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This is a question Tactless

As grandmasterfluffles puts it, "My ex once told me, "That's the best sex I've ever had... Well, apart from with my cousin..."
What's the most tactless thing you've heard? And was it you saying it?

(, Thu 3 Nov 2011, 22:40)
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University degree
I was always a bit of a studious kid in school - doing well in exams, reading a lot, getting picked last for the gealic team - you know the sort, right? This of course all went to shit once I hit university.

Over the course of 4 debaucherous years and after putting in minimal effort (but making it look all the while as though I'd been studying very diligently) I was able to scrape a 2:1 in university.

Very chuffed with myself I went home and told the folks my result. My mum frowned in consternation; "Is that like, a 'B'"?
(, Thu 10 Nov 2011, 4:59, Reply)
Just remembered
Many many years ago when suddenly admitted to hospital very late at night, my flatmate asked me what she should bring in for me the following morning.
Amongst the usually needed things I asked if she could pick up a book for me as i wasnt sure how long I would be in, and this was in the days long before you could pay for TV and internet.
The book she brought in?
'Coma'
(, Thu 10 Nov 2011, 0:12, 8 replies)
Almost nobody died in this one
Mrs Riffjedibaby.

Coming up to a pedestrian crossing near where we used to live, she pressed the button, traffic lights went red straight away, the looks we got from the firemen speeding through with their flashy lights & blary sirens were just ones of sheer utter contempt.

Our second-youngest is very clever except whe it comes to ring-pull tins. His efforts have earned him the strictly family-only nickname of 'spastic-boy' (after a particularly gruelling tin-opening episode whilst Ian Dury's Spasticus Autisticus was playing in the kitchen).

Whilst he was trying to get a tin of sweets open in a supermarket carpark, on a hot day this summer, with all the windows open in the car, as we were passing the bit of the supermarket carpark where blue-badge holders have reserved places, at the very moment that the boy in the wheelchair was getting his rig onto the ramp at the back of his adapted vehicle...

Then there was the local garage, we used to go for petrol regularly, a couple of really friendly Asian lads worked there, one day Mrs Riffjedibaby and me were in there & she wanted to buy some tobacco. She asked for a small pouch of the stuff, they tried to tell her it was cheaper to buy a special offer with two smaller packets, which she wasn't having and as we left there for the last time ever, she clearly stated in quite a loud voice "I fucking hate those little pakis". She still claims she meant to say 'packets'.

Same pedestrian crossing, as she's reminiscing with someone about the fire-engine incident, she presess the button, the lights go red, this time it's a funeral cortege creeping towards the same crossing then it actually pulled to a stop on the otherwise empty road. The shitty looks we got from the bereaved relatives and undertakers made the firemen look like they were madly laughing with gay abandon.

If I ever had any doubt about marrying her then the above four examples reassure me that she's the one for me.
(, Thu 10 Nov 2011, 0:09, 3 replies)
I'm sorry about another 'someone died' post but- well, it's the only relevant item pertaining to this QOTW.
Back when I worked in the atomic clocks company I was one of the builders and Chris and Noel (altered to protect those who aren't on this web forum) were the testers. Our 'thing' was that we'd always call each other Dad- stemming from an incident where Chris was approached by Noel who asked of the machine on test "What's wrong with it son?" to which Chris got into the improv act character instantly and replied in a teeny pathetic voice "It's broken dad. Can we fix it?". Noel replied consolingly "Yes son. We'll fix it".

So now, Chris was Dad ("Allright Dad?"), Noel was Dad ("I'm allright thanks Dad") and I was also Dad ("Have you bought this for me, Dad?").

Everyone was Dad. No worries.

One day Chris wasn't in. A couple more days and he wasn't in, the work was piling up and Noel wanted to find out from management where Chris was.

He was Off. Compassionate leave. His rather-too-young father at the age of maybe 53 had suffered a sudden illness- maybe heart attack, I didn't get all the information- which caused him to literally drop dead overnight. But not in bed peacefully, in one of the rooms in the house.

Chris found him stone dead in the morning and after some attempts at rousing his old man, realised he was dead and had to tell his mum of his grim discovery- talk about 'making a man out of you that day'. A sad and no doubt traumatic experience. As these things go, you kind of dread them coming back to work as you don't want to say anything that might remind them.

For about three days after he returned, post-funeral, we walked on eggshells and successfully made it 'just work, no joshing, no ribald remarks, just respectful continuation of business'.

