two days later he earned himself £5 for moving and stacking a load of logs for the winter. He's also offered to wash and vacuum out my car for £3.

I know those High School Musical DVDs are expensive.

And I know I'll probably have to pay for his therapy pretty soon.
(, Thu 16 Oct 2008, 12:11, 14 replies)
Maybe not 100% relevant
More un-thinking than spoilt perhaps, but a few years ago we lived in a house next door to a student house. They weren't too bad most of the time - one was a music student and would practice the cello until late into the night - how can you complain about that?

But one Thursday night at around 2.30am there was a ring at the doorbell. Who the fuck!!! We were all asleep at the time - our sprog was in the middle of her GCSEs, we normally went to bed well before 12.00. So, pulled on my dressing-gown and went to see what the emergency was. There was a student there, in a shirt and trousers - shivering. I'd never seen him before in my life.

"Sorry to disturb you - I live next door. I've just got home, nobody's in and I've forgotten my key."


"Well, I haven't got a coat and it's really cold out here."

What the fuck??????? The miserable student looked up at me with puppy eyes. What did he want? A sofa to sleep on? A house-breaking kit? A tele-porter? A nice hot cup of tea and a chat?

"Here you go," I said, taking my warm winter jacket off the coat peg, "you can bring it back tomorrow."

I passed him the jacket, closed the door and went back to bed. He wasn't outside at 6.30am when I got up, but he brought the jacket back later.

What was he thinking? If I'd done what he'd done, I'd have gone to a friend or suffered in silence. Friggin' students.
(, Thu 16 Oct 2008, 12:07, 7 replies)
in the supermarket...
a mother and teen daughter. Daughter attempts to sneak a packet of choccy biscuits into the shopping trolley; the mother spots this and puts them back on the shelf.

Defiantly, the stroppy teen tries again ...

... but the mother then threatens to throw a strop at high volume unless the recalcitrant teen behaves.

The choccy biscuits stay on the shelf.

Does it count if it's the parent threatening to throw a tantrum?
(, Thu 16 Oct 2008, 11:50, 9 replies)
I hate Harry Potter
In 2001 my wife, then girlfriend made me come to the local flea pit with her to see this cinematographic feast.

I arrived late, having gone to the wrong cinema, (well how was I to know it was considered an arthouse film for the love of god?), and was then put off by the number of toffee nosed (bear in mind this was in Cambridge, seat of learning and home to a large proportion of the countries fat-headed, overprivelidged youth), guffawing, vacuous little toe-rags seated in my immediate vicinity.

At one point some little fauntleroy who had been muttering to her friend for the past hour about what was going on in the film (I am an adult, and as a result had not partaken in any of Ms Rowlings tomes on the teenage wizard, and before any of you bleeding hearts start bleeting on about how great they are, they were written for children, no matter how much you dress them up), actually stood up in the cinema and raised her arms to the side in a sort of Jesus christ pose.

I tapped her on the shoulder and barked at her to sit down, please. (Never let it be said I forget my manners even when being assertive).

Her hook nosed harridan of a mother quietly asked her to sit down, and then cast me a reproachful look.

Clearly 'gifted' children should be allowed to do whatever they like.
(, Thu 16 Oct 2008, 11:40, 18 replies)
What is being spoiled?
Something adults seem to forget is what a Lord of the Flies-like experiment in social Darwinism school actually is. The slightest weakness will be picked upon and utilised mercilessly by your equally insecure and cruel peers.
So it was with Cecil Smallpiece. That's not his name, But, frankly, it may as well have been. The real one wasn't much better. If you're a parent and your surname suggests that you have small genitals, I strongly advise you to ensure that your children are able to fight from an early age.

This was a mining town in the early 1980's. Don't believe the Billy Elliott-style poor miners with a tin tub in front of the fire image depicted - miners were bloody well paid for a hard job, and when that ended the shock was the harder for it.
Cecils parents weren't hit by this. His dad was a councillor and quite senior in the union, and as the rest of the town slipped into depression, their nest stayed feathered. He was the first person I ever knew to get a computer (A mighty ZX80!) and a video recorder (watching The Empire Strikes Back on someone's TV not in the cinema remains a powerful early memory of mine). Everything he asked for, he got - and his classmates promptly stole or broke. He had the biggest collection of toy soldiers of any child I ever saw. When the Dungeons & Dragons craze was at it's height he had *every* book and figure and game and add on and...you name it.
His parents told him he was talented and gave him lessons in four different muscial instruments. He had a private french tutor.
Everything he wanted or asked for, he got. He got stuff even when he didn't want or ask for it. He was spoiled rotten.

