It's a library not a pub
So many school stories .... clearly there is much repressed anger out there!

Anyway, our suffering at the local grammar school was mainly caused by a jumped-up piggy-faced little twerp of an English teacher. Returning in your 60s to teach at the school you attended as a teenager clearly says something about you, and in his case it says that he was a smug little git who thought he was God's gift to the English teaching profession.

This being a grammar school, the library was open at lunchtime and we used to use it. For it's proper purpose, sometimes. The only fly in the ointment (oinkment?) was this teacher, who was responsible for the library and therefore had a disconcerting habit of actually going there at lunch and strutting around generally puffing himself up.

Anyway, at the end of lunch he would announce "Time, Gentlemen, Please" (yes, t'was a boy's grammar school) in some form of highly witty and grandiose impression of a barman. Which we all thought was terribly funny and completely un-pretentious. Not.

So, one day, a young lad by the name of Bateman is in the library and fails to respond to the calling of time quickly enough to satisfy the little egomaniac. So what does he shout? At full volume? In a library?

"AND THAT INCLUDES YOU, MASTER BATEMAN!!"

Cue 100 or so lads falling about laughing and much loss of face.

(Anyway, he also lost my essay once, blamed it on me, and nearly made me fail an O level as a result, so 21 years later I wrote up his embarassment on b3ta to get my own back)
(patently Was somewhere else on, Mon 30 Apr 2007, 15:48, Reply)

angry man i am i am
back in secondary school, In the first couple of years (before I came out of my shell to become the uberlegend I am today) I was consistently picked on, mostly as I was rake thin and quite studious.

One lunchtime, one of the lads in our year, lets call him Niel (bearing in mind, we are actually on decent terms now), decided to tie me to a chair and lob stuff at me.

It was a wet lunchhour, so we were all confined to the classrooms, so he was bored.
He proceeded to get some of his chums to tie me to said chair with jumpers/scarves etc.

Silly boy.

After he had lobbed (gentlyish) a few random classroom objects my way, I realised that jumpers/scarves arent exactly escape proof, so I worked one arm free.

As the next book was arcing gently in my direction I flashed out my now free hand, caught it and sent it frisbee style back at him.

The corner of it broke his silly NHS glasses and the glass cut his cheek to fuck.
I then proceeded to drop the chair on him and told him in no uncertain terms that if it occured once more I would 'fucking do him'.

No one bullied me after that.

That taught him/them.


I got a MASSIVE amount of detention for that though!!!!

No justice.
(UnstableDan Bah, Humbug! ooooh, humbugs, nyom!, Mon 30 Apr 2007, 15:16, Reply)

Never piss off the guy who looks after your server
a few years back I was the IT bod for a company in a little backwater town that imported cheap tat. The manager was a very shifty bloke who was a failed accountant with a haircut verging on a combover.
One day a lady in a suit came along and told us that the company was bankrupt and we were all being laid off. A few hours later a few of us were called into the managers office and told that he had set up another company and we were being re-hired. Now I'm pretty sure this was rather illegal but I was still getting paid and the new office was closer to home so wasn't too fussed.
Now this new comapny is on very rocky ground, lots of hush hush meetings and don't tell so and so and paychecks being rather late and one day we turned up to find the door nailed shut due to the landlord not being paid. But it was an easy job and I got to spend most of the day photoshopping for b3ta so I persevered.
I went on a few days holiday and when I got back found a letter telling me I had been fired, a letter? how dare he!
Actually it was rather astute on his part as if he had of told me in person I would have been sure to wreak havoc on the server on my way out and no I had no such opportunity for revenge.

or did I?

about a week or so after I was fired, shifty manager sacked a bunch more people (including a lady with a baby on the way) and as we had been working for an illegal company there was no comeback and signing on wouldn't be possible for a couple of months. complete bastardaroonie

Now the particular database program used in this office was a very delicate old thing and if something went wrong, nothing short of a complete restoration of the drive would fix it. Luckily there was an automatic tape backup system in place. Unluckily this system hadn't been working properly since we moved offices. Luckily I had been making backups by ghosting the drive and saving the copy to another part of the server. but about a month before I was sacked I had installed a little program called "dead mans switch" on the server, running under a super admin account. This was a little program that required me to click a button about every three weeks, otherwise it would do this.




and that's what it did.

a couple of weeks after I was fired my final paycheck arrived in the post and the very next day I recived a phonecall from shifty manager asking me to come and fix the server. I told him I'd consult my diary and get back to him.

length? I'm reliably informed he did six months for embezzelment
( VampireMonkeyOnSpeed a super sexy sexual sex terrorist sex, Mon 30 Apr 2007, 14:55, Reply)

I'm not sure if anyone learnt anything here...
That'll teach 'em…

I suppose I could call on the football match of this season when Bristol City played Nottingham Forest.