On day 4 when I felt he was relaxing a little we started making the first steps back to normality as it was, maybe having a bit of a laugh here, a smidge of a joke there and smiling again. So naturally getting off-guard I said "Here's the latest, Dad..." on bringing in the latest clock for test.

Echo....tick-tock-tick-tock....oh shiiiii.... I said Dad and his Dad is just dead...... did he notice? erm....oooh...I feel bad...shit....

"Allright Dad!" he said in a businesslike way and bent his head down to do the preliminary inspection, business as usual.

To this day I don't know if he was faking nonchalance to spare MY feelings about foot-in-mouth syndrome or he really didn't notice.
(, Wed 9 Nov 2011, 22:53, 4 replies)
Nicknames
No-one ever tells you when you start a new job which nicknames you can use to a colleagues face and which ones people are just known by.

This led to a newbie walking into the office asking to speak to Mr Vac-head.
He took it quite well considering.
(, Wed 9 Nov 2011, 22:07, 8 replies)
I surely DIDN'T shag YOUR mum
Short but sweet: many moons ago, charging round the sixth form centre, happily getting in everyone's face and telling them 'I shagged your mum', 'and I shagged YOUR mum', 'and YOURS', 'and...' you get the drift. I was a pleasant young man in those days. Anyway, the last girl whom I informed of my matricial carnal union didn't take it too well, as her mum had recently died from cancer.
What's doubly random is that we ended up going out for almost two years.
What's TREBLY random is that my wife's mother had also died before I met her. (Cue Twilight Zone theme...)
(, Wed 9 Nov 2011, 18:39, 9 replies)
I shagged your mum!
About a year or so ago, I was stuck in a training session at work. You've probably all been there at some point - stuck in a cramped room with a bunch of people you only vaguely tolerate, doing something so boring you feel you might actually die from it.

Anyway, while waiting for the instructor to arrive one day, we were all bantering amongst ourselves. Somehow, the posturing turned to me implying that I had relations with a colleague's mother.

This colleague, whom we'll call "Mike", attempted an unusual retort, instead of the usual and more common "Fuck Off!", he said "Stay away from my mum, she owns a shotgun".

Intrigued at this revelation, I decided to play into it with "Oh I know, I found it in the Wardrobe when I hid there that time your dad came home early".

It wasn't that clever or funny a retort, but I was clearly pushing Mike's buttons and felt like pushing them a bit further. Mike's face dropped. He stared at me intensely for a second, I thought he might even try to hit me, however instead he simply said "...my Dad's dead".

Now, anyone with a bit of sense would have realised that they'd hit a nerve. Perhaps the joke, that wasn't even that funny in the first place, had gone too far. What a shame I don't have any sense.

"He's dead?! Well then who the hell was that?!"

The rest of the day was met with silence from Mike.
(, Wed 9 Nov 2011, 18:33, Reply)
Me: How's everything going?
Him: (in doleful voice) Oh...OK.
Me: (imitating that doleful voice) Oh, I've got cancer.
Him: Well I went to the doctor about my shortness of breath, and it might be terminal.
Me: ...

Luckily he was OK in the end.
(, Wed 9 Nov 2011, 18:20, Reply)
Try it before you share
Repooc's post reminded me.

Many moons ago, I was working in admin for a fair sized company and shared an office with a few other first-job teenagers.

As this was before youtool or facepunch, many jokes videos pics and links were passed around via our work email. One of the few memorable ones was a 'quiz' of the girls magazine type which was to make your lord of the rings character name or some such guff. It was fw'd around by Jill, the young stereotypical blonde.

The link was actually a cunning trick which asked several inane questions but only picking up the name and maybe gender. Clicking on submit would make your full screen flash magenta/cyan with large yellow text stating
PERSON LOVES BIG HARD COCK UP HIS/HER ARSE while disabling all mouse and keyboard functions except, I gladly found, ctrlaltdelete.