And I think he would have given every bit of it up to be liked. His name was a good starting point, but the obvious material wealth of his family bred resentment and the bullying never stopped. He kept up a facade to his family, but if school is the Serengeti, then he was the antelope who ran too slow.
He never hit back until it was too late, because well-brought up children didn't do that - and when he did his victim status was so well established that it just made things worse.
Years later we found out that his home life wasn't much better - it turned out that his dad had a nasty temper behind closed doors and would hand out beatings without provocation. A lot of the presents were guilt gifts.

Looking back now, I wonder who was spoiled. The kid who had everything? Or me, who didn't get much in the way of presents but who had parents who didn't kick me around? Him, who had private tuition in everything, or me, who had parents who encouraged me to be interested in stuff and learn what I enjoyed doing? Him, who would go home with his brand new games kit covered in mud and scabs after every games lesson and tell his mum how he scored three goals, or me, who wore my brothers old games kit but didn't have to lie about anything to make my parents proud?

Perhaps the reason adults forget how harsh school is is because we want to forget what we were like, and what we did to the "spoiled" kids.
(, Thu 16 Oct 2008, 10:51, 10 replies)
Me Me Me
I always get what I want. I don't have to ask at times as I am so amazing at most things. I have everything and more than most people put together.
(, Thu 16 Oct 2008, 10:46, 36 replies)
History Class for Chickenlady aged 15
I went to a Private Catholic Girls' Convent School.

I managed to get a scholarship to go there as my dad was a policeman and my mum a classroom assistant. My background was squarely blue collar - despite the fact that I very quickly picked up a RP accent.

This of course wasn't the case for many of the girls in my year. We had plenty of overseas students who were the daughters of captains of industry, members of foreign governments and even one or two royal princesses. Even some of the British pupils were from rather rarefied backgrounds too.

Our GCSE history teacher was an Oxbridge graduate and married to the headmaster of another very distinguished public school.

Their daughter was in my class.

Part of our history syllabus was on the establishment of the Welfare State and as our teacher wanted to make this fully accessible to a class of privileged teenage girls she asked if any of us knew of anyone who lived in a Council house.

Some odd looks were exchanged. The girl sitting next to me whispered that her grandmother lived in one, I whispered back that mine did (and still does) too.

A few tentative hands went up.

Then the teacher barked at her daughter,

"Jenny! Put your hand up!"

Jenny shook her head - she couldn't possibly know anyone who lived in a Council house.

"Jenny! Our cleaning lady lives in a Council house!"
(, Thu 16 Oct 2008, 10:44, 2 replies)
Of course we got nothing when we were nippers,
my brothers and I until our various duties around the home were done and even that wasnt lots - no commodore 64's, no BMX's (it was the eighties) and we all had jobs by the time we were 15.

We never got handouts from the folks. We all worked our way through our various forms of third level education; kitchen portering, cleaning, cooking, digging, lifting, scrubbing - basically you name a menial job, one or all of us did it for drinking money.

So was it the making of us?

Depends on your point of view.

We're all alcoholics - the functioning kind - we all hold down mid-level jobs, some of us have families - we're not abusive or criminals although we all see the law as a bendable thing for the most part. We're all more or less happy-go-lucky types.

Nature or nurture folks?
(, Thu 16 Oct 2008, 10:38, 4 replies)
I want a new QOTW!
And I want it NOW!

(or I'll squeem & squeem & squeem until I'm thick!)
(, Thu 16 Oct 2008, 10:35, Reply)
apparently a lot of the girls at my school
were "stuck up."

There seemed to be no connection between their parent's income and whether they were stuck up or not.

But there did seem to be a big connection to
a) whether they were pretty or not.
b) whether the guy describing them as stuck up wore tracksuit pants and lied about his scores on video games.
(, Thu 16 Oct 2008, 8:02, 2 replies)
It's ironic that a weekly topic..
..devoted to mocking whining over-privalidged little twats has turned into...
(, Thu 16 Oct 2008, 7:35, Reply)
And another thing ...
Even the most lovely of children are capable of throwing the most God awful strop within the pressure cooker of public transport.

As we all would, if we were that big, and stuck in a pressurised hurtling tube full of over-stimulation, noise and other people's armpits.


Keep in mind ya'll ... there's always some God awful wee shite pissing everyone off on the bus. And one day, it might be yours.

My only advice to those of you who may be thinking of travelling with toddlers is ... don't.
(, Thu 16 Oct 2008, 7:08, Reply)
Spoilt brats ...
Well those would be mine then.

