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This is a question Being told off as an adult

When was the last time you were properly told off? You know: treated as an errant child rather than the sophisticated adult you are.

The sort of thing that dredges up an involuntary teenage mumble of "Sorry, Miss" whilst you stare at the ground.

Go on, tell us what childish thing you were up to when you got caught.

Oh, and can we have more than one-line answers this time? Cheers!

(, Thu 20 Sep 2007, 17:18)
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This question is now closed.

This happened many years ago
Infact it's about a friend of my dads, back in University days in Swansea in the late 50s.

Howell, was walking back from the pub one night a little worse for wear, when he decided it would be a good idea to climb a lamp post.
Fair play, he maanged to get to the top in his drunken state, but as he was admiring the view he heard a stern voice from ground level.

"Oi! You there!"

He looked down to see a man in a familiar blue uniform.

"Get down NOW!"

He carefully did so

"Right! You follow me."

So off they went in the direction of the police station.
After about a mile, Howell realised it was infact a bus conductor.
(, Wed 26 Sep 2007, 0:06, Reply)
Hmm....Which time
I get told off all the time. Latest was from my next door neighbours, get this - for talking too loud in the back garden.

Fair enough it was 3 am but the cheeky cows had Celine Dion blaring full whack from their shitty hi-fi in the front room. This is the cheap, tacky style system which a fart is usually louder than.

I felt like a right 8 year old getting told off. Maybe it was the nurses uniform or the fact I just want to nail the pair of them.

Length - usually 9" when I see 'em in the uniforms ;)
(, Wed 26 Sep 2007, 0:06, Reply)
I was recently told off for putting my feet on the seat on the train home, by someone vaguely official.

I asked him why.

'It's dirty and unhealthy,' he replied.

I pointed out to him that unless anyone was planing on actually licking the seats, my clean and un-muddy shoes would probably not cause a great deal of harm.

In the end I acquiesced, because he threatened to throw me off, but I felt slightly bad about giving in to such a pompous jobsworth who had absolutely no justification , so obviously the moment he left I put my feet back on the seat, and, having checked he wasn't looking, bravely gave him the finger.

That'll show him.
(, Wed 26 Sep 2007, 0:01, Reply)
A Quickie
I teach English to immigrants and one time, an overly serious Polish woman told me off for laughing when her grown-up son explained to me that he lived with his family in a 'bollock of flats'. She was grammatically and phonetically correct in that reprimand, too. Impressive. Obviously not one of my regular students, then ;)
(, Tue 25 Sep 2007, 22:45, Reply)
Cyclist Criminal
I am a cyclist because I'm too bloody useless to take the 29485476575 hours of driving lessons I'd need to not kill anyone on the road through my lack of coordination and piss-poor observation skills.

I once committed the heinous crime of failing to dismount from my bicycle the instant the cycle path ended and chose to pedal a few metres further along the not-so-narrow pavement .

A rather plain and, dare I say, evangelical Christian - dressed woman with popsocks and a face like a smacked arse admonished me with a stern 'LAW BREAKER!' as I cycled past her.

I'd have felt more guilty and would have apologised like a mature adult had I not been giggling away to myself like a 6 year old retard over the speech impediment that had affected the way she pronounced her 'r' sounds.

Had I been a quick thinker, I could have replied with a chirpy 'sowwy', but oh well, I was the one in the wrong and so I did the good thing and just dismounted.
(, Tue 25 Sep 2007, 22:08, Reply)
Park Wardens
Just remembered another one.

I'm a post grad at a top uni in the UK. My friend (also a post grad) and I were in the University run parks over the summer and found two good sized sticks. Naturally we started having a sword fight, until we were stopped and bollocked by a park warden about how we were 'setting a bad example for children'.

We're both PhD candidates *blushes*
(, Tue 25 Sep 2007, 22:02, Reply)
As a student in sheffield...
I regularly got trashed. I also had a possibly irrational hatred of the Hallamshire Hospital (I can only assume that this was a byproduct of what was just the start of a 4 year period of depression, hallucinations and voices). Anyway, we'd been out to one of the union nights at Sheffield Uni, and I'd had a lot to drink. I don't remember too much but I remember staggering up the Glossop Road, aged 20, blind drunk, muttering to myself, eating a hawaiian pizza, dropping bits of said pizza on to my shirt. My friends we about 50 yards ahead of me by the time I reached the Hallamshire Hospital.