I don't know who was most beetroot, Jill or Stephen (the most severe 18 year old closet case ever)...
(, Wed 9 Nov 2011, 18:03, 1 reply)
My boss is pretty laid back.
She's one of those who has a laugh and a joke and a round of FIFA 12 if the chance presents itself. She's even been known to rock out with her cockerel out on Guitar Hero.
Because she's so... well, normal... I decided to tell her a joke.
"What did the Scottish epileptic get for Christmas?"
She doesn't look up from her monitor. "My dad's epileptic."
Shit thinks I. How can I save this?
"Is he? I didn't know that."
"Yeah, it's quite serious. He's nearly died a couple of times. I found him once, he'd stopped breathing. Had to call an ambulance."
"Really? I'm sorry, that sounds horrible."
"Yeah, he's getting worse too. The meds don't seem to be as effective as they used to be."
I look at the floor. I frown. I look up. I stop frowning and raise my eyebrows. I frown and look at the floor again.
"My mum's dealing with it as best she can but she's convinced she'll come home one day and find him dead on the floor. We don't really talk about it."
I stop looking at the floor and try to arrange my face into an expression of absent-minded innocence.

...

"It was a Wii Fit, by the way."
(, Wed 9 Nov 2011, 17:18, 4 replies)
No Recall.

I used to work for a company that used a mainframe based email system, with a feature where you could send a mail and then recall it, if you changed your mind, without the recipient ever knowing it had been there. You can see where this going right?

Therefore when incensed by someone else in the office you could (especially if working nights) vent your spleen and then recall it once you'd calmed down. Someone I worked with recieved a mail from a manager, a lady who looked like a weebl and was going through a divorce. The colleague in question took offence to her mail (long story) and in a blinding rage sent a response covering topics, such as why her husband left her, her size, her hair, her personal hygeine (having a mimsy that rat wouldn't choose to live in, was a phrase that sticks out), something about her having a fondness for rough sex with sailors and few other items and sent it whilst on a night shift at 2am, safe in the knowledge that said manager was at home asleep in bed, and he had plenty of time to recall it.

This mail was sent almost exactly 30 seconds before the system was taken down for routine maintenance, by the time it came back up said manager was in the office and at her desk. She did not enjoy the aforementioned email, that he was unable to recall before she read it, he also didn't enjoy being fired....
(, Wed 9 Nov 2011, 15:40, 17 replies)
I got pissed at a work do and let the office fatty feel me up.
He wouldn't leave me alone so I told him I didn't want a relationship with anyone.

Silly me forgot though didn't I? You should have seen the tears in his eyes when I started talking about the handsome young fella I was flirting with recently.
(, Wed 9 Nov 2011, 14:51, 19 replies)
Lying in bed, letting the sweat cool
she told me of how her daughter was moving to a new apartment now that the baby had arrived.

I thought about this for a second, then burst out laughing. "What?" she demanded.

"I've just had granny sex!"

Let us draw the curtain of charity over the rest of the scene.

She's actually younger than I am, but had her daughter at an early age, and her daughter was 20 when she gave birth. But still...
(, Wed 9 Nov 2011, 14:49, 3 replies)
My ex
I still work with a girl I had a brief fling with, which she ended last month as she wasn't over her ex and couldn't handle a relationship. Fair enough, we cab still be friends.

Imagine my feeling when sat next to her at lunch this week she has a discussion with her friend about some guy she's flirting with.
(, Wed 9 Nov 2011, 14:32, 24 replies)
Noel Edmonds is the King of being tactless
He let slip this gem on primetime National TV (apologies for not being able to find a better quality clip)
www.youtube.com/watch?v=xWru9GQCN8k
(, Wed 9 Nov 2011, 14:18, 7 replies)
Don't Mention Ze Var!
Mrs Vagabond and I were on a tour of Death Valley this year, and the driver was a lovely chap, who learned everyone on the minibus's name immediately, and engaged them in conversation a little before starting the tour.

There was us ("Newly-weds, eh? You'll soon regret THAT, Mrs Vagabond! hahahaha"), a couple of our friends ("What do you hang about with THESE two for, eh? Hahahahaha"), three people from Southampton ("I've heard it's lovely ... if you like fighting and ugly girls! Hahahahaha"), and two lads from Munich ("Es ist warm hier, eh? Hahahahaha").

I was up at the front, and as he chattered away, he somehow got onto the British rail network.

"What do you think about your trains, Vagabond? You like them? Would you change them?" he asked, friendlywise.

"Well" I said, "I just wish we had a new system like the French got after the Germans flattened theirs." I said, to a collective intake of breath, and my regretting ever having tried to have an opinion, let alone be funny with it, or, indeed, anything I've ever, ever done, including be born.