After the match, which Bristol City sadly lost, a handful of Bristol City supporters were attacked on their walk away from the stadium, by all accounts, having been assaulted, they opted for 'running away as fast as possible' - which I understand they did with aplomb.

The Bristol City supporters who were running away from the attack happened to chance across some other Bristol City supporters who decided, on hearing the story of their fellow supporters being attacked, to run as well.

They, however ran IN the direction of the Nottingham Forest supporters who had attacked the Bristol City supporters. The Nottingham Forest supporters who previously, were big and brave and full of bravado decided that they were be better off hiding from this mob of angry Bristol City supporters by taking refuge in the Amici Wine Bar.

YouTube has the footage, the search criteria of - Bristol City Nottingham Forest Amici - will give you the end of the story.

Suffice to say, a valuable lesson was learnt that day, if you are going to attack innocent people, you will eventually find people who are happy to attack you.

I think that learn't em.

And no, none of this is big or clever and we'd all be a lot happier if non of the above had ever occurred.

Length? - I don't think it's appropriate with this story.
( JeffTheDogFucker Can you dig it?, Mon 30 Apr 2007, 13:42, Reply)

Tiggy the Diver
Your ex fella doesn't frequent Fareham much does he? Sounds like so many blokes who live round the neighbourhood :-)
(RickGrimes Quite frankly, disappointed on, Mon 30 Apr 2007, 13:40, Reply)

i'm
either far too nice or far too wet for this qotw. i've never done anything like this!

what could i say...

my client's tenant didn't pay his rent so i stat demanded him. ha!

or...

my client's vendor failed to comply with its obligations so i issued an application in the high court for specific performance AND then i was awarded all my costs. mwa ha ha ha.

bring on the "lousy sex" or the "mad boss" or the "obscure instructions" or the "what makes you really mad" qotw, then i'll have lots to say. that'll show all of you, that will...
( rachelswipe with a fork, Mon 30 Apr 2007, 12:50, Reply)

Apprentice *that* you tosser
I went to school with Alan Sugar's son, Daniel. When we were about 16 I caught him picking on some poor little kid with a bunch of his leechy mates during our school play.

As it was the last night, everyone had a stash of booze, and Daniel's was a bottle of cider which was stashed in the teacher's desk in the classroom that was doubling as a changing room. Whilst he was on stage (probably "3rd mong" in the chorus line which was about his level), I drank a bit out of the top of his cider bottle and filled it up with piss.

I then took pleasure in not only watching them all drink it in a "aren't we hard" kind of way, but also standing with the kid he'd been bullying and seeing one of his mates make an aside to another of them : "Tastes like piss dunnit?"

When I told him what I'd done, he actually didn't believe me. Priceless - confession to alleviate any guilt plus walking away scott free.
( pilchardboy, Mon 30 Apr 2007, 12:19, Reply)

Millenium Eve
In 1999 I worked in a pub in Sheffield called the Psalter Tavern. I worked there for a couple of months and had told the landlord, Brian, that I would not be able to work Millenium Eve.

Work continued apace, and two friends of mine joined as silver service waiters and bar staff. Again, all said they couldn't work Millenium Eve.

We got to the 19th December, and Brian told us that if we didn't work Millenium Eve, we could work the end of the week, then we'd be out of a job.

That evening, 60 WI people were booked in for a meal with Silver Service. I spoke to Neil, and we all just sacked off work leaving Brian with only himself, 1 barman and 1 pot washer, along with chefs, to cover 60 diners silver service and run a busy bar.

I went in a month later and was thrown out with extreme prejudice. I went back a month after that and the brewery had removed Brian from his post. Mainly because of the volume of complaints received at Christmas.
( disasterprone "Pyjamas caused the Holocaust", Mon 30 Apr 2007, 12:19, Reply)

Karma Fairy !
This is a horrible tale, but I think he got his just desserts. Karma Fairy tales !

