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This is a question Unusual talents

B3tans! Can you hum with your tongue? (Your Ginger Fuhrer can and he once demonstrated this to a producer on Blockbusters on the hope of getting on TV) Maybe you can bend your thumb in a really horrid way that makes it look broken. (Your Ginger Fuhrer's other special talent) What can you do? Extra points if you fancy demonstrating this with the odd pic or youtube vid.

Suggested by Dazbrilliantwhites

(, Thu 18 Nov 2010, 14:28)
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This question is now closed.

I can sing a rainbow.

(, Wed 24 Nov 2010, 10:03, 18 replies)
One of my mates
Can turn his legs the wrong way round.
(, Wed 24 Nov 2010, 4:54, 6 replies)
I am nigh impervious to cold
I haven't worn anything outside in the winter that I don't also wear in the summer in years, which normally means jeans, t-shirt, and unbuttoned shirt over that (so I have a pocket for my phone).

I live in Canada, by the way.

Last Friday Vancouver got its first real snowfall of the year, so while I was on the elevated train platform waiting for my train a trio of women, bundled up against the blowing snow, noticed me with my shirt billowing casually reading on my phone.

"Hey, check out Johnny Storm!" said one of them, and asked if they could take pictures.

So if you see a white guy, holding a lit lighter in each hand pointing at the camera casually dressed, flanked by coat/scarf/hat/gloves bedecked women, with snow swirling around, that may be me.

We've had warm winters recently, so I only know I can be comfortable like this to -25C. This is apparently going to be a harsher winter, so now I get to see what kind of cold I can really handle.

Boring, but handy.
(, Wed 24 Nov 2010, 2:38, 32 replies)
I know my 99 times table
Kinda. I have a trick to do it (for numbers under 100)

Instantaneous answers. No "multiplying by 100 and substracting" either
(, Tue 23 Nov 2010, 23:32, 4 replies)
In my youth I could bind and gut a German in a matter of seconds
Now days I can hardly hurl obscenities at the local children without suffering massive chest pains.
(, Tue 23 Nov 2010, 22:58, 3 replies)
On the subject of animal impersonations,
this fellow's principal talent seems to be laughing like an asthmatic seal.
(, Tue 23 Nov 2010, 22:23, 3 replies)
I haven't used it for sometime
But I used to be able to judge a woman's bra size bang on (measurement and cup) with just a glance. Whether there is any use for this in modern life, well I don't care, but it was a nice hobby.! For instance...

A work collegue and I were discussing something random a while back. Talents came up and I mentioned the boob guesswork. We had a laugh about it and she said she hoped I wouldn't guess her size... to which I promised not to. She had to go back to working and as she turned I added... "Oh and 36B". She opened her mouth to say something, then just nodded and said "errr yeah, when did you even look.???"

(, Tue 23 Nov 2010, 21:17, 7 replies)
I know a neat little trick for the result of multiplying any number by 11
there aren't many explicit cases where this helps in any form whatsoever, but it's quite fun telling kids and watching them completely surprise adults by correctly multiplying really long and randomly generated numbers by eleven.
(, Tue 23 Nov 2010, 17:19, 6 replies)
The hymen is broken.......
Okay, deep breath.....After three years of (mostly) chuckling at all the goings-on here, I've finally bitten the bullet and joined in. Like all great athletes, I shall be starting off with a warm-up exercise, nothing too strenuous, before 'going for gold'.....probably in another three years time. I always was a slow worker, so please bear with me.

