I've just been reprimanded by Chickenlady
For using the words "mother" and "tongue" in the same sentence....
... well it wasnt really a reprimand, more of an observation...
.. I'll get me coat.
(Vic Flange, Mon 24 Sep 2007, 21:39, Reply)

Actually, the car stories remind me
of the other week coming home from work on the M25. There is a section where it splits into six lanes as it approaches the M3 junction. I was trundling along happily enough on the inside lane when a lorry comes right up behind me. There was nowhere for me to pull in, it was rush hour so traffic everywhere stopping him from pulling out and I was getting a bit annoyed by him being on my bumper so I slowed down a bit. He got even closer and I could see him getting angry in my wing mirror. So I slowed down further. He got angrier and started flashing his lights. So I slowed down to 50.

He pulled onto the hard shoulder and started to speed up. Now, I don't know what sort of cunt you have to be to do that, but I had a good deal of empty road in front of me, so I sped up and stayed alongside him, all the while mouthing "what do you think you're doing?" at him. He hit his rev limiter and had to pull back in behind me.

Ooo, but he had a right strop going. Full on tantrum it was. Unfortunately the M3 junction was approaching and since I didn't actually want to go to Basingstoke (who the fuck does?), I had to pull over. So I shook my head very sadly and slowly at him and left him behind.

Brings a warm glow to my heart it does.

Also, tonight I got tail-gated in a carpark. A fucking *carpark*. What kind of a prick tail-gates in a carpark?
( Kroney, Mon 24 Sep 2007, 21:31, Reply)

After a messy weekend,
I was on the (4 hour) Sunday night mission back home to return to normality on Monday, and on the motorway I was ragging it a bit, between 80 and 90.

Anyway I move out to the middle lane to overtake when this car rages up behind me and starts flashing its lights repeated, to bully me into moving into a nonexistent space, so I finish overtaking and move back in, and stick up 2 fingers to this prick in an overpowered Volvo.

The chap in the passenger seat of this Volvo wasn't too happy about the reply and more importantly he was a motorway policeman, who went ape shit, whilst his colleague behind the wheel (who did the bullying) was grinning away like an wanking monkey in a banana shop.

I get pulled over understandably and spend 20 minutes in the back of this Highway Patrol car with my knees around my ears having the worst good cop bad cop act alternately shouted at me and then the point put over to me.

It culminated with me being asked for "one good reason I shouldn't be arrested".

then I was told to get out of the car, and as soon as the door was shut the police vehicle roared off never to be seen again
( Neon Blue Ah ha ha haa! I feel positively capital!, Mon 24 Sep 2007, 20:24, Reply)

As it happens
I had to give someone a mild rebuke just last night for driving around without any oil in her car.
( Kroney, Mon 24 Sep 2007, 19:51, Reply)

On Yer Bike
At the recent Leigh Regatta, near Southend, for the posh poeple. I chose to obey the NO FLICKING CYCLING on the narrow pathway between Leigh and Chalkwell stations, even though being off my bike made my span twice as wide.

Some old dithering twunt and his daughter-age about forty, the daughter, he must have been sixty at least, was walking side by side in front at a speed less than a slug with a limp. So I rocked up behind at a fit pace and needed to get past twunt plus one as I had a pint booked and an urge for a wee after the previous six pints of Aussie piss water.

Luckily the daughter saw the urgency of my cause, and I'm sure wanted a perv at the muscle tone of my legs / bum in cycling shorts (no padding required) and asked Dad to move over. At this point twunt decided not to move and remained mute to her requests saying I should wait! 'Its two sodding miles till the beachfront-and I'm not waiting behind you the whole time, cock' I thought. So with the same noise, poise and girth of a German Panzer steaming through northern europe I pushed past, with an apology of course, more than Hitler gave!

The retort from said twunt, which was reminicent of the the french when their Marrigold (5 digits and yellow) Line was circumvented within 2 days of planning by the devious Bosch (good drills) was, 'bloody bikes, what a pain in the arse, shouldn't be ridden on ere'. Bet he said that to the Stuka's as they were blowing the shit out of his mates on the beaches.

Nevertheless, and like the French poofs, he was overun with two fingers and compliments of the chef.

Next time I'm going to ride full pelt and score points for how many whinging arsehole I can clip. Extra points for chavs.

Daughter deserved to .......
(Suck it and Sea, Mon 24 Sep 2007, 18:31, Reply)

Frog non-abuse
A bunch of us good-for-nothing students were on the way to the pub one evening, the shortest route being across the nearby common. As we wandered along the path, we noticed little shapes hopping about in the gloom...frogs! A whole crapload of them, presumably moving from one pond to another or something. We were fascinated (presumably we'd already been drinking) and spent a while watching them go about their froggy business.