The hospital has a low wall and a sloping lawn in between it and the road. Being drunk and slightly unbalanced, and filled with a righteous (if almost certainly unjustified) hatred towards the sheer concrete architecture of the place, I climbed up on the wall and proceeded to drunkenly throw pizza at the hospital.

Everything was going well, until the screech of brakes behind me was followed by a strong Sheffield accent demanding to know "what the fuck are you doing?". As I tried to turn around to see what who it was I fell off the wall and landed face down in the mud, the pizza was smeared all over my face, and my trousers were ruined.

Two very burly Sheffield policemen got out of their car, walked over, and told me to pick up all of my pizza, which I did - crawling through the mud and gibbering to myself - before propping me up against the wall and shouting at me for about 10 mins (I have no memory of what they said). What I gathered from my friends the next day was that they had threatened to arrest me (entirely fair really) and then when it became obvious that I was far too gone to understand anything they were saying simply told me to fuck off home (my friends were pissing themselves with laughter just up the street). Apparently I then crawled up the road, apologising profusely, and put the pizza in a bin.

Still hate the architecture of the Hallamshire, though I guess that doesn't really justify assault by pizza.
(, Tue 25 Sep 2007, 21:58, Reply)
Pooflake: cutting up a couple in a smallish hatchback?
That wasn't about 40 miles south of Glasgow was it? A small red car you horsed out in front of? It might very well have been me...
(, Tue 25 Sep 2007, 21:06, Reply)
Silly videos
At my old Boreding college, I found the delights of Windows Movie maker. I rapidly began making silly films about college, either students, staff or things that happened. This got me in a little bother, since they were all very poor taste, sweary, insulting...I really should post them on B3ta, but I might get sued. One film was about a girl who had made saucy comments involving bondage to a lad. So I madea film about her, and these exploits. Months passed, and I was suddenly summoned to my housemaster. Turned out it had been found, seen by the senior management types and I was told never to do it again. I actually felt bad, as my housemaster was a brilliant bloke, who didn't even need raise his voice.
Still made more rude films though :)
Length? Between 1 an 5 minutes, it is hard to do stop-frame animation in Moviemaker
(, Tue 25 Sep 2007, 20:24, Reply)
My daughter told me off last week...
Apparently I'm a rather poor excuse for a father- or at least that was how I felt as my daughter was going off on me over a variety of things, from the fact that I had to get rid of one of our dogs (when I say get rid of, I mean bring her back to the friend I had gotten her from, not taken to the pound) for tearing up our house and yard to the fact that my girlfriend had slept in her bed a couple of times while she was away (my live-in girlfriend, who was having troubles at the time with insomnia and couldn't sleep with me snoring). She went into a full melt-down with lots of weeping, and I went to the bathroom to get her a box of tissues and a trash can once she had wound down a little. As she wiped her eyes I felt lower than dogshit.

Then she blew her nose so hard that she forced out a fart loud enough to be heard outside.

We sat there looking at each other for a moment, both struggling to keep a straight face, then gave up and laughed like hell...
(, Tue 25 Sep 2007, 18:11, Reply)
I'm GrandMasterFluffle's (ex)colleague (moved jobs, but still have same filthy sense of humour), and got hauled into the conference room just after she did. Same sort of conversation, except he pulled the whole "I'm really disappointed in you BobFossil, you realise that this will make me rethink the plans that I had for you" (talking about promotions), and I had to spend a solid 15 minutes telling him that we didn't hate him, we didn't call him fantapants, and that we were only emailing those things across to each other because of the similarities (the fantapants nickname apparently referred to someone's boss who was short, ginger and Australian. Our boss is short, ginger and Australian). He asked us to stop going on b3ta after that; I think he thinks the entire website is a conspiracy against him.
(, Tue 25 Sep 2007, 18:05, Reply)
Being told off by a twat...
I am employed to drive around in a big van with blue lights and (allegedly) help the sick & injured (or just plain drunk usually). Whilst solo on one said van, I had to fill it up with diesel (it even nags me to put diesel in, not petrol, in a very loud irritating voice, because my bosses think I'm a fckwit). As I pull onto the garage forecourt, the emergency mobile phone rings. Remembering that the Govnmt want me to respond within 30 secs, or I can spend days explaining why I didn't to the same bosses that don't trust me to fill up with the correct fuel, I answer the damn phone. Over the very loud tannoy comes the grating voice of Shell employee of the year "Oi, you can't use that phone here, it's dangerous"
I hang up & attend said emergency before returning to same garage to refuel. As I pay for the fuel I am subjected to a red faced tirade about the dangers of using a mobile near a petrol pump, they explode you know!
Of course, reading about the dozens of exploding filling stations that occur weekly in the UK due to this very thing, has prepared me for this, and I should hang my head in shame and stand in a pool of my own piss for being so thoughtless of others safety.
As I get in the Amblnce to drive away, the cnut only comes out and sparks up a ciggie less than 2m from the nearest pump, making me realise once and for all that figures of authority deserve nothing but contempt and I really must learn not to wee myself when told off by an adult as I might catch fire or explode.

