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This is a question Amazing displays of ignorance

Sandettie Light Vessel Automatic tells us: "My dad's friend told us there's no such thing as gravity - it's just the weight of air holding us down". Tell us of times you've been floored by abject stupidity. "Whenever I read the Daily Express" is not a valid answer.

(, Thu 18 Mar 2010, 16:48)
Pages: Latest, 26, 25, 24, 23, 22, 21, ... 1

This question is now closed.

After my job in the electrical retailer, I got my current job in a hospital microbiology lab. Every specimen that comes in will have a form with it, detailing the patient's identity, a diagnosis, and a description of the sample sent. Most are quite straightforward. Some show a worrying lack of intelligence on the part of the doctors and nurses...

Diagnosis: Patient not passing urine.
Specimen: Urine.

Diagnosis: Constipation?
Specimen: Swab of left ankle.

Diagnosis: Rectal bleeding.
Specimen: Nose swab.

Diagnosis: Patient vomiting blood.
Specimen: Penile swab.

Diagnosis: Infertility.
Specimen: Ear swab.

Diagnosis: Diarrhoea.
Specimen: Tongue swab.

And it's not just patients that have trouble with diarrhoea. One form read:
Diagnosis: Patient has diahorhea(crossed out) diaoreah(crossed out) diahorrea(crossed out) diaorhaea(crossed out) the shits.

Giving the results out can be just as problematic:

Me: ...and there's no bacterial growth.
Nurse: Oh... so what antibiotics should we be using?

Me: {after searching for a result on the computer} I'm sorry, we don't appear to have received that specimen.
Nurse: Oh dear. So when do we get the results?

Me: {trying to phone an urgent result} Do you have [this patient] with you?
Nurse: No
Me: Are you sure? Ward 10 said they transferred him to you last night.
Nurse: ....oh *THATS'S* who he is!!
(, Tue 23 Mar 2010, 23:27, 14 replies)
Bernard Manning
My wife and I were watching that "Bernard Manning doing his own eulogy" thing on TV a while ago; both a little bemused at the programme which consisted of Manning staring at the camera while footage of his own funeral was spliced into the background. Odd!

But my wife then piped up..

"So, if Bernard Manning is dead, will they still make those Turkey Burgers?"

(, Tue 23 Mar 2010, 23:04, 1 reply)
My wife has a genuine worry
that NASA may accidentally blow up the moon.

I love that girl x.
(, Tue 23 Mar 2010, 22:40, 2 replies)
captain coffee break's post just reminded me
of another little trick we played on a friend.
or, rather, a friend's rather dumb 15-year-old younger sister.
feeling a little peckish one day, we decided to send chantelle to the chippy. we asked her to get 2 portions of chips, some curry and 2 sausages.
oh, and a carton of pickled foreskins.
she actually went and asked for them.
how the fuck can a 15-year-old not know what a foreskin is?
(, Tue 23 Mar 2010, 22:33, 1 reply)
Health Ranger!
I'm a skeptic. I thought I had a pretty good handle on my own beliefs. Not so, apparently. Luckily, the Health Ranger knows what I think. Linked.

I'm amazed by the depth of my own ignorance sometimes.
(, Tue 23 Mar 2010, 22:31, 3 replies)
Sex education and citrus fruit
An old school friend of mine, let's call him M, is a lovely guy and quite bright but at school he had a knack of asking questions that he really shouldn't have. Unfortunately (for him) he excelled himself in a sex education lesson when we were about 14.

At the start of the lesson the young, hot (well it was an all boys school and we were 14 and easily pleased) teacher, who I shall call Miss S, did the normal spiel of “feel free to ask anything” and “there's no such thing as a stupid question.”

Later on, the lovely Miss S was discussing contraception and was talking about the IUD when someone asked if it hurt when it was put in. Judging by her reply I get the impression that this might have been a bit of a sensitive subject at the time:

“How do you think it would feel to have a satsuma shoved up your arse?”

M stuck his hand up and promptly asked in his very posh voice:

“What's a satsuma?”