"Erm ... yeah. I try to keep politics out the van if you don't mind ..." he said, moving swiftly back to the tour information.
(, Wed 9 Nov 2011, 14:09, Reply)
A friend of mine
who is a building official oversees a bunch of building inspectors. He tells many stories of barely literate contractors who try to cut corners on construction and then squall when they're called on it. (Building codes exist for a reason- mainly so the thing won't collapse on someone in the first wind storm.)

One of his inspectors got a call from an irate contractor who he had just failed, and the contractor was so bumble lipped that the inspector could barely understand him. After about thirty seconds of listening to the guy babble, the inspector said, "Call me back when you get the cock out of your mouth" and hung up the phone.

He was the hero of the office for the week.
(, Wed 9 Nov 2011, 13:00, Reply)
Back in my sales office days...
I had to stand in for the delivery driver for a week while he was on holiday. One of our customers employed a girl called Lisa, who I used to speak to regularly on the phone. Our driver called her Fat Lisa and regaled us with stories of her gigantic fatosity every time he had to deliver an order to her.

So, while he was off I had to take some stuff there. I walked into the office, to see 5 or 6 desks, all populated by ladies of various ages and sizes. Quickly scanning, I pointed to the fattest one and said "You must be Lisa!"

She was indeed - luckily I stopped myself from saying "Shaun told me how to spot you" or similar, but I wondered for a long time if she realised why I knew it was her
(, Wed 9 Nov 2011, 12:13, 20 replies)

These are comments made between myself
and a girl at work called Elaine.

"are you sure it the chair thats comfortable Elaine and not your arse ?"

"ok Elaine youve pushed me to it.... the reason i didnt offer you a piece of cake is because of all the hard work you have put into losing weight
....if you want to be fat again take some cake."

Both comments are probably more mean than they are tactless but sometimes
i find its better to say what you mean regardless of the consequence.
(, Wed 9 Nov 2011, 12:00, 1 reply)
The epitome of tactlessness...
...would be attributed to the friend who bought me a DVD copy of Logan's Run for my thirtieth birthday a while back.

Bastard.
(, Wed 9 Nov 2011, 11:26, 18 replies)
At my Great Aunt's funeral wake...
My Dad tends to talk far to much to fill in bits of silence.

My Great Uncle, having just lost his wife of 60 odd years, announced he was going back to the house. My dad who obviously considered this a bit early to disappear from a party tried to lighten the situation by taking the mickey out of him.

"So, Cyril" he says, "You're going to disappear on us in a puff of smoke?"

He was so oblivious to his faux pas, he didn't even notice the horrified looks from my Grandparents and my Mum, and my Brother and I smirking at each other.

Yes, my Great Aunt had been cremated.
(, Wed 9 Nov 2011, 11:23, Reply)
Just the other day
I was watching Strictly Come Dancing with the missus. For those of you not au fait with the minutiae of this colossus of Saturday night entertainment, Alesha Dixon is one of the judges and she's a complete fucking idiot. As a Ballroom enthusiast myself I spend far too long shouting at the telly, advising her in no uncertain terms why her opinion is wrong.

Anyway, this one evening I've gone beyond the point of shouty frustration and comment, as an aside, that perhaps we should find a glue factory that's run short of horses for La Dixon.

I made this comment to my girlfriend.

My VEGETARIAN girlfriend.
(, Wed 9 Nov 2011, 11:16, 9 replies)
Just asked an American friend
if she'll be having a minute's silence today for the victims of 9/11. She wasn't impressed.
(, Wed 9 Nov 2011, 10:29, 8 replies)
I am the queen of tactless
I used to be worse, but a friend took me aside in highschool and specifically spelled it out to me and I've been working on it ever since. It doesn't come easily to some of us, it really doesn't.

Most of these stories seem to be about small children - we don't come with tact preinstalled and have to learn it, so that's not really surprising - but the best stories are about adults who still haven't learnt.

I put my foot in my mouth so often I wonder why I bother taking it out, but I usually get away with it because once people know me they know I'm the tactless wonder.

However, the painful stories that stick in my mind are from when I've just met new people. Generally, new work colleagues. Like the time I had just started a new job recently and went out for a few drinks with my new work mates. They decided to head back to one girl's place to play board games (seriously, we're all nerds) and drink more wine. One of the older guys (by which I mean mid-30s; we're mostly mid-20s) was wearing a baseball cap and when asked why he said he thinks it makes him look younger. They put me on the spot and asked if I thought it made him look younger and I said "Well yeah, but not necessary in a good way". It seemed to come out in slow motion... and the gaping mouths and stares all turning towards me seemed to happen in slow motion too... what was I thinking?