When I left the godforsaken country of the Isle of Wight in 1982, I moved to Portsmouth on my own and rented a bedsit. I had no friends or family to visit or support me, but I did have a job. I met this man who was a car salesman at the local Ford dealership. Suddenly I was in a new world where I was fraternising with what I thought was the Portsmouth and Southsea Mafia and life was great if you sucked up to said BF. So I got involved. Stupid mistake, and fell in love. Then the tables turned. It was just before Christmas. He started being verbally abusive. I was confused. I didn’t have any money then and credit cards were a big no-no, but I’d saved up some money to buy a coat for the winter. When I wore this coat to go out to one of his car-matey functions he was absolutely convinced I’d got another BF who had bought me the coat. I hadn’t got another BF. Before we went out, in front of me, he’d shredded the coat I’d saved up for and shouted and told me he’d kill me if I ever went near another man. Then he showed me a diamond ring. We were late for the do we were going to so I stupidly dried my tears and went out to said function. He said to me that the ring was a surprise and that I’d made him show it to me before Christmas Day. I was sorry, of course wasn’t I ?

Are you fuming yet ?

So come Christmas Day. He came round, and he was drunk. He said the surprise was that the ring wasn’t for me. He laughed, and left.

So, I phoned the police, gave them the make and model of his Ford Escort he loved so much, and his address where he lived with Mummy and Daddy.

Didn’t see him for 2 years. Don’t know what happened to this day. Saw him after that in a hotel near Cosham when I was a bit more well-off and had joined the fitness club. He tried to say hello. Didn’t even cross the line, because most people can lip-read “Fuck Off”. Then I saw him more recently running a garage in Southsea. There was a website. I was very tempted to get my mate Andy to fuck up the site with spam and porn, but as he didn’t own it (I found out later) I didn’t do it. The garage went bust a year ago.

I do wonder what he is doing now. I learned a lot in those 9 months.

Never upset me, because I will find you one day.
( Tiggy the diver, Mon 30 Apr 2007, 12:12, Reply)

Fothermucker
Are you now suffering from post-cunnilingual tongue paralysis which results in the sufferer sounding like Jamie Oliver?

The morning after can result in amusement when you try to reply in the affirmative to a colleagues enquiry as to your health, as it always results in an "Awwight fancks" spluttered out while trying to wipe the drool from your chin.
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Mon 30 Apr 2007, 11:58, Reply)

foreplay
My wife complained that I never spend enough time on foreplay, so this weekend I spent about 20 minutes lapping like an enthusiastic labrador at her clitoris as she writhed and moaned, gripping my head 'twixt straining thighs. By the end of it, I had a dislocated neck, a swollen tongue and a face smeared with lady juices and stray hair. That showed her! She won't be complaining anymore.
(Fothermucker, Mon 30 Apr 2007, 11:52, Reply)

Another dull crap flatmate tale
Back at uni, 4 of us decided to share a flat during our second year. One of the 4 we shall call Barry. He was a fat, unhygienic cretin, with few redeeming qualities other than he had a car which was very handy. For the old Viz readers out there, he looked like Felix from Felix And His Amazing Underpants, but when he spoke it was more like Roger Irrelevant.

Sadly Barry had some very dubious friends - friends that grunted rather than spoke, turned the place into a squat, stored all kinds of frankly weird shit in the flat, and pinched our food and clothes when we weren't there.

Our relationship with him quickly deterioated.

Barry shared a room with a mate of ours, who's life was made miserable by Barry and his pals. His stuff went missing or was moved on a daily basis. They talked about stabbing him while he was pretending to be asleep. They put drawing pins around his bed so that he would step on them when he got up. Childish stuff really, but it eventually came to a head and we told him to pack his shit and get the hell out.

He left immediately, telling all our mutual friends, coursemates etc, that he was delighted to leave at the drop of a hat because we would be liable for his share of the rent for the remainder of the year as "there's no way they'll get anyone to move in with them for 3 months".

Wrong Barry. You moved out, we fumigated your stinking boudoir, and another mate moved in that afternoon. Get it right up you.
(Reverend Fister "a disciplined fuckwit", Mon 30 Apr 2007, 11:32, Reply)

Teaching -the hard way
Shortly after university, when I had been fired from a selection of retail jobs, I decided to try my hand at TEFL teaching and went off to Greece with no qualification or experience to teach some of the most spoilt little bastards in the world.