It was a few years before he heard the end of that one!
(, Tue 23 Mar 2010, 22:31, 2 replies)
I used to work with a girl
who genuinely believed that the moon was actually the sun...at night.

She was pretty thick, bless her :)
(, Tue 23 Mar 2010, 22:30, 2 replies)
On a visit to the states..
I was sat in my ex's house drinking tea. The first time I had a cup for 2 weeks. His neighbour came over to meet me and all hysterical said "OH MY GAWD are you DRINKING TEA! OH MAAAAAN.. HOW FREAKINGLY BRITISH OF YOU! OH MY GAWD!
It was Utahard after all.
(, Tue 23 Mar 2010, 22:29, Reply)
A six foot WHAT?
I worked at a major electrical retailer many moons ago. 2 doors down at the retail park was a large DIY store.
When a new lad started with us, the manager came out and announced that we were installing a new display. He handed the newbie a £20 note, and told him to nip to the DIY store and ask for a six-foot fallopian tube for the lighting on the display.
To our amusement, of he went.
After about 10 minutes we were beginning to get a little concerned - but he finally returned, looking a bit embarressed.
"What happened?" asked the manager.

"I had a look all round the lighting section, but couldn't find any fallopian tubes. I asked one of the sales lads, but he wasn't sure if they had any. He had a look with me, but couldn't find one, so he asked *his* boss if they'd got any in stock..."

By this point we were all in hysterics...

"...his boss came out to me, and asked if I was new... then he told me to go home and talk to my mum..."

(we're now holding onto the displays, trying not to collapse laughing)

"...I don't get it... what's funny?"
(, Tue 23 Mar 2010, 21:56, 6 replies)
Spinach causes curly hair
When I was a boy, we used to go visit my esteemed grandmother in NW New Mexico. She was of significant vintage and she had raised 18 of her husband's kids, 10 of them her own. She had a dowager's hump and always looked out of one eye.

She was a force to be reckoned with and I can remember her in her 80s grabbing two chickens in each hand, wringing their necks, swiftly followed by the hatchet. Their little flopping white bodies in the New Mexico dirt still is impressionable.

I can remember once sitting in her kitchen, where everything was very spartan and with a smell that was indescribable, though not necessarily bad.

I was sitting at the table and she walked over to me with her dowager's hump and said in a female-Yoda voice, "you know, if you don't eat your spinach, you'll never have curly hair like your dad's."

I was terrified! One, the spinach was the nasty, can stuff that popeye used to eat and which tasted like soilent green mixed with eels, vegemite and algae. Two, the hair styles in those days were the lovely "feathered back" look and I was having enough trouble keeping the locks from coiling up like Medusa's tresses after a perm. Three, like my dad!

Fortune smiled on me when a kind German doctor living in the states proclaimed that I am allergic to spinach. Unfortunately,it was short lived because my hair continued to curl, although now I go with it.

Epilogue: Now I like fresh spinach and eat as much as I can.
(, Tue 23 Mar 2010, 21:25, 2 replies)
sorry... another one I've remembered
'scotland is hotter than the rest of britain because hot air rises'...
(, Tue 23 Mar 2010, 21:18, Reply)
Gorrie is genuinely thick. a sound guy but a brain full of mince.
when Beowulf came out in the cinema he asked "who would want go and see a film about a beetle the size of a wolf?"

when our mate craig was trying to get a job on an oil rig he asked craig "how do you get out to the oil rig"
"by helicopter" craig answered
"so the helicopter drops you at the submarine?"
"what submarine?"
"the submarine to get on the oil rig."
"no the helicopter takes you to the oil rig."
"so does the submarine take you to the helicopter?"
"Gorrie, where the fuck are you gettin this submarine from mate, there is no fuckin submarine ya spastic"
and then came the immortal gorrie line
"here fuckin, just leave me alone, see the ocean and all that pish, i dont have a fuckin scooby awrite?"

the ocean and all that pish.
sadly gorrie got a bird who doesnt let him hang about with us anymore so we are now deprived of such wisdom.
RIP ross gorrie. legend.
(, Tue 23 Mar 2010, 21:17, Reply)
When Paul Anka's 'Having My Baby' was popular
my mother one day burst out with 'that's a DISGUSTING song!' and switched the radio off.