As we were standing there, some miserable old fart came wandering up the path and, apparently jumping to the conclusion that a bunch of young lads cannot be trusted to be left alone with wildlife, started to have a go at us for cruelty to frogs. As we stood bemused, he ranted on about how he was an animal lover and so forth, and concluded with:

"If you lot don't get out of here right now, I'll get a gang of mates from the pub and we'll teach you what for!"

This was too much for -S-, not over-endowed in the even-temper department at the best of times and especially volatile after a beer or two. As it happens he was from Northern Ireland and so, putting on his thickest Antrim drawl he calmly said:

"And if you don't fuck off, ya wee shite, we'll round up a gang and burn down your fuckin' house."

The look on the fella's face was priceless, as the blood drained away and he turned and, as instructed, fucked off.
( reallywittyname veraciously conspues lexiphanicism on, Mon 24 Sep 2007, 17:26, Reply)

Filth! Rats! Terror! Fire!
Shameless Repost

There were seven of us living in a large house in Sheffield. We were all men in our early twenties, lazy to a fault, and our lives revolved around takeaways, drugs, dancing and playstation. We were not the tidyest of groups. This untidyness was exacerbated by the fact we were a party house - the after party was usually held at ours and on more than one occasion I came home at about 9 or 10 in the morning to find a party going on in my living room, and me not recognising anyone.

Periodically we would have a mass clean up, and shovel everything into bin bags. However, as there was too much for a bin to handle, we just lobbed it into the garden. This carried on for months, and eventually there were in the region of 60 black bags, full of rubbish; old food, cans and so on.

Our landlord persistently asked us to remove this steaming pile of crap before the rats came. We agreed to, but just never got round to it. Then the council were involved, sending over environmental health inspectors and giving us 28 days to remove the rubbish, or they would do it and give us a hefty bill.

We agreed to do it. However, a couple of days before the agreed mass clean-up was to happen my folly solved the problem. I left a newspaper on top of the oven. The last person to use the hob had left it on, but switched it off at the wall. My mate put some food in the oven, turned it back on and when I went in to check progress the kitchen was ablaze. Panicking, we scooped the burning matter into a tray. That caught fire, owing to the fat and grot still on it. We opened the back door and lobed the tray out, straight onto 60 bags of highly combustible litter.

We didn't have to clean up the litter, or deal with the rodents that were indeed living there. However we did have a lot of explaining to do to the Fire Service, Police and above all the council, who were determined to believe it was deliberate.
( disasterprone "Pyjamas caused the Holocaust", Mon 24 Sep 2007, 17:00, Reply)

i went
to a christmas party when i was about 14 at my friend's aunt's house. they have a huge scarlet macaw (which has actually been on tv in a coffee advert in the past) called pedro. i did not know about pedro's existence at the time.

their house is lovely, but it's very old and split level. i was a bit drunk on illicit mulled wine and had wandered around looking for the bathroom. eventually i found the aunt and uncle's bedroom on the top floor, and decided to use their uber-luxurious ensuite.

washing my hands, i was awestruck by the incredible array of cosmetics. chanel. bobbi brown. estee lauder. elizabeth arden. lancome. they were all there. knowing it was really rude and naughty, but unable to resist, i chose a lipgloss from the jostling throng and leaned forwards to steal some with trembling hands.

"what are you doing? what the hell do you think you are doing?" a man's voice boomed out from behind me. shat myself? it's a good job i was in the bathroom. i turned around slowly, only to find that the parrot had been hidden away in the bathroom so he wasn't all disturbed and upset by the party.

"put that down!" he concluded beadily. don't tell me those damn birds don't understand every word they say...
( rachelswipe with a fork, Mon 24 Sep 2007, 16:59, Reply)

licky dog
I was once playing with a rather beautiful border collie. in her overexcitement and genral dogginess she jumped up at me and licked my face.

the dog owner, girl of eight, piped up "You shouldn't let bronwen lick your face, she might have just been licking her bum." yeah thanks for that kid.
(blondesmithp, Mon 24 Sep 2007, 16:53, Reply)

Chastised by a fireman
Many moons ago when living in halls of residence at uni, I awoke one bitterly cold winters morning at about 7am to prepare for lectures.

I entered the kitchen to discover a strong burning smell and more smoke than a Queen video. I raced through the thick, acrid cloud to the windows and flung them open. I then turned and raced to the source of the smoke, the toaster. I unplugged it, dashed an the open window and shook it until is disgorged its contents onto to frosty grass below.