Two of them. Utter darlings (mostly) at home, total monsters (occasionally) when out and about.

Difference? I can't smack their wee arses when out and about for fear of the child snatchers legally taking them away.

Result? One and a half generations (or six if you live anywhere north of York and south of Edinburgh) of totally uncontrollable wee shites.

Good one Labour.
(, Thu 16 Oct 2008, 7:01, 6 replies)
Off Topic, soz in advance......
But, I am new to this, I know better than to post questions in QOTW when it's for answering questions (hence the apology) but I just want to let you guys know, I asked for some help in explaining this all in the talk board, and I got called a c*u*n*t a lot, won't be going back there again, asked the same question in the main board, were a little more helpful, and a lot nicer, but still got called some rude names, the only nice people seem to be in here.
So I'm very sorry if I'm breaking some rule by asking a question in here rather than the talk board, but does anyone wanna take me under their wing and show me the ropes. Constructive criticism welcome!
(I'll never learn if I don't ask!)
Please be nice to me, I've had enough of being called a c*u*n*t for one evening! I know you lot are luvverly as I've been lurking on QOTW for a while now.....
*sad eyes*

Edit: It's because of my lurking on QOTW that I learnt what the F5 button did, so thanks guys!
(, Wed 15 Oct 2008, 23:52, 25 replies)
having dinner
in chalfont st giles the other night. we lived there when i was very small, and you should hear the cut glass plums in my mouth on family videos. good job we moved back up north innit.

anyway, my friend and i were in a gastropub, when we heard the terribly rah rah tones of the five year old foetus at the table next to us. drawing itself up to its full height of about three feet, it announced, "well mummy, ai think thet avocado is ebsolutely disgasting."

jen and i nearly toppled into the fireplace laughing at the smug little prick.

in less glorious culinary news, i've been fantasising all day about the soup i was going to have for dinner. finally got home from work at about 11, heated it up, dropped a handful of grated cheese in, took a yummy spoonful and.... bleurgh.

1 always check the low fat grated cheese has not been left open by your flatmate;
2 don't eat boiling hot soup in a thin dressing gown. it hurts when you spill it and the stringy hot mouldy cheese on yourself.
3 don't spit mouldy cheesy soup on a glass table. it looks like scat mixed with vomit and it will make you heave when you have to clean it up.
4 finally, pay your virgin bill on time so you have something to watch whilst cleaning up and do not end up boring the collective tits off the internet.

(, Wed 15 Oct 2008, 23:48, 15 replies)
Dont forget:
John McCain could have faced alot of other talented Presidential wannabe's in the election in the primaries. It could have been Hillary Clinton, John Edwards, possibly Al Gore, Barack Obama...

...that party truly were Spoilt 'Crats.

So sorry. sosososo sorry.
(, Wed 15 Oct 2008, 23:43, Reply)
I knew this girl once...
She came from Greece she had a thirst for knowledge. She studied sculpture at Saint Martin's College, that's where I caught her eye.
She told me that her Dad was loaded, I said "In that case I'll have a rum and coca-cola."
She said "Fine"...

(, Wed 15 Oct 2008, 23:41, 5 replies)
How It's Done
My oldest friend, Liz, is the eldest of three kids. Her parents are both doctors - in fact, her dad is a consultant anaesthetist. Their combined income must be something truly foolish, but until we were thirteen they lived in a very modest house (actually fairly crappy) just round the corner from the Mnemonics.
Throughout the kids' childhood they:

- were made to do their homework properly every night
- had a full schedule of household chores to be done, else no playtime
- had to get jobs as soon as they were old enough so they'd have pocket money (paper rounds and car-washing then graduating to the dizzy heights of kitchen portering once they were 14)
- had no expensive clothes or shoes or any of that crap and,
- were generally brought up to be hard-working, respectful, self-reliant people.

And what's the result of this? Ten years on, the eldest two kids are both doctors, having partially worked their way through med school (as much as that's possible when you have practically no holidays) and the youngest kid is having a gap year, which he's spending working as a chef in the local pub. They are some of the nicest, most capable and grounded people that I know, because despite having a lot of money, the parents themselves didn't grow up that way (the dad grew up the eldest of 11 kids in Govan...) and they knew the virtues of hard work and how totally corrosive it can be to have everything at the snap of your fingers.

Anyway, there's no moral here, apart from maybe that spoilt is an attitude, not a bank balance, and if any of you lot are lucky enough to have money and are planning on breeding, these kids are a pretty good template.
(, Wed 15 Oct 2008, 22:58, 3 replies)

This question is now closed.

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