A bit mystified, I asked her why, and she explained.

It seems that the line 'Having my baby' meant 'having intercourse with my girlfriend' while 'I love what's going through me' referred to her enjoyment at being penetrated.

Erm, no, Mother, it's actually about a couple's joy because they're expecting a child together.

I don't think she believed me.
(, Tue 23 Mar 2010, 21:14, 6 replies)
He is from italian heritage and is a plumber, and as mario was already taken as a nick name in our group, Luigi it was.
Luigi is blessed/cursed with an extraordinary level of innocence/daftness.
My brother shares a flat with Luigi and most of these scatter brained gems are relayed via him-
upon discussing world war 2 in front of him "who won the war anyway?"
upon watching a documentary about the human body "see the brain? where exactly is it in the body?" when my brother stared at him blankly he went on to say "right I know its in your head, but is it in your skull? or does it sit on top of your skull?"
upon seeing an advert for The Curious Case of Benjamin Button "is that a true story?"
about half an hour into watching Alien "is this set in the future?"
someone made a joke about injecting booze straight into their veins "I don't think they've invented anything that could do that."

god there is more but I'm feeling shit slagging him unknowingly like this cos he doesnt deserve it. he really would give you his last rolo. god bless his cotton socks.
(, Tue 23 Mar 2010, 21:08, Reply)
My trip to Bath (from the U.S)
In case you don't have the ability to look down, "Warning: this is long" =)

I went to Bath for work a couple times, lovely town – and I thought my parents would like to see it too, so the second time I traveled across the ocean to visit - I brought the parents along with me so they could spend a couple weeks there on my dime.

We did not represent our country well.

I was running on about 2 hours of sleep in the last 72 when it was time to go and expected to get some sleep on the redeye trip over – unfortunately the guy sitting behind my parents and I was, with no exaggeration, the most fucked up spastic I’ve ever seen, who I believe – also had tourettes. He violently kicked both my and my mother’s seat on an irregular basis for almost the entire trip, and I don’t mean he just bumped the seat from time to time, he would haul off and *kick* it. If you were drinking when he did it the liquid landed on the people one row up. Mix in shouted random words and you may wish for only a wailing baby on your next flight.

6 hours of that, he only quieted down when mom started loudly discussing to the air around her the idea of pulling his ass into the aisle and beating the shit out of him until he died.

I think she probably terrified the shit out of this guy, my best guess is he had an emotional age of about 6 and was not able to understand the concept of hyperbole.

I’m not sure mom was exaggerating at that point though so ... whatever works.

We still arrived with no sleep for any of us, I’m slipping in and out of consciousness as I walk around and the level of irrationality, grumpiness, paranoia ... and utter lack of focus... it’s at a respectable level of truly fucked … and we get to Heathrow!

What a joy that fucking place is, let me just say - it's just as yummy delicious as you remember. If you haven’t been there just imagine miles of fuck all mixed evenly with bureaucracy while carrying way too much luggage.

Still I was expecting the walk... the line... the waiting... the carts... the luggage... the last of customs... I was prepared for that.

I was unprepared for the herculean task of getting my two spoiled bratty whining children, uh parents, to Bath from the airport...

Let me set the scene...

--- A few hours before the plane lands: ---

Me: Dad, mom's really tired and worn out and she can't take anything
complicated, lets get a cab when we hit the airport - it'll be expensive but the company will pay for it and it'll be a lot easier. Door to door, 1 hour trip, much easier.

Mom: oh yes, I would like to sleep, do you think we could get a cab where they would allow me to sleep? cause as long as they're willing to let me sleep then I would like to do that.

Me (I’m baffled at the idea of a cabbie who'd force you to stay awake): Yes mom, we'll find a cab which will let you sleep.