length: about 6m, not forgetting to leave room for the tail-lift (Kerrrunch...oops!)
(, Tue 25 Sep 2007, 17:55, Reply)
Trudging through Brum town centre with my then jMinnie giving me endless earache about being a poor boyfriend (I was) I turned to respond but instead of a witty comeback I emitted the loudest burp I have ever produced! The echo from the buildings adding to the effect.

Several groups of people coming the opposite direction cracked up. She was silent for a second, looked surprised then dissapointed, then mortified and started hitting me with her handbag. I apologised profusely, however couldn't wipe the smile from my face.

We are no longer an item.

length: about 7 seconds of reverberating flatulence.
(, Tue 25 Sep 2007, 17:26, Reply)
Back when the "nicknames" QOTW was going on, a fellow b3tard colleague and I were having a lot of fun with it seeing as our boss was short and ginger with despotic tendencies.

Actually he was a nice guy. But fellow b3tard and I spent a very pleasant Friday afternoon emailing one another ginger-based nicknames anyway:

carrot top hahahaha!
ginger nut hahahaa!
rusty gusset mwahahaha!
fantapants mwahahahaa!
agent orange mwhahahahahaaaaaa!

On Monday morning, I was hauled into the conference room by the boss.

The Boss: Is everything ok?
Me: Yes...
The Boss: I mean, we're cool, right?
Me: Yes...
The Boss: There isn't anything you want to talk to me about? Anything you're unhappy about?
Me: No...
The Boss: Then why did you send an email on Friday calling me a ginger wanker?


I even had to keep a straight face as he asked me, "Fantapants - do you think that's funny???"

Sorry boss :-)
(, Tue 25 Sep 2007, 17:22, Reply)
As a Smoker and therefore "wrong" I am fair game to be treated like an idiot by all non smokers. Patronising comments are:-

"You do know those are bad for you" - Yes I can read the warnings on the packs, can remember the radio and TV adverts and have been repeatedly told by "concerned" busybodies. Or maybe I need pictures on the packets.

"You can't smoke that in here" - I sometimes have an unlit cigarette in my mouth at work or on the train ready to light when the task/journey is done and I have stepped outside. I had worked in the same job for four years and NEVER smoked in the building, yet sometimes even the production of a packet elicited this response.

Friends tell their children about "bad jMaxi and his nasty cigarettes" and encourage them to tell me off - I have even had a picture drawn of me and my nasty smoke!

Yes they smell, yes they are unhealthy but I am taxed to poverty and am unlikely to be as much of a burden on the NHS as the non smokers living for ages with dementia/other age related diseases tying up all that wealth.

And for all you hippies Josstick smoke is as unhealthy as passive smoke (but smells better).

Length: two inches of ash
(, Tue 25 Sep 2007, 17:13, Reply)
Booze! Fountains! Speedos! Armbands!
I'd been drinking. With Danny. We drove to Meadowhall Shopping Centre with mischief on our minds.

Concealed cunningly beneath our clothes were speedos and in our bags were armbands (ready inflated) and rubber ducks.

We stripped and jumped into the fountains, got our equipment out and played at paddling and splashing.

