So there's this bloke I know
met him in a pub on a busy night, and he tells me all about his life. So there I sit, listening to this litany of luxury, made even more boring by the fact that he has the charisma of a beetle.

Apparently

- He went to a private school so posh and costly that they had cigarring instead of fagging.

- His fine wine palate means that he can tell what the Frenchman who made his wine had for breakfast.

- He could have easily made a ton of money doing slightly dodgy things in the Eastend, but he wasn't that sort of fella.

- He's got so many shares that he could have stopped the credit crunch, but he was too busy with his mates.

- He knows every bouncer in London and can get gratis access to all the best clubs.

At this point, my vision is going a bit wonky from boredom, and I need to get away from him.

Thing is, he starts to jabber on at such a high rate, a couple of drops of blood start coming out of his nose, but he still doesn't notice, so consumed is he with his monologue, and getting you to hear it. Thankfully, at that point I made my exit, and no-one was left to tolerate his ramblings.

He really was charmless.

Oh yeah, and his mate lives in a very big house in the country.
(LickOutTheJamsMotherfuckers!, Thu 9 Oct 2008, 14:35, 4 replies)

So there's this bloke I kno
Was his name kev! kevin fisher! sounds like him
(Athvi, Thu 9 Oct 2008, 16:04, closed)

I knew
another guy like that, he went a bit mad in the end. He was called Tracy Jacks.
(Hippo_of_Doom, Thu 9 Oct 2008, 16:42, closed)

"Oh yeah, and his mate lives in a very big house in the country."
Broadmoor?
(Scienceman123 raped your virgin eyes on, Fri 10 Oct 2008, 1:54, closed)

Blurton

( Noeli overtheshoulderboulderholderthingstraplatchboobs, Fri 10 Oct 2008, 6:40, closed)