Mom: (Mumbles for the rest of the conversation about cabs and sleeping.)

Dad: That sounds like an idea.

Me: Ok, thanks dad.

--- Every Ten minutes from then on Repeat the entire conversation verbatim --

Land... deal with all the Heathrow bullshit... mom steals a free cart along the way and insists on using it despite it being broken. Mom is the only person I know who could steal a free cart and get the broken one.

After much headaches and pain and waiting and lines and walking and luggage and impatience and waiting for slow mom and telling too fast dad to stop sprinting and to wait up ...


Mom: ... Sleep ... we have to find one who will let me sleep I don't want to go on one who won't let me sleep...

Dad: ...you're wasting money it'll be more expensive... we'll just take this bus to the train station transfer over from there and be there in 2-3 hours... it'll be much better...

(are you serious? better?)

Me: Hello mr cabby how much to get to bath?

Cabbie: 280 pounds.

Me: ...

Cabbie: You can negotiate.

Me: Are we going to get anywhere near 100pounds?

Cabbie: No.

Me: ok...

Can we get all our stuff and us in this cab?

Cabbie: No, you’ll need to hire a second one for those bags.

(in retrospect... it would have been cheap at twice the price)

Dad: I'm gonna go talk to the bus terminal woman.

Me: ok.

Mom: I'm going with him!

Me: ok.

Dad&Mom: You watch the bags!

Me: ok.

(they leave... they talk to the woman... they come out...)

(I look at them expectantly. There’s silence with significant looks)

Mom: (sits down, seems to have lost connection with reality)

Me: (looking to dad now… )

Dad: I couldn't hear a word she said. We'll get on Bus 4.

Me: ( ... how did these people reproduce? ...)

Me: hello nice woman at the bus terminal - how do I get to bath in the simplest easiest least painful way?

Bus Lady: Why you sweet boy - do not be unhappy - it is most easy - you herd your children over to there down the hall, you get on the bus to bath and you'll be there in an hour or so - have a joyous day!

Me: Why thank you bus lady person! You are very cool!

Me: Mom, Dad! We can go down the hall there and get on a bus to Bath, lets go!

Mom: (confused and a little upset) Ride a bus, to bath? all the way to bath?

Dad: We'll be taking the bus to Reading.

Me: ???????!?!??

Mom: Can I have candy?

Me: !!?!?!??!!!???

Mom: (walks off to candy machines)

Dad: We'll take the bus to Reading, get out, find the train station, and take a train from Reading to bath.

Mom: The machine won't take my coins!

Me: It's exact change only. But dad, that sounds like a lot of transferring bags and stuff and I

Dad: (walks away)

Me: (I was fucking midsentence there dad! Wtf!)

Mom: (sits down and looks sad, hands me 1 and 2 pound coins) Get me candy?

Me: ... ok mom...

Dad: (mysteriously returns) Getting candy?

Me: No, it's exact change only... (dad is gone already... what the hell?)


Time passes...


We get on the bus to reading.


I sit with mom and dad.

Mom: Whine. Bitch. Moan. Complain.

Dad: Pained Ignoring.

Mom: Sulk.

Dad: Cry for help.

Me: ... (moves to back of bus and hides under my coat)

.. ( I love my coat. )

We arrive at reading. We get our bags out, we go to the train station (very close luckily) ... there's a pasty shop in the train station.

Mom: I want a pasty!

Dad: ok, I'll go get the tickets.

Me: I feel so surreal.

(realizes to be reimbursed for tickets I should use company credit card at handy terminal)

Me: Wait dad - let me get the tickets here, I can use the company card.

Dad: Ok.

Me: (fiddle fiddle) ok, all good - I got the tickets! Dad?

(Dad has wandered off to buy tickets from people despite watching me buy tickets from the terminal...)

Me: Dad! I got em!

Dad: Ok.

(walks back to mom)

Mom: I'm soo unhappy! you all left me and I couldn't get pastys! (Waaahhhh!)

Me&Dad: huh? you're at the pasty shop? wtf?