We were removed with extreme prejudice and given a bollocking by security.
(, Tue 25 Sep 2007, 16:59, Reply)
Teh Kitten! I was stroking.. Him! I made to make a move to go to work! He batted me.
yes. my kitten, in his own fwuffy way, admonished me for leaving home to make money to keep his bowl full of science plan and not hanging around to tickle him under his chin and let him know just how cute and fwuffy he really is.

which he is

made me feel bad anyway.
(, Tue 25 Sep 2007, 16:58, Reply)
When Quentin Wilson off of Top Gear Told off this bloke
Remembered this as I walked down the street this morning

I'd been awake for two days and one night too many and everything looked better, everything except for me. Everything looked as if I was looking at it underwater. And everything felt wet, too. As if I'd drank so much that it was seeping out of my toenails and cuticles. Behind me, in the chaos, I knew I'd left a series of sodden footprints. But I didn't care. I was happy because I knew that when I sobered up I'd have forgotten everything but for the loneliness of the neon of the city at night, and the way the cold emptiness I'd felt at the parties had felt just the same as bored hunger. I'd chuck my wet clothes in the bin and then, when the hangover went, it would prove to me that she'd never be able to hurt me again. (wrong! Wrong! WRONG!). Oh, W****!

I was in Night and Day in Oldham Street in Manchester. I was sitting there as the frigid smile of the virgin new-year sunshine shone on the slush and the empty kebab wrappers. Smoke from the high tar cigarette spiraled as languid as an upper class lie, and the drink tasted as earnest as a promise made at midnight. And I enjoyed the contradiction.

I felt fucking good!

Oldham Street was one of the first to be gentrified - warehouses gutted and steralised into neutral boxes for media types to perch in and look down their powder white noses at the proles shivering differently by the bus stops on the streets below.

There was a flurry. Quentin Wilson (http://www.quentinwillson.co.uk/) and a camera crew appeared. He started doing a "piece to camera" about the benefits of living in oldham street. How it was changing. How it was cool. Whatever.

" 's' 'e doing?" a man at the bar asked. Men with too much time on their hands always talk in shortcuts.

"Doing a video. He was here yesterday" said the barmaid. I'd been hoping to impress her with my consumption of gin. But, as with ******, I'd failed.

"Coont" the man said. I loved the way working class mancunians swore. They put more emotion into swearwords than anyone else I'd met. The smoothness of the rounded down letters at odds with the menace of the intent.

The man went out, and as Wilson continued, and walked down the road, shouted:

"Wilson. Wanker". That's it. Two words. Bang Bang. Wilson stuttered and muttered and retreated up the street for take two.

I heard him start again and he started again.
And again, as he reached the bar, the man said

"Wilson. Wanker". Now. This fucker was big. He looked like he didn't merely excrete, his shit was so hard it punched a way out.

But Wilson was not awed. Straight over.

"Excuse me" he said. Now, as I say, the gin had decimated me so I can't remember exactly. But the conversation went *something like* this

"Yeah" said the man

"What are you doing" asked Wilson?

"Tekin piss" said the man. But he was like a fucking sandcastle in a tsunami.

"I know you think you're being clever. But I'm a working man. Same as you., Just trying to earn a living, man"

And the man crumbled and apologised. "Sorry man. Sorry" a handshake and adieu.

When Wilson got to the bar for the third time, the man merely waved (we were off Camera, Wilson was on Oldham st outside) I said, softly "Wilson. Wanker" and the barmaid laughed. I thought I was in with her. But when I got up to talk, I realised I wasn't. I wasn't, at all.
(, Tue 25 Sep 2007, 16:50, Reply)
Manners cost nothing
I wouldn't of minded if she'd of at least done it *nicely*

Barging past just becuase you are supposed to have the right? No way.
(, Tue 25 Sep 2007, 16:48, Reply)
Should be a matter of course dude...
Manners cost nothing.
(, Tue 25 Sep 2007, 16:47, Reply)
Has reminded me of my adventures in 'journalism'. I once wrote horoscopes. At first, I rephrased ones from the paper, but then I just started making them up. After a while, my editor didn't even read them anymore. Which is how these got published:


Leopards cannot change their spots, and neither can lepers, but the Sagittarian is adept at adopting new postures and poses. If you are feeling like something the cat dragged in, why not make a whole new start and opt for that gender reassignment therapy you’ve always thought about? Buy more shoes!