I'll tell you what I was thinking - he looked like a middle-aged douche trying to look like he's still 'one of the guys' with the 20-somethings. To some extent it really made him look older, because it made him look like someone who feels the need to look younger - if that makes anyway sense. But who says that?!
(, Wed 9 Nov 2011, 10:24, Reply)
Just for you
Back in the distant past, when "DJ" meant "annoying tit who is paid by the record companies to talk over records so you can't tape them from the radio", I heard one of these idiots doing a dedication. The listener had requested a record to be played for them as they were getting married that day.

So what tune did the vinyl-meister choose to spin for the happy couple on their special day? It was called "You left me just when I needed you most"...

Still, not as bad as that football stadium disaster where loads of people got crushed: the TV cut away to an advert, which happened to have the song "Take my breath away" playing over it...
(, Wed 9 Nov 2011, 10:22, 2 replies)
birthday cake
it's my birthday on friday (11/11/11 woo!) and my colleague was trying to get me enthused about it. she was pointing out that i am having 3 different sets of drinks and i was getting more and more glum about being another year older. then i brightened a bit, and said, at least i can bring cakes in.

"what kind of cake do you like best?" she said. i then went off on a slightly tongue-in-cheek morose rant about how i don't really like cake that much, i like biscuits or chocolates or sometimes a crappy mr kipling slice but not homemade cakes because you never know quite what someone has done with them or what their hygiene standards are like. when i finished, she looked at me, and said:

"because i was going to make one for you, but i guess i won't now!"

urrrgh, i'm so fucking rude!
(, Wed 9 Nov 2011, 10:16, 4 replies)
I've lost two and a half stone
In the last four months. A colleague who i haven't seen in a while told me i was looking well and enquired about my weight loss. I told him all about it to which he replied "Way to go you fat fuck".
(, Wed 9 Nov 2011, 9:54, 1 reply)
Happy Fucking Birthday, Widow.
I hate buying birthday cards, I hate the crappy designs, the inflated prices for a bit of folded paper and the 'joke's or, worse, the second hand sentiments from the Hallmark Sweatshop of Platitudes. I don't get many cards myself, largely because I rarely send them, and that's fine by me. But a few years ago, I'd made friends with a female colleague, i'd known her about 10 months and she invited me to the pub with her and her mother for her mother's birthday. I liked her Mum, so was happy to say yes. I nipped out in my lunchtime to get a card. It didn't take me long to get fed up looking at the rows and rows of innappropriate sex and fart jokes or too sentimental for 'the mother of a friend' cards. I finally saw one that had a 'as vaguely amusing as these things get' joke, paid and headed out of the shop.

Later, we're in the pub and I pull the card out of my bag and hand it to the birthday woman with a smile and a 'Have a lovely birthday' and as I do so, I start to get a sinking feeling as I realise the card I have just handed to this woman, this lonely, 3 months a widow after losing her huband to cancer woman. This woman who is having the first birthday she has had since the tragic loss of the man she had spent 30 years with...this card I have just handed to her has on the front a black and white picture of three women sitting round a table clearly animatedly talking, and one man, laying with his head on his arms on the table. Underneath the image are the words

'The women had been talking for so long they hadn't noticed Jean's Husband had passed away three hours ago'.


Happy Fucking Birthday indeed.
(, Wed 9 Nov 2011, 9:01, 30 replies)
This is a Daughter Store Announcement....
My daughter Nell at the time aged 2 with her nan who wanted to take her shopping. They wonder around the aisles of TK-Max looking at bread-bins and other random tat when further down the aisle an elderly lady knocks over a silver plated cutlery set that was on display. The box lands upside down, spewing silver twangs and clattering around the store and everyone goes quiet, the woman clearly completely embarrassed that she's done it and starts quietly picking it all up.
So it's during this quiet moment of reflection where everyone's staying silent as to not humiliate the already embarrassed woman where Nell sprints up to the woman, points at the pile of silverware and shouts as loud as she can "DID YOU SEE THAT, SHE'S DROPPED IT EVERYWHERE NANNY!!!!"
Humiliated by a 2 year old, I have taught her well.
(, Wed 9 Nov 2011, 7:57, 3 replies)

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