Mom: but no one was here to watch the bags!!! ( waaaaaahhhhhhhhh! )

I suddenly have that reminiscent feeling of watching I love Lucy.

Dad: I'll watch the bags.

(dad walks off)

Mom: ok. (Mom goes to get pastys)

I am so confused.

I run into the pasty shop, get a drink and a standard small pasty and come back out to find...

Dad is moving all our bags 4 feet to the left.

Me: Whatcha doing?

Dad: Moving the bags.

Me: ok.

I move bags in circles around themselves. I'm still not sure why I did this, it just seemed to make sense at the time. Dad seemed to approve. Then he walked off.

The bags seem to be in their proper positions now. I am satisfied. I’m adjusting the last ones the way I know would make my father proud.

Dad returns.

Dad: Whatcha doing?

Me: (I look up... I have no idea)

We sit.

Mom comes out in a while, with bags and bags and bags of pastys which she hands out to everyone.


We eat pastys for a while.

Mom: Why are the bags moved?

Me&Dad: ...

Mom: (gets up and moves the guide rope for the restaurant seating section near where we're sitting)

Mom: (sits down and stares off into the distance.)

Me: I...

Mom: So where's the train?

Me: (confused)

Dad: (confidently) You just go over there whenever and it's waiting for you. They go in and out of here.

Me: (even in my idiotic state of mind this seems like a stupid thing to say about trains, in a train station.)

Mom: but which one is ours?

It strikes us all at the same time that this is a really good question... we search the station for answers.

We find none.

Dad: (sees a train, strides boldly and points) That's it there! We have to hurry - it's about to leave!

We stumble towards it dragging a trail of bags and pastys in blind reaction to leadership.

Along the way I actually try repeatedly to use my ticket on a cement post because it vaguely resembles a subway turnstile. I think its a metro gate. It's not. Dad pulls me through saving me from an eternity of trying to win a real life game of rock paper me.

We arrive at the train. But wait... look... there's other trains here too...

Reason snickers at us from the back of all our heads at once.

Confused circling of baggage ensues. We make little figure eights thinking hard with our heads down, yet we don't run into each other. In retrospect it reminds me of cats and legs. With about as much purpose.

Mom has a brilliant insight!

Mom: Look! the sign by that Train says 1001 - and our tickets say 0937 - we just have to find the train that says 0937!

Me: um mom

Mom: FIND TRAIN 0937!!!

Me: mom

Dad walks off

Me: Mom... that's the time I bought the ticket. the ticket says 0937 cause I bought it 20 minutes ago, the board says it's 1001 cause... it's 10:01 now...

Mom: ...

Mom: I don't think so. Find the train.

Dad: (wanders back) There's a guy over there lets ask him.

Me: (seeing guy in neon yellow work jacket who’s obviously a train station employee) Excuse me! Guy! pardon me!


I am not shitting you. He booked it. I don't know why.

Unless, maybe, he'd been watching us for a bit and valued his sanity.

Me: Guuyyyyyy!!!

Guy comes back. Guy shows no evidence of being aware of me whatever I do.

Me: Excuse me!

Me: Hey!

Me: Excuse me, pardon me, excuse me, hey you, guy, hey, excuse me, mister, hey,


Guy: huh?

Me: Is this the train to Bath?

Guy: (nods)

.. we board, ignoring the guy hence forth ... fuck him

We find seats...

Mom: do they have any seats facing the other way? I can’t sit facing the wrong way.

Me: (looks around... at all the seats ... yes they do... weird thing to ask...) You can sit anyway you want mom, it’s ok.

Mom: (sits next to me facing "wrong" way) You know if we took a cab it would have been easier.


Me to mom: I'd like to put my bag up above instead of holding it in my lap.

Mom: Ok (nearly crying as she takes this rejection of her as a sign she should move many rows away. She sits facing "wrong" way again)

Me: ... whatever

Hmm... skip rest of train trip....


Mom: No one carries my bag!!!

Dad: I just carried it down a flight of stairs and out of the train station.