Capricorn the goat has little in common with sheep. Not for him the herd, the thoughtless munching of herbivorous matter and contributions of wool – no, the goat stands aloof on the crest of a mountain and sneers down at mankind. And this is why he usually has no friends. Live like a sheep; they’re cuddly!


It takes ten minutes for the light from the Sun to reach the Earth 98 million miles away, but YOU need two hours to get ready in the morning! Try to streamline your time by noting down your daily movements in an accountant’s notebook, documenting what you do every minute. In no time, you’ll have lost all your friends.


Time waits for no man – except the professional clock-winder! Pisceans always find the exception to the rule and exploit it for all it’s worth. Now is the time to invest in those shares you’ve been considering, or the rubberised invention you’ve been itching to patent. Bed-wetters of the world, unite!


Comme ci, comme ça, say the French. Who knows what they are talking about? Aries the ram likes to speak plainly and keep things simple, no matter what the language! This month provides an opportunity to say exactly what you mean, so put on your best telephone voice and begin, “Hell-air …!”


The Ford Taurus may have been one of America’s best-selling mid-size front-wheel- drive cars of the 1980s, but this has absolutely nothing to do with you. You prefer the sedate pleasures of walking hand-in-hand in the park with a loved one – or with a complete stranger who is furiously texting the police as you stroll.


Twins often have a special connection, especially if they are conjoined. Your siblings have always been close to you, unless you are an only child, and they are always the first things on your mind when you wake up. Usually because they owe you money and have just two days to pay up before you call the heavies in.


Cancer kills one in seven people, but canny Cancerians are not about to let that statistic bother them. No – they’ll opt for self-immolation before letting their internal organs rot, or a massive tumour develop in their brain. Laugh at fatal illness this month as you breeze through life with a smile.


Leo Sayer was a popular 1970s crooner with an ill-advised hairstyle and a strangely strangulated falsetto whine. But he wasn’t a Leo, which is something you can be grateful for. Your singing voice is like gravy fresh from the boat and your hair is your crowning glory, unless you are bald.


In virgo veritas, as the Romans didn’t say. Just as well – they were at it like rabbits! You might consider taking up a dead language this month, as global warming means that we will all be reverting to a pre-industrial existence once the fossil fuels run out and declining literacy makes us all vegetables.


Never a borrower nor a lender be. A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. Manners maketh the man. Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country. I have a dream! -- Shakespeare wrote all of these things, but he died in a drunken stupor before he was 60. Cheers!


Serpico was a 1970s film in which Al Pacino played a police officer who refused to countenance corruption in his department. He fought it and earned the lasting enmity of his colleagues before he was finally hailed as a champion of honesty in a dirty world. But he wasn’t a Scorpio.

EDIT: I left before I got told off.
(, Tue 25 Sep 2007, 16:45, Reply)
re: Grow the fuck up
Disaterprone, you seem to be getting off your high horse recently, but as i just said in reply to your Gaz:

If she had asked, then yes. No problem.
I wouldn't of said no.
I object to the rude, barging past (No she didnt do it in a nice way)
I don't mind people taking priority IF THEY DO IT RESPECTFULLY
So please, lay off a bit and pull your thumb out.

Edit: 40 zone, he must of been doing 70 on a corner, approaching traffic lights. It obviously was daddys car. He deserved it.
(, Tue 25 Sep 2007, 16:44, Reply)
Anyone else think pregnant women deserve priority
as they have less stamina and more demands on their body than the rest of us?

Grow the fuck up you IT geek.

Oh, and were you standing in the road with your fingers up I'd have knocked you down. Darwinism, dude... roads are for cars. Anybody dumb enough to play chicken is fair game, as two teenage lads round my way know. Play the cunt and you deserve what's coming.
(, Tue 25 Sep 2007, 16:41, Reply)
London buses
You can confuse people on London buses by saying loudly "Can you PLEASE MOVE DOWN", when there's only a few people on there.
(, Tue 25 Sep 2007, 16:37, Reply)
A Visual telling off.
First, let me set the scene. I am a rather docile being, i'd rather say sorry and avoid a fight if possible. I'm by no means confrontantional. Unless... too many people piss me off.