One class of 11 year-olds contained pretty much every kind of anti-social, sociopathic and behaviourally-disordered creatures you could imagine. They saw their lessons with me as an opportunity to take the piss and insult me in Greek. But there was one fat little shit who thought it hilarious to sing in a falsetto whine every time I spoke, much to the amusement of his followers. Even when I was screaming at them, he would start his faux-operatics.

I asked the other teachers how they controlled him and their advice was somewhat unexpected: "Hit him. Hard. His parents are Cretan and they beat him all the time - it's the only thing he respects."

Much against my instincts, I started the next lesson with an expectation of violence. Sure enough, during a test, the rotund tosser started to play the drums with some pencils, distracting the others. So, approaching from behind, I swung a hardback dictionary at the top of his head.

I was aiming to skim it off his crown as a surprise, but he moved back at the critical moment and I cracked him with something like a golf drive square on the back of the head. He bounced off the book and hit the desk face first with a resounding crack.

Funny thing, though - he was quiet for the rest of the lesson. Or rather, he lay face down snuffling pitifully and not showing his snot and tear-streaked face. It was a very pleasant lesson thereafter.
(frankspencer, Mon 30 Apr 2007, 11:01, Reply)

turfing Princess Tony and Co out of Number 10 and relocating them to downtown Baghdad. Let's see how he likes his family dicing with death every time they want to buy a pack of spuds down the local market.

That'll teach him a f**king lesson


(The Goat www.cuttingthroughthematrix.com, Mon 30 Apr 2007, 10:23, Reply)

Ah, Squash Rackets
back in the day (by that, I mean year 4) there was an option to learn how to play squash. I borrowed my dad's and took it to school with me.

At the end of the day, these lads decided to chase me, and try to nice it. Fuck That, me thoughts.

So they (there was three of them) ran after me, down this road. It was by coincidence that my mum, and the mum of the main guy who was chasing me was waiting. While being chased, and running past said parentals, I was fiddling to get this racket out of it case. I stopped, and turned around, with the racket.

I had no intention of hitting him, I just wanted to scare him, like he tried to do with me. I held the racket up, and proceeded to swing it, side on, and manage to stop it just before it connected. His tears was such a great site to see.
(drain_bamaged, Mon 30 Apr 2007, 9:35, Reply)

Well is this enough??
in year seven, i was best friends with a girl in my form who had some serious "issues" depression and the like, and was always crying for help even though every time i tried to help her she'd throw it in my face, scream at me, hit me, call me names, spread rumours, split me and my bf up basically being a complete bitch.

so eventually she tried it on me during the end of the school year, when i found out she had written this book (ever seen mean girls??? she's like, regina and gretchen mixed together) where she had put, in detail, how nasty and spiteful i was and why was she bothering with me, and then she had the nerve to say it was my fault cos i'd seen the book (she'd left it in my locker and told me to read it!)

by the way, did i mention that several times, she said i was fat (at the timeabout 110lbs) and she was about twice that?? but, being the stupid, sensitive twit i was, i stopped eating for 4 months and went down to about 65lbs. that was bad...took me three years to get back up to over100 lbs..

anyways, she gave me so much crap i told her to fuck off in front of everyone and reduced her to tears.

you would think that would be the end of it. but no.

she gets her friends in year 10 (while i was a meek year 8 now, cos the holidays passed) to send me death threats, stalk me, and send horrible emails?

what did i do???

i got her kicked out of my form and and intervention order....that learned her

*insert shitty length joke about cocks here*
(Poppet some assembly required., Mon 30 Apr 2007, 9:20, Reply)

Worse than BMW drivers
One evening I was driving anticlockwise round the M25 at 5ish in "lane 3" as the authorities call it when the car in front of me stopped rather suddenly. I braked for all I was worth but still hit it, albeit gently. Luckily there was just enough room between the armco and the aforementioned lane 3 to pull both cars to the centre of the extremely busy M25.
The porsche driver that had been behind me decided to lower his window and hurl abuse at me for stopping, just before showing how fast his car could accelerate, all the while looking in my direction and gesticulating wildly. Shame he didn't see the 8 foot long 1 foot square baulk of oak that had fallen from a lorry across the carriageway (the reason that the guy in front of me had stopped in the first place).
Even more of a shame when the front of his tossmobile caved in, as did the back when the white van that had tailed him crashed into him.
Damage to my car? £400.
Damage to the guy I hit? £750.
Damage to 3 month old Porsche 911? TOTAL WRITEOFF.
Maybe he learned something, maybe he didn't but the sight of a grown man sobbing like a girl when the police turned up and told him they'd "seen everything on cctv" and they considered his damage to be "entirely his fault" will cheer me up to my dying day.
(Captain Placid 24/7 ball gags, brownie mix and clown porn, Mon 30 Apr 2007, 8:59, Reply)