Mom: But... you've barely carried it at all!

Me: He has his own bag mom, we all have our own bags, and yours has wheels.

Mom: But a gentleman should carry a lady's bag.

Me: If I see a lady I'll remember that.

Mom: ...that's just cold.

Me in my head: (Shut the fuck up! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! JESUS CHRIST! SHUUTTTTTT UPPPPPPP!!! GOD DAMN IT YOU STUPID SHIT FUCKER DIE DIE DIE £^$& £^$& %^%$&** &$&$%^"£$%"£"*%&"$%^* ^ )

Me out loud: Come on mom, we're all worn out - we're almost to the hotel - lets just get there and get some sleep, we’ll crash for a bit it’ll be great…

Dad: (has gone scarily silent every since the gentleman crack... as a side note, my father used to kill people for a living.)

Mom the martyr: you all just go on with out me... I'll catch up eventually...



So we arrive at the hotel... Menzies... lovely place.

Hi, we're the Allisades! We have a early check in arranged.

Evil Counter Bitch: We don't have any rooms for you.

Me: Really? (blink blink blink) (I'm not sure what surprised me more - that this has fallen through, or that I didn't see it coming.)

Evil Counter Bitch: Yes we sold all our rooms last night and you didn’t expect us not to sell a room just so you could get in early did you?

Me: Well... I called twice to arrange this specifically and you promised us the early check in ... so... yeah...

Evil Counter Bitch: I'm sure no one promised you it.

Me: No, we offered to pay for an extra night of stay to guarantee it and the lady on the phone said that wasn't necessary, that we could just check in early...

Evil Counter Bitch: But they didn't guarantee it did they? (voice is saying: you're an idiot to think anyone would)

Mom (babbling): We really did offer to pay and she said we could and we didn't have to and ...

Evil Counter Bitch (voice raising): Well we're not going to kick out our paying customers so you can have a room!

Mom: We're not expecting you to kick anyone out!

Me: But you shouldn't have promised us early check in.

Evil Counter Bitch: You can't…

Me: Fuck it. You don't have rooms? ok. That's the way it is. Let us know when you do. (Herds mom away...)


Me: yeah mom, just the way it is - lets go do some email...



I ditched my parents in one email place and then went to another and wrote this up to my friend as a cathartic release.

Dad came in a while ago (I respect his ability to track me down in a city when I've run off... I mean admittedly ... head for the computers, big surprise... but still)

Dad: How you doing?

Me: I'm ok – writing my friend - he's heading off to boot camp so it's one of my last chances. I’m telling him about the trip…

Dad: I took your mom back to the hotel.

Me: she getting some sleep?

Dad: Actually she flayed the desk girl alive.

Me: Yeah?

Dad: Yeah. Tore her a new asshole, then used that to rip her skin off from there. (there’s a bit of awe in his voice.)

Me: Cool.

Dad: She's sleeping now.

Me: I hope it helps.

Dad: Yeah, I'm gonna take a walk - tell your friend hi from us - wish him luck.

Me: ok dad, love you.

Dad: love you too.


Floored by abject stupidity? I was raised by it... but I wouldn't change them for the world.
(, Tue 23 Mar 2010, 20:31, 13 replies)
Where do atoms come from?
So asked a pupil in my neice's science class.

"The Angel Gabriel made them" was the illuminating reply from the science teacher.

Science. Teacher.

Hooray for faith schools! More please, in the 21st Century...
(, Tue 23 Mar 2010, 20:28, 3 replies)
On a train
Overheard the following conversation.

Ned 1: Is this train coming from the east?
Ned 2: No, it's coming from Devon.
Ned 1: But Devon's in the East.
Ned 2: Nah, Devon's next to London.
Ned 1: But London's in the East, aint it?
Ned 2: Nah, London's in the West.
Ned 1: But East 17 come from London, so London must be in the East.