Alas it was too late, the fire alarm went off. This awoke approximately 250 students and they all had to evacuate to the central courtyard area, where they stood freezing their tits off in various states of undress, understandably pissed off to a man.

Minutes later a fire engine arrived and an announcement was made the residents of our flat to assemble near the scene of the crime. We made our way forward to groans, jeers, evil stares, profanities and curses on our lives and those of our family members from the cold, dishevelled mob in the courtyard.

The fireman asked who discovered the fire, I stepped forward and told him what I'd encountered. He tried to accuse me of sticking a fork into the toaster but I told him that I'm not that stupid, told him I'd shaken out the burnt offering and pointed to the black, carbon like object outside the flat window.

He then asked, in full view of the angry and now shivering uncontrollably throng, who'd put the toaster on. Nervously, full of shame and embarrassment, my flatmate and Essex girl Lucy raised her hand and meekly squeaked, "It was me". She'd put a huge slice of previously uncut bread in the toaster, too thick for it to pop out, and buggered off.

She then got a lengthy, patronising and withering dressing down from the fireman in front of all the other incensed residents on the stupidity of her actions. I however got no praise for my quick thinking, swift, brave and heroic fire disaster averting actions.

I mean a statue of me might have been a fitting tribute. Or at least a plaque.
( abefroman skating on the thin life of modern life on, Mon 24 Sep 2007, 16:46, Reply)

It's good day from me
I'm spending a miserable rainy day in the garden, laying a new drain pipe. It's vile, and my mood wasn't improved when, as I was trying to lift out a privet bush, my fork snapped. No spare. Bugger it.

So in I drove to my friendly local hardware shop, approached the counter and asked if they sold (everything so far guaranteed true) fork handles. Boy, what an unfriendly reception I got. Still can't see why. He wouldn't even let me stay for the next item on my list, and I really need a new hose (this bit dictated to me by The Voices, may be less reliable).
(ubergeekian, Mon 24 Sep 2007, 16:46, Reply)

Tailgating
I was driving down the M11 very early one morning in my artic, far too close to the artic in front. I was tired, but it isn't an excuse.
Anyhoo, Plod lit me up and pulled me over. Instant acknowledgement of crime and fervent grovelling. He grunted, and then said this:

"Do you carry a picture of a loved one on you, sir?"

"Er, yeah"

"May I see it please?"

Hoick out piccie of LittleScars, who was about 3 then.

"Try and imagine the look on her face when she hears her daddy isn't coming home. Drive safely , Sir".

Size? I could 'ave crept down a mousehole.
(all my scars face forward possesses 2.5% of a hyperalloy combat chassis, Mon 24 Sep 2007, 16:45, Reply)

I was told off...
.. for posting to a Christian Website's guest book with a dubious posting.

They were praying to be able to bear kids even though they'd been spayed or neutered or whatever you do to American Mid-western women who are too thick to hold their heads up straight let alone bear kids.

I put an entry similar to "Oh sorry I thought this was the chicks with dicks site" and made some comments about their family trees all being a straight line.

They logged our public IP which resulted in our IT director (the owner of the IP range on RIPE) being mailed about abuse, and he checked the firewall finding my access to that website at the right time.

I got a stern telling off, about respecting other people's viewpoints and not being rude and defamatory, to which I responded quite innocently, "But Jim, they ARE all inbred hicks with no necks and webbed feet."
(Vic Flange, Mon 24 Sep 2007, 16:45, Reply)

QOTW
can some one please bollock me for starting an alternative thread? I had meant for people to message me, so the rest of you considered yourselves told off and go and sit outside the headmasters office. NOW BOY!!
(The kneeling rifleman Is slowly getting there.., Mon 24 Sep 2007, 16:40, Reply)

Disasterprone
Give it 10 minutes, it'll go back on subject again.....
(Vic Flange, Mon 24 Sep 2007, 16:38, Reply)

Has the QOTW
come to a premature end, with only a few posts on-topic?

Odd, I thought this would be an ace QOTW stimulating a lot of answers...

Should we leave this board and hit /talk?
( disasterprone "Pyjamas caused the Holocaust", Mon 24 Sep 2007, 16:38, Reply)

I thought for a dreadful second
that Lunar Jim was going to say "children" instead of "skinny girls".

Now that would have been a reason for a good telling off...
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Mon 24 Sep 2007, 16:36, Reply)

Even though this is getting more like the 'Top Tips' QOTW...

Weight loss - there's the easy way and the hard way. Cutting down on your food, exercise, laxatives etc yah yah, they're all great and do-able. But if you cut out the beer - ALL OF IT - you lose weight faster than a rocket-powered cheetah on steroids.