I used to work nights
and often gave a colleague, who didn't drive, a lift each way. Her husband would drive her 6 miles or so to a car park where I'd pick her up and take her the remaining 5 miles, and we'd do the same in reverse next morning.

As they'd just moved there, they didn't know anyone to leave their 3 young kids with, so they'd be in the car every night and morning.

All went well, until, for some reason, she began making up stories about how I would pour out my heart to her in the car every day about an extra-marital affair with another workmate. All completely untrue.

So I said nowt, waited until xmas eve, gave her a lift in as usual, and then next morning, pissed off home early without her.

Her husband was of course waiting with the kids. This was before mobile phones so he couldn't easily get in touch, and neither he nor she had any idea what was going on. So she was stranded 11 miles from home on Xmas morning, and he and the kids were sitting on a car park.

I heard that it was lunchtime before they all got home. She didn't get any more lifts off me and left soon afterwards because of 'transport difficulties'. Bitch.
(Juan Quar is clinging to her front teeth on, Mon 30 Apr 2007, 8:08, Reply)

I had
fallen out with the guy from the house next door, on account of him being a shit-stirring, backstabbing, ginger little tosser, yet tolerated him as he got on well with some of my housemates.

What had started as dislike spiralled quickly, and before I knew it he was trying to drive wedges between myself and my friends, intending to cut me out of my own social loop. I hatched a plot, unpleasent yet simple.

I threw a party, ensured he and his cronies were invited, then arranged for his very-recently-ex-girlfriend, who I knew through someone I worked with, to show up when the party was in full swing. Cue ikkle Ginge storming out in tears, (she'd dumped him, and didn't care) humiliated before his closest friends. I grinned smugly, while someone assured me I was an utter cunt, and while many others laughed.

The party had been to celebrate our collective departure from residence, for twas a student house. We still had a week to go, and I had feared reprisals. However, as a bonus on that fateful night, one of my housemates, The Don, shagged one of Ex's friends, and The Friend spent my remaining period of domicile hanging round our living room bunny-boiling The Don (I let her in!), with Ex in tow. This ensured Ginger's absence, and granted me one week's peace and Gingerless quiet.

No chance for him to revenge upon me, although he whispered that he definately would. Eleven years and still waiting!

That'll teach him.
( cs1ca, Mon 30 Apr 2007, 3:58, Reply)

that taught him
One summers evening in Tokyo me and a few Liverpuddlian friends tried to half inch a humungus ghetto blaster from a shop but the staff got the hump and chased us down the street and took it back. . Five minutes later I was accosted by a Japanese old bill who grabbed my arm very roughly and tried to drag me towards the cop shop. Imagine his surprise when I blootered him one right on the end of his jaw, grabbed his truncheon and gave him a bloody good hiding with it. That'll teach them(Japanese old bill) FUCK THE FILTH
(amy crackpipe firing up Camden, Mon 30 Apr 2007, 3:44, Reply)

Can't think of a subject. Meat pudding. There you go.
A couple of kids lay in wait for me once & chased me down a street (er, I was a kid too). One gave up but the other was gaining, so I suddenly stopped and swung a fist round and he ran into it, right in his stomach, and down he went. Serves him right, the bastard. Turns out he was the brother of a girl I fancied at school. Serves him right, the bastard. Ah, the fun you have when you're 12.
(Herbert Piles, Mon 30 Apr 2007, 0:13, Reply)

Well, That Taught 'Em
I've never felt the slightest desire to travel 200 miles, pay £30 pound to watch a football game, then spend half of the match with my back turned from the pitch in order to 'teach em a lesson'.

Then again, I'm not a Man Utd fan.
(Fatima Whitbread's hardon drugs and the causes of drugs, Sun 29 Apr 2007, 23:47, Reply)

Exboyfriend
You'd think I'd need to exact a terrible revenge upon such a feeble human being but I can't do any worse than the neurotic girl he left me for did.