We ended up in Newcastle.
(, Tue 23 Mar 2010, 20:27, Reply)
In Disneyworld
We were there about 21 years ago, before my first kid was even conceived, and were doing the usual rides. One of them was the riverboat ride, in which the guide was supposed to point out various plants and animals visible from the boat. (The guide we had was utterly useless, tossing off rehearsed smart-ass lines such as "That kind of flower is called Fred", but that's something else altogether.)

We got on the boat and waited for the rest of the people to board, a process that took a few minutes typically. Immediately following us on was a woman with her eight year old daughter, who was behaving like the ultimate spoiled brat- stomping around (she didn't want to do this stupid ride), jumping on the seats, and generally being the most obnoxious bit of crotch-trash in existence.

Finally Brat-ney stood on a seat on the opposite side of the boat and yelled "MOM! IS THIS BOAT MOVING?"

"No dear."


I burst out laughing at the kid, and the mother turned crimson as she dragged the little shit to shore.

Talk about a walking, talking argument for late-term abortion, preferably about eight years after the fact...
(, Tue 23 Mar 2010, 20:08, Reply)
Texting Teen.
It was a Saturday morning. I was in the grocery store getting the items on my shopping list. As usual, I went through the store aisle, by aisle. At each aisle I kept meeting up with the same mother and daughter. The mother was pushing the shopping cart, the daughter was walking slightly ahead of her, texting. Consequently, the two of them blocked the aisle, so at each aisle I had to wait and let them pass. After about three aisle worth of these two, I was getting a bit annoyed. But what came out of the daughter's mouth,as she passed me for the final time,was worth the wait. As she texted, the daughter asked her mum, out loud so everyone could hear, "mum, how do you spell stupid?" Priceless!
(, Tue 23 Mar 2010, 19:45, Reply)
This one from a friend
She was working in a holiday cottage right out in the country
A couple were booking themselves in for the weekend, they were making chit chat about how nice it was to be away from town noise and just to able to hear the birds
She remarked that they did get some noise from the rookery just across the lane
Apparently his face fell
Oh I wouldnt have booked here if I'd known there was a factory so close says he

aw bless
(, Tue 23 Mar 2010, 19:23, Reply)
I hold a weekly movie night gathering of friends, some of which are daft.

There's one in particular who loves to scream out when she's figured out a trick or secret or spoiler for movies - not only is this inconsiderate as fuck (which she is, not maliciously she just can't think of anyone but herself), she also looks around for confirmation of her brilliance in detective work and congratulations from all when she does it.

This would be annoying enough on it's own, I mean having every single movie you watch with someone spoiled is, well, it spoils things. But the part that drives me especially crazy is, she'll do this and seek approval for it - even when she's seen the movie before.

"Like, look what I figured out!!!" ... from watching it before.

It's a horrible combination - imagine watching Star Wars for the first time, and half way through she'll scream out "oh! He's his father!" or "Oh! That's his sister!" or "Oh! R2 has his saber!" and look around for a pat on the head like she's done *good*...

We've explained to her time and again that it's not appreciated nor a -nice- thing to do, but she's apparently physically unable to be considerate of others =/

Oh, he's kaiser soze!
Oh, he's dead!
Oh, it's his sled!
Oh, that's her son!
Oh, he's on the earth!
Oh, he's in the bank!
Oh, she's going to die!
Oh, they're just pretending!

Oh Oh Oh!

Shut. The. Fuck. Up.

And you're not brilliant for "figuring stuff out" THE SECOND TIME AROUND.

That's called REMEMBERING.


This was apparently more so I could vent than for you all's entertainment, Sorry - and thanks. I feel a little better =)
(, Tue 23 Mar 2010, 19:12, Reply)
Baw-bag's story reminds me...
A friend of mine was going to a "Pimps and Ho's" themed drinkathon one time in Edinbugger, fully clothed in his pimp-suit and hat. That hat, may i add, was made of a leopard-print patterned material. It was big, it was garish, it was unmistakeably 'pimp'.

So, anyways, walking down a shoddy street in central Edinbugger he comes across a group of neds. Now, being a sensible lad, he crosses to the other side of the road.

He walks on.

