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)
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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Nathan Barley
Good ol' Brooker and Morris.
thegestalt.org/simon/cunt/
Gems such as:
"Worthless upper-middle-class cuntsack Nathan Barley visits the cinema with his friends Susie and Emma to engage in loud, flirtatious banter throughout the film and intermittently scuff the back of your seat with his overpriced trainers.
Are you a loudmouthed little cocksucker with a posh accent who thinks he's some kind of sharp media commentator just because he's sitting in a fucking cinema? Do you and your odious companions consider yourselves faintly superior to everyone else in the building? Can you be heard noisily trading unfunny observations about the film with such relentless frequency that the person in front starts to fantasise about leaping from their seat to knock your fucking head against the wall until it shatters like an egg full of wolf guts? Do you deserve to be kicked about like a rag fucking doll, all the way down the concrete steps of the fire exit and into the alleyway outside, then left to bleed your last into a puddle of lukewarm dog piss? The Kilroy team would like to speak to you: call now on 002 7656 7018."
or
"Nathan Barley stands chatting to a group of giggly female record industry wannabes on an incredibly crowded stretch of pavement outside a famous Clerkenwell bar, wearing a green t-shirt with the number '1972' inexplicably embroidered on it in golden yellow fabric, when his mood is dampened by the arrival of a strikingly attractive up-and-coming dreadlocked musician sporting exactly the same item of clothing."
or
"Nathan Barley strides down Oxford Street in an All Your Base Are Belong To Us t-shirt, sucking his cheeks in and nonchalantly puffing his chest out, a bit like a peacock might if it turned into a human and had its brain replaced with a big ball of shit."
( , Thu 9 Oct 2008, 17:25, 3 replies)
Good ol' Brooker and Morris.
thegestalt.org/simon/cunt/
Gems such as:
"Worthless upper-middle-class cuntsack Nathan Barley visits the cinema with his friends Susie and Emma to engage in loud, flirtatious banter throughout the film and intermittently scuff the back of your seat with his overpriced trainers.
Are you a loudmouthed little cocksucker with a posh accent who thinks he's some kind of sharp media commentator just because he's sitting in a fucking cinema? Do you and your odious companions consider yourselves faintly superior to everyone else in the building? Can you be heard noisily trading unfunny observations about the film with such relentless frequency that the person in front starts to fantasise about leaping from their seat to knock your fucking head against the wall until it shatters like an egg full of wolf guts? Do you deserve to be kicked about like a rag fucking doll, all the way down the concrete steps of the fire exit and into the alleyway outside, then left to bleed your last into a puddle of lukewarm dog piss? The Kilroy team would like to speak to you: call now on 002 7656 7018."
or
"Nathan Barley stands chatting to a group of giggly female record industry wannabes on an incredibly crowded stretch of pavement outside a famous Clerkenwell bar, wearing a green t-shirt with the number '1972' inexplicably embroidered on it in golden yellow fabric, when his mood is dampened by the arrival of a strikingly attractive up-and-coming dreadlocked musician sporting exactly the same item of clothing."
or
"Nathan Barley strides down Oxford Street in an All Your Base Are Belong To Us t-shirt, sucking his cheeks in and nonchalantly puffing his chest out, a bit like a peacock might if it turned into a human and had its brain replaced with a big ball of shit."
( , Thu 9 Oct 2008, 17:25, 3 replies)
TV Go Home
is ace and I thank you for reminding me of it.
"9.55 Snap Hands, Here Comes Money
Gameshow in which contestants have both their wrists broken across a bouncer's knee, then stand inside a plastic dome filled with banknotes, grabbing as much money as they can."
( , Thu 9 Oct 2008, 17:40, closed)
is ace and I thank you for reminding me of it.
"9.55 Snap Hands, Here Comes Money
Gameshow in which contestants have both their wrists broken across a bouncer's knee, then stand inside a plastic dome filled with banknotes, grabbing as much money as they can."
( , Thu 9 Oct 2008, 17:40, closed)
book
I got the TV Go Home book a few years ago. Every 6 months or so, I dig it out and read it in bed, pissing my wife off as I'm trembling trying not to laugh.
( , Thu 9 Oct 2008, 17:43, closed)
I got the TV Go Home book a few years ago. Every 6 months or so, I dig it out and read it in bed, pissing my wife off as I'm trembling trying not to laugh.
( , Thu 9 Oct 2008, 17:43, closed)
...
*makes joke about demanding the book in a spoilt and child-like fashion*
/unoriginal
( , Thu 9 Oct 2008, 18:00, closed)
*makes joke about demanding the book in a spoilt and child-like fashion*
/unoriginal
( , Thu 9 Oct 2008, 18:00, closed)
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