Heh heh heh.
(ladyintheradiator, Sun 29 Apr 2007, 23:39, Reply)

OzEden has reminded me of a guy I used to know
He was a postman and ex Guardsman so over 6ft tall and build like the proverbial...

He had just started delivering in the CT postal area to a particularly rough street.

On his first day someone tried to nick all the letters he'd left on his bike while he was delivering the post.

They only did it the once because he got hold of the chavs that did it, pushed them up against a wall, as you do, but wasn't violent to them....

No, he threatened to stop delivering the post to them....

So what, you may think, but all their Giro cheques (state benefits) were sent through the post in those days....

He never had any problems after that.
( chickenlady b3ta's very own Elizabeth Taylor, Sun 29 Apr 2007, 21:56, Reply)

Hmm...
Bindun?
(tero if I had a website, this is where I would plug it, Sun 29 Apr 2007, 21:03, Reply)

It wasn't me that did it but
In my newly driving days I was making one of my first solo trips.

Being still rather cautious with my driving (unlike now where I could probably do with a bit more caution) I was going quite slowly. Too slowly for the BMW-driving twunt behind me who proceeded to pull out and roar past me in the smug way that such people do. (He may or may not have been on his mobile as well, I forget after so long)

Oh how I laughed when he got flashed by a speed camera, and realised why I was driving so slowly. I'd like to say that taught him, but people like that never seem to learn. Nonetheless, it kept me happy for the rest of the day.
(Uncle Comrade, Sun 29 Apr 2007, 20:47, Reply)

Embarrassing attempt at bullying me
Now I'm not going to start this off with how I'm a 6'2" Atheletic Scottish ex-soldier. But Well I am. Anyhoo this was not always the case I was one of the smart kids at school but still a bit of a hit with the ladies *toots own trumpet*
So obviously this made some people jelous (i.e. thick ugly feckers)

Three of whom, lead by the skinniest short guy I can remember, decided to try and bully me. Now I say try. It was all verbal stuff, and the other two where in a few of my classes and always said sorry to me and how the other guy was a twat.
Kinda shit bullying. Anyhoo one night I goto a house party at the prettiest girl in the village's house. After a few drinks I decide to head home, light up a smoke and make my way down the hill. Half way down I hear a "rarrrrrrrr" and turn round to see what it is. Its the leader and one of the other guys. Now I know most people who are being bullied would run at this point, I however pointed out these guys where the worst bullies in history. so i just carry on walking. They eventually catch up with me and stop shouting "rarrr".
Me:"hey whats up?"
Them:"uh nothing"
They end up walking me to my door and I stay outside and finish my smoke. Chatting to them.
Flick my butt on the floor, one of them picks it up and tries to smoke it, its out. I inform them I'm hungry and off in for some food. They say they'll see me later and bugger off up the street.
5 mins later i goto the Chip shop across the street and the girl inside asks if i'm alright. I say yeah I'm fine thanks how are you, turns out the two guys say they beat the crap out of me. I laugh this off and tell her what happened. This goes around the whole school and the guys are a laughing stock, 2 against one and they didn't even have the stones to start anything. That showed them I guess.

Length? Why do you think i was so popular with the ladies? wasn't my involvement with the Math club thats for sure.
( Laird Dave Draws Now charges to take off his clothes., Sun 29 Apr 2007, 20:43, Reply)

Not me but...
A guy were I work who drives one of the vans, delivering parcels. I can't remember what his name is 'cos I don't work with the vans but namelessness aside I shall get on with the story.

The guy was making deliveries somewhere in the CT postcode area, can't remember where exactly but it's a bit of a shit-hole, when another bloke with a van waves him down and asks him if he's got any jump leads to start his van up again.

The guy from work being a decent fellow says sure, at which point 3 other people jump out of stranded-man's van and advance on him demanding that he hand over the keys of his van so they can steal it, parcels and all.

Little did they know that the guy from work is not only build like a brick shithouse but a blackbelt in karate, 2 of the people who tried to jump him ended up in hospital and the 2 who ran off got arrested later on when the hospitalised ones grassed them up.

That'll learn 'em!
(OzEden is probably clinically insane, Sun 29 Apr 2007, 20:27, Reply)