The head-ned, the leader of the pack, the joker, shouts after him...

"... haw, check you and yer leopard-print hat..."

... the semi-literate cro-magnon's collective breath is inhaled, waiting for the punchline...

"... maks ye look like a fuckin' zebra!"

And they guffaw.

And my mate's face screws up as he tries not to laugh. He's trying not to laugh so fucking hard, for fear of being beaten up for being a smartass.

He regales this story to me, i regale it to you. This is the way of things.
(, Tue 23 Mar 2010, 18:47, 2 replies)
Ann Coulter
Anyone who follows the oddities of American politics is probably already familiar with her, but for those of you who aren't, she's a rabid anti-liberalism hatemonger who makes Rush Limbaugh look moderate.

One of my favorite Coulter-isms was the time she declared that Bill Clinton is actually a closeted gay. Sadly she wasn't joking.

Here is the response: www.youtube.com/watch?v=O7NcfDOL71o

She's endlessly entertaining in a special-ed sort of way.
(, Tue 23 Mar 2010, 18:41, 3 replies)
That annoying swift cover iggy pop advert was on tv..
My partner at the time, dead seriously, looks at me, then the tv, and says "Is that Kurt Cobain?"
(, Tue 23 Mar 2010, 18:36, Reply)
At primary school
the headmistress had some peculiar beliefs. She would tell the boys that they should not let their fringe grow past the eyebrows as having long hair in your eyes can give you a squint.

She also once said that rusting is caused by tiny mites rather than the process of oxidation.
(, Tue 23 Mar 2010, 18:24, Reply)
more a complete lack of common sense than ignorance, but hey ho!
I used to share a flat with some slovenly ex schoolfriends. The most disgusting them would just pour his left over food straight down the kitchen sink, somehow believing it to be a magical waste disposal unit like what he had 'seen on the american tele'. Eventually the pipe became blocked with assorted crap and we insisted he try to unblock it. He unscrewed the pipe from beneath the sink and discovered that it was full of rice and fried onion. He must have thought to himself 'boiling water will shift that!!' and pours an entire kettle of the stuff through it, whilst holding it over the sink with some old bbq tongs. whilst barefoot.
To be fair to the nurse that treated his feet for burns, she didn't take the piss out of him at all.
(, Tue 23 Mar 2010, 18:02, Reply)
Walking past some neds (chavs) earlier
I heard them discussing someone who had eaten a raw potato. Nothing amazing in that really, but it seemes to have them dumfounded.

"What, he peeled all the tatties?"
"Aye, then he ate wan!"
"What, ate a raw tattie?"
"Aye, man, it was well funny man!"
"Yuch, that gives ye worms, man!"

I had to stagger away from them holding in both fits of laughter and utter contempt.
(, Tue 23 Mar 2010, 18:02, 1 reply)
at uni, during an impassioned speech against animal experiments, the subject of frog dissection was raised.
Voice from the floor: "Surely frogs aren't animals?"
Speaker: "OMG WTF?"
Voice: "Are they not reptiles or something?"

I have also seen a man who went on to be appointed a QC baffled for days by the question, "What was the name of the ship in Mutiny On The Bounty?"
(, Tue 23 Mar 2010, 17:58, Reply)
nothing like some of the stuff i've read this week so far, but anyway:
Mate: Where were you born?
Me: Penrith
Mate: Fucking Welsh bastard
Me: ??


Ex/ex/ex/ex... ish, on holiday in Teneriffe with a noisy fridge in the room.

Ex: What are you doing?
Me: Turning the fridge of cause it's doing my head in.
Ex: Well make sure you turn it back on in the morning so it can warm up.
Me: ??
(last one possibly a pearoast under my last username)
(, Tue 23 Mar 2010, 17:56, 1 reply)
My Dad...
...once sent me to the newsagents to buy `tomorrow's Sun' so I duly obliged and went and asked for one. Much to the shopkeepers amusement. I was about 9 at the time.
(, Tue 23 Mar 2010, 17:22, 4 replies)

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