My day started normally, i managed to get myself to work, then i found out a client network was down. This is bad, as it requires me to do something. I spent the whole morning watching tcpdump and basically being a real geek. My boss thought it was a good idea to *keep* telling me to unpack boxes.

Boxes vs. Client network... hm...

Lets just say i explained the situation nicely, whilst biting my tongue. Anyway, the day continued normally from there, then it was home time and that means only one thing: London Underground.

Now, i'm usually a polite passenger. I let people off, i let people on i don't barge or push (mostly, unless necessary). Unfortunately, the world was against me and unbeknown to me the whole Underground was packed with insidious , evil and generally not nice cnuts.

Let me save you the pain and list my experience:

- Jobsworth telling me to, in a VERY loud voice, NOT WALK NEAR THE TRAIN AS I MIGHT GET KILLED (no shit, sherlock)
- Cnuting 20 something pregnant woman decided, as she was pregnant it was her RIGHT to push past everyone else and get on first.

...Just becuase you're pregnant doesn't make you the dogs bollocks, also just becuase you managed to get knocked up isn't my fault, so why should i sacrifice my "place" for you? Maybe if get pregnant i can get on first? Psh. please fuck off now...

- Some old gent who couldn't get up the staircase becuase his suitcase was too heavy (Yes, i helped him carry it up) but maybe a little more sense next time?
- Some woman who brought SMELLY flowers onto a crowded, overheated train. Thanks. I really REALLY like it when i have Sweat, Grime and POLLEN up my nose.
- A "suit" type, barging his way on the train (overground this time) with his elbows, we wern't even rushing! He just wanted the seat. I hope you fall out of a building and die.

And breathe....

Then, there always has to be some cnut that finished it off isn't there? Oh yes, it was Mr.SmallPenis, in a Mercedes. I was crossing the road (after looking and checking!) and cuntface (for thats what he looked like) was driving way to fast. By now, all thoughts of self preservation have escaped me, i stand my ground... in the middle of the road. With my fingers held high in a "Fuck off" fashion, mainly reserved for the french. He didn't appreciate it, he just stood there cursing. I wish he'd have gotten out of the car. I would have twatted him (or his car, so he has to buy a new cockmobile [thanks for that phrase, it rocks]). Then i got home and my girlfriend calmed me down... so all is well ;) (She's lovely you know)

Length? It must have been very small...

edit: Damn im usually very good with my grammar ;) *hangs head in shame*
(, Tue 25 Sep 2007, 16:33, Reply)
Bad Manners
Whilst accompanying a friend/potential love interest and her precocious seven year old daughter (think the computer from Resident Evil) on a shopping trip (aaargh - the things I do for "love") I found myself abandoned on managed to escape to a bench outside La Senza for a well deserved cig whilst watching the world go by and minding Darling Daughter who was also bored and getting hyper on crisps and fizzy drinks (she didn't smoke).

I was idly contemplating this older gentleman in a somewhat bizzare combination of clashing clothes topped off with shades and a porkpie hat negotiating his way up the road with a stick. He had just drawn alongside when I hear in a loud, peircing voice designed to carry for miles, "Jmaxi - Don't you know it's rude to stare!!".

True, however as I later tried but failed to explain to the little angel - the guy would not have known I was staring as he was blind. *

* it probably is rude to stare at the blind (and unfair)
(, Tue 25 Sep 2007, 16:26, Reply)
Silly old biddy
I was sat in the car while a mate filled up with petrol. It was about 5 degrees C and pouring with rain. As i was sat there I had a quick glance at the SMS that had arrived a few mins earlier. As my mate returned from the cashiers I notice the "colliflower head" from the car on the otherside of the pump wave at her and say something.

Listening harded I heeard "He's not supposed to sue that in here!"

WTF? - silly old bitch was bollocking my mate for me reading a text message. If the car hadn't got electric windows or the keys had been in I would have wound down the window and screamed at her.

Length - as long as the urban myth about exploding petrol stations will last - grrrrr
(, Tue 25 Sep 2007, 16:25, Reply)

This question is now closed.

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