In the mid-nineties, I had the 'pleasure' of being a driving instructor based in North London. One crisp, winter's morning, I was driving up Colney Hatch Lane on my way to Muswell Hill for my next lesson. All was well with the world. The rush-hour traffic had finally cleared, I had a shiny, new motor, money in my pocket, and my next pupil was a blonde in her early twenties, who on her first lesson wore a tracksuit which would have put Vicky Pollard to shame, but was now, following a few weeks of outrageous Clinton/Lewinsky-type flirting (but minus the cigar), wearing progressively shorter and shorter skirts and cleavage-enhancing tops. Lovely stuff!
I'm listening to Russ and Jono on Virgin (in those halcyon days before that (other) fat twat Moyles came along and fucked radio up the shit-pipe). They make a little joke, play a few risque sound-effects, a crap jingle or two, they may have even, heaven forbid, played a 'record'. Then they ask people to call in if they can do an impression. Obviously they were running out of material of their own. That type of comedy gold doesn't grow on trees, you know? Glory be, my chance for fifteen minutes of fame (again...but that's a story for another day. Don't you remember me saying this was merely a 'stretching' exercise? Do keep up).
I'm a little ahead of schedule, so I immediately check my mirrors, give the appropriate signal and park the car at the side of the road in a safe and legal place. Straight onto the phone, call the number, and whaddyaknow? I get through to a nice lady in the studio. I'm going to be famous....ish! Only problem is, in my rush I haven't actually thought of what it is that's going to make me as big as Yarwood. The nice lady asks me my name, where I'm from, etc, then the dreaded, what/who can you 'do'? ''I can 'do' Flipper the dolphin'', says I quick as a flash, and then give her a three second sample of said sound-alike. (Forefinger and thumb together, kiss the crack like it's your nan's cheek, if you want to try it yourself and impress members of the opposite sex.) She laughs and says to hold on, as I'll be on live as soon as the other two contestants are found.
So there I am, parked at the side of the road, practising my Flipper impression , nervously waiting. Finally, the moment comes. I'm up against a woman who ''makes the sound F1 cars make when they go past you'', and if I remember correctly, ''a sheep with a hiccup''. ''It's in the bag'', thinks I...and it turns out that Russ and Jono think so, too.
Okay, I admit the competition weren't exactly the Linford Christie's of the impressions world (i.e they didn't cheat and took massive drugs), but I like to think my unusual talent brought a little bit of laughter into somebody's dark and dreary life.
My prize? A Virgin Radio goody-bag, which I waited..and waited...aaaaand waited for, but never arrived. I'm pretty sure that baseball cap would have made a fine addition to my wardrobe. For weeks, I wondered what happened to that bag of goodies. I found out about a month later when, just as I was about to send Russ and Jono a stern letter from my lawyer threatening legal action, I saw my postman a few streets from my home, proudly wearing his bright red, Virgin FM baseball cap.
Okay, that bit I made up, but the rest is true. I did get to nail the blonde, though. After she'd passed her test of course. I am/was a professional, after all. Apologies for the length (fnnaarrr!), but these stories don't seem anywhere near as involved when they're in the old noggin!
(, Tue 23 Nov 2010, 16:33, 20 replies)
This is not my talent
but it's still an interesting one.

(, Tue 23 Nov 2010, 16:14, 4 replies)
I can give multiple orgasms to over thirty women
in a single wank-fantasy.
(, Tue 23 Nov 2010, 15:55, Reply)
Bum-drum, Mongo-eye and Crab-hands
I can individually clench my arse cheeks so they look like the Invisible Man is boshing out a Keith Moon solo on them.

I can also make one eye veer to the side whilst the other stays in the middle.

Finally, I can bend all my fingers over the bottom knuckle of the adjacent digit, creating crab-like mandible claws.
(, Tue 23 Nov 2010, 15:02, 2 replies)
of very limited use and not a talent that would get you laid
When studying A Level maths at college a few years ago, I could tell if a quadratic equation could be factorised and if so give the solutions within pretty much the same time as it took to write down the equation in the first place.

Teacher: "ok, 6x2 + 7x - 3 = 0. So first.."
Me: "we factorise to give (2x+3)(3x-1)"
Teacher: "Eh?"
Me: "So x = -3/2 and x = 1/3"
Teacher: "Eh?"
(, Tue 23 Nov 2010, 14:47, 17 replies)
student loan
I didn't pay a penny of mine back until 12 years after graduating.


Because I earned too little the whole time.

That's less of a talent and more of an abject personal failure.
(, Tue 23 Nov 2010, 14:00, 3 replies)
I am the scam king
In this time of poverty I can claim a host of wins, the highlight has been 9 free pizza's from Dominoes this month, totally above board I just asked for them. If only I could work out free beer.... *ponder*
(, Tue 23 Nov 2010, 13:22, 1 reply)
The amber nectar.

I can sniff it out. Line up any number of 'by the tap' lagers and I will find the Fosters.

Went to my local lunchtime boozer (E1) to chuck back 4 pints before staggering back to the office and asked the manager for a pint. Colin knew what I wanted and dished it out together with a wine for some bit of office totty I was trying to rub my blackberry up and down. Mine is special as it charges by kinetic energy. That's what I told her anyway.

Have a quick sip and return to a bit of blonde talk. Taste buds / nose kicks in and reports back to brain that the liquid I've just imbibed was not right.

Another slurp whilst agreeing about Sandra being a back stabbing bitch and glad she got a verbal.

Nose to Brain - 'oi monkey meat, that's not Fosters you're guzzeling down your gullet. Get it sorted or ill report to stomach to reject forthwith'.

Brain strains to keep up and chooses to have a last taste of sweet blonde stuff, whilst the todger dept was thinking the same.

Nose to Brain 'See, wanker, fucking told you it wasn't Fosters, sort it now!' Followed by a slight churn of my tum tum just to make a point.

Oi, Colin, you arse. Have you cleaned the pipes out properly? I piped up.