I can really vouch for this...I have yo-yoed with my weight like a well.....yo-yo, before I finally let booze win and now I weigh a metric tonne.

I feel for you Smiler. Especially if you're an army type...ouch
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Mon 24 Sep 2007, 16:33, Reply)

Do you know how to make your willy look bigger?
Only ever have sex with skinny girls..

Am I right? Am I right?
(Vic Flange, Mon 24 Sep 2007, 16:33, Reply)

Weightloss
Actually your willy not only looks bigger, it will actually be bigger - increased bloodflow will cause a harder, bigger erection.
(Seance Trumpet has got no beef with a man enjoying a croissant, Mon 24 Sep 2007, 16:31, Reply)

Cost was not a factor
specified by the original questioner...

Nor was health...
( disasterprone "Pyjamas caused the Holocaust", Mon 24 Sep 2007, 16:30, Reply)

I tried laxatives
To lose weight.. Worked ok for a while, you cut your meal portions down a bit, as K2K6 suggests, but then you start pissing rusty water out of your arse pretty well permanently.

I lost a stone, but not before my colon was burned like a Vietnamese field covered in Napalm, and I could shit through the eye of a needle without splashing the sides.

No more laxatives for me.. I'll stick to the Valium from now on.
(Vic Flange, Mon 24 Sep 2007, 16:29, Reply)

Sheffield
Saturday night, just been to a gig. Was waiting outside Dante's seventh circle of hell (Flares?) for taxi back to Chesterfield. Pissed up chav woman grunts 'you know where [insert famous hotel name here] is???'
I remember seeing said hotel from the railway station earlier (this was before a 10 minute taxi journey into the unknown and a further 8 pints of lager) so, trying to be helpful, I reply...
Me: "Yes, from the railway station you cant miss it"
Bitch: "We aint near no fuckin station"
Me: "Then no, I have no idea where the said hotel is, sorry".
She then proceded to tell the whole street what an utter cunt I was (including 3 random girls that the silly wench referred to me as their boyfriend). All this whilst I kept wiping her lovely phlegm from my glasses. I felt thoroughly put in my place. Theres a time and place for sarcasm and that wasnt it. Fuck her, I hope she slept in a ditch!
(loismustdie, Mon 24 Sep 2007, 16:27, Reply)

Weight loss
Having women troubles is absolutely guaranteed to make you lose shitloads of weight in no time. Last time I had lady-issues I lost a stone and a half in three weeks.

And I didn't have much going spare in the first instance...
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Mon 24 Sep 2007, 16:26, Reply)

You could also try...
... home butchery for weight loss.
Nothing sheds the pounds quite as effectively as removing a leg, or buttock.
And then there's the sweeeeeet tasty offal..
(Vic Flange, Mon 24 Sep 2007, 16:23, Reply)

Smoking crack
doesn't make your willy look bigger though!

And it costs more [the Scot speaks]
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Mon 24 Sep 2007, 16:23, Reply)

Or smoking crack
and taking pills and amphetamines will se the weight drop off...
( disasterprone "Pyjamas caused the Holocaust", Mon 24 Sep 2007, 16:21, Reply)

Weight loss
I lost lots of weight a few years back. It's not that hard. In fact, all you need is willpower and the patented K2k6 diet plan, which is:

Eat less.

Seriously. Halve the size of your portions at mealtimes. Don't eat between meals. If you feel hungry go and have a drink of water. You'll also burn up some fat by having to run to the toilet so often!

A side benefit of losing weight is that your willy appears bigger. Maybe it's just because you can see more of it past your receding gut, and obviously this doesn't apply to women, but still.

Anyone who doesn't agree with any of this can give me a telling off.

[feeble attempt to remain on topic]
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Mon 24 Sep 2007, 16:18, Reply)

Big Girls Blouse...
I'll volunteer, What have you done wrong that you'd like to be reprimanded in a condescending way then?
(Vic Flange, Mon 24 Sep 2007, 16:11, Reply)

sledging
I've just been for a medical and the army doc has bollocked me for putting on two stone (28 pounds or 14kg BTW if anyone has any good ideas to loose weight fast I want to know ) scince I left the mob.
What the fuck have you been doing smiler, reservists have a duty to stay in shape etc etc.
I could only think of Shane Warnes infamous sledge and replied
"it's not my fault sir, everytime I fuck your daughter she gives me biscuits"
am I in the shite house when I get back in to uniform. still 39 days to go....
(The kneeling rifleman Is slowly getting there.., Mon 24 Sep 2007, 16:10, Reply)