Of course I fucking have you southern softie. Now fucking drink it. Was colin's reply.

No, seriously. Its not Fosters.

Yes it fucking is!

No, its fucking not!!!

Colin gets off his arse and pours a rats piss size off the Fosters tap and offers it to me. I drink, swill and almost spit.

Nope. That's not Fosters.

It fucking is. Colin reminds me. I've just poured it out of the Fosters tap!

I don't care, my gentle local landlord, that is not Fosters.

It fucking is!

Its NOT!

I changed the barrel myself this morning! Ut fucking is.

Bet you a tenner its not!

Right you little twerp! And walks off swearing.

Colin returns in 5 mins and goes straight to the till, takes out a tenner and promply hands it over to me.

Aye, ya wanker. Ave it. I connected the 1664 barrel to the Fosters line.

Ha told you! Believe me next time and ill have a replacement pint please.

Cor a tenner. Off a scottish landlord in the east end of london.


Shame the blondes body didn't match up. Still, made her ......
(, Tue 23 Nov 2010, 13:09, 21 replies)
I am one of the few people in the country
who can train and drive a team of oxen. They are not stupid as popular sayings suggest but learn voice commands much quicker than dogs, and after a few times of re-tracing a route you don't have to tell them where to go. It's true that they can be very stubborn though.

I'm quite proud of it, especially since I'm a girl.
(, Tue 23 Nov 2010, 12:25, 13 replies)
I'm also good at Dominoes
I count the spots and can tell which ones haven't been played. This isn't actually very useful, as people don't bet big money on old men's games.
(, Tue 23 Nov 2010, 10:35, Reply)
I'm a bit synaesthesic
I have shapes for smells and flavours, colours for words and can see dates in the air. I can remember what I was doing on certain dates by where they are in the air.

This isn't actually as useful as it sounds.
(, Tue 23 Nov 2010, 10:32, 9 replies)
I invent all sorts of things, but I never have the resources to get them patented/marketed/on Dragon's Den. My latest invention is a penis-disguise kit which, with a rubber band and some flower-petals would make one’s penis look like a flower. The idea being that bees would come along and drink semen thinking it was nectar and then use it to make honey that could be given to people you didn’t like.
(, Tue 23 Nov 2010, 10:25, 16 replies)
I don't post as much on B3ta as some people, but when I do it's often an ambigram - a word that can be viewed in more than one way, often upside-down as in

I've made these for years and I don't know why I can do them. It's a pretty good party trick to do with people's names, and in fact was something I did at a party to impress a young lady who since became Mrs Flatfrog and the mother of my two Flatspawn.
(lots more examples on my profile page - I make them on request when I get a bit of spare time, so feel free to gaz me)
(, Tue 23 Nov 2010, 10:14, 11 replies)
I have a talent for knowing the shortest word with three 'u's in it.

Who am I kidding, of course I don't have that talent, I don't know the word, but I bet it's unusual.
(, Tue 23 Nov 2010, 9:56, 15 replies)
I can make the sound of a can of coke being poured with my nose and mouth working as one. It sounds genuine, but is a rubbish party trick when there's loud music.

Coca-Cola ran a campaign based solely on that. I didn't enter, and I'm still unsure why.
(, Tue 23 Nov 2010, 9:52, Reply)
cooking alchemy
I've been cooking my own food for the last twenty years or so and have developed an unerring ability to measure any ingredients by sight and by smell.

Rice, water, pasta, white sauces, spices - whatever, I know instinctively how much to use every time. Never weigh or measure anything. Which means I can cook an entirely new meal from scratch any time without seeing a recipe. This also extends to things I might eat in a restaurant. All I have to do is taste it, then I can replicate it (unless it's got £50 of white truffles in it or Argentinian steak etc).

My simplest pleasure is rice. Drop in a few handfuls, pour over the water, bang the lid on and I end up with perfectly fluffy rice with no excess water every single time .
(, Tue 23 Nov 2010, 9:45, 2 replies)
I can do a very good impression of....
Nelson Mandela.
(, Tue 23 Nov 2010, 9:38, 6 replies)
I have a world-class imagination, and have often been told I'm a master storyteller
And, well...that's about it really

(, Tue 23 Nov 2010, 2:28, 4 replies)
I can train birds which symbolises my talents which will be wasted in an industrial system which sends young men down t'pit
Especially kestrels.
(, Tue 23 Nov 2010, 1:39, 1 reply)
It's not unusual
but I suppose one of my talents is singing a certain Tom Jones song really well.
(, Mon 22 Nov 2010, 23:58, 1 reply)
Read This
I can make others do my bidding.
(, Mon 22 Nov 2010, 23:43, 2 replies)

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