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This is a question Twattery

Nigella Pussycat says: Tell us about utter twats doing remarkably twatty things. Or have you ever done something really twattish to a friend, loved one or pet? In summary: Twats

(, Thu 12 Apr 2012, 13:30)
Pages: Popular, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

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(, Thu 12 Apr 2012, 19:27, 6 replies)
Never drench the inspector.
One of my closest friends works for the county as a plan review engineer in the commercial department. Among his duties he sometimes is called upon to do site visits and inspections, which he normally books for the later part of the week when most of his mandatory meetings have been done.

One of the largest projects going on in the county at this point is a multi-billion dollar banking center being constructed by one of the world's biggest banks. It's a multistory building, and at certain stages inspections must be done throughout the building. As it was going to be a long inspection, Richard went out there first thing in the morning, planning to be there for most of the day.

He parked outside of the site, put on his blaze yellow vest and white hardhat, collected his plans and other papers, and walked down the construction road. There was plenty of site work being done, so he didn't hear the truck approach from behind as he was almost to the building, but was walking along the edge of the road for safety. The truck pulled up alongside him, and the driver waited until he was almost past Richard before blowing his horn and waving.

The truck was the water truck, which sprays non-potable water (meaning old stormwater pumped in from some swampy area) over the construction roads to keep down dust. The blast on the horn and the wave coincided with Richard getting blasted with a couple hundred gallons of swamp water.

Richard turned around and calmly walked to his car, where he took off his boots and poured out filth. The fire inspector was going by, so Richard called out, "Hey, are you going to see the general contractor?"

"Yeah, I'm on my way there.... are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Tell him that the entire site just failed inspection and is now shut down until we re-inspect."

What this translates to is that the 250 plus people who work the site around the clock were forced to do nothing until Richard came back to that site. This was last Friday, and I believe he had to go to a training seminar for the first part of the week. He may be back by now, but I'm not sure of that.

Total cost of being a twat and hosing down the county inspector with swamp water: probably in excess of $50,000, if Richard returned today.

Not hearing directly from the contractor, but hearing through the grapevine that he was shitting himself while he waits like a spanked puppy for Richard to re-appear: priceless.
(, Thu 12 Apr 2012, 18:59, 16 replies)
Summer job helping out at a country fair...
Twat screams onto the car park (read field) in an escort with a ridiculous (and very low) body kit scattering parents and children in all directions in a flight for their lives. I flag said twat down and politely ask him if he'd slow down and warn him that the fields not very flat. He promptly told me to do something unspeakable to myself and sped off......


Twat climbs out of his car, walks round the back to retrieve the now detached (and mangled cos he ran over it) front half of his body kit and proceeds to cram it in the boot of his escort....before deciding to leave.
(, Thu 12 Apr 2012, 18:54, Reply)
Ex father-in-law.
On the day my former mother-in-law died, her hubby decided that he would demonstrate his grief by driving to the pub to get poleaxed, leaving me and my by then estranged missus to sort out the minor details, like arranging the funeral and putting her finances in order. You know, that tedious shite that always gets in the way when a loved one decides they quite fancy the idea of being placed in a wooden box rather than have to endure yet another family gathering with Aunty Jean, who talks in some strange and indecipherable language and looks like she's put her make up on with a rusty trowel. Blindfolded.

And so it was that we spent the best part of the day sorting things out, getting a bit emotional, arguing with some jobsworth bank cashier about how we were quite happy to sort out her finances at the counter rather than make an appointment to come back and be seen in a private room, speaking to the undertaker. The boring stuff.

If buggering off and leaving your distraught daughter to deal with the aftermath isn't twattish enough, what happened next topped it off like a glittery dogshit. The ex's mobile rang. It was the Police. Can she confirm that Alan Bell is her father? Yes? OK, they're holding him at Bedlington Police Station... turns out that he had decided, on returning from the pub, to park up outside (and illegally) the fishmongers to buy himself a crab for dinner. This had caught the attention of a passing plod, who duly began noting down the number, at which point my father-in-law emerged from the shop, saw what the copper was doing and began to give him a mouthful of abuse.

This is not a good idea at the best of times, but to do it when you've had a skinful AND are very obviously about to try and get back in a car is an even less than bright move. Naturally, on receiving a load of verbal accompanied by a backdraft of purest 40% abv, PC Sensible made to remove the keys from his grasp. So my father-in-law punched him and, for his troubles, found his face becoming intimately acquainted with the roof of his car.

My ex was less than chuffed to be on the receiving end of this call, and, on being asked to drive over to the station to collect him informed them, in no uncertain terms, that the very last thing she was inclined to do was to go and bail out her father after spending the day sorting out her just-that-day deceased mum's affairs whilst he galivanted around Northumberland getting pissed and looking for crabs. "As far as I'm concerned", she said, "you can bloody well keep him there". So they did, for about another three hours before another family member eventually gave in and went to collect him, whilst I went to retrieve his car.

What an absolute fuck knuckle.
(, Thu 12 Apr 2012, 18:10, 9 replies)
Compounding the misery
After a long and stressful week, I'm sat on the 6:15pm train home on a Friday, having finally reached the sanctuary of the weekend. Quick call to the missus who - bless her cotton socks - confirms there's a beer waiting for me when I get home and a lovely steak for dinner.

Twenty minutes into a forty minute journey, the train stops outside a station and the driver comes on the tannoy to announce that some poor soul has thrown himself under the train in front of us. Sadly this is not the first time either I or my fellow passengers have experienced such a thing so the carriage is soon buzzing with calls being made to relatives explaining we're probably in for an hour-long delay.

The train driver is excellent, keeping us regularly updated on the situation so no-one gets overly frustrated at the delay. After forty minutes he explains that the line ahead has been closed indefinitely, so he's been given approval to walk the length of the train and take us back to the station before where we can join a different line. Everyone around me seems satisfied that the guy is doing everything he can and we'll probably be home an hour late.

As the driver is walking along the tracks to the cab at the other end of the train, two twats decide they've had enough waiting and pull the emergency door release, jump down onto the tracks and leap over the fence. When the driver reaches the cab, he has to call for help from the station to firstly search the tracks to ensure the twats are no longer on it, and then to reset the train (which takes three attempts and plunges us into darkness for long periods).

The net results of such utter twatishness is that we finally arrive at our original destination at 11:20pm.

I really hope the two selfish tossers who ruined our evenings were caught on CCTV. They should be made to aid the clean-up process of the next unfortunately who takes his/her life on the tracks.
(, Thu 12 Apr 2012, 17:52, 2 replies)
I recently sent the following text to some friends
"I am sitting opposite the very definition of a fuck-haired twat-about-town. He has an Elvis quiff, a blue naval jacket, pink pedal pusher trousers, and "Vegetarian Shoes" leather-effect sandals. He is playing on a music-making programme on his iPad (Bose headphones) - I know this because he's sitting at an angle and leaning that far forward that we can all see it."
(, Thu 12 Apr 2012, 17:47, 2 replies)

(, Thu 12 Apr 2012, 17:09, 3 replies)
A relative of mine
I think she's sort of my dad's second cousin (she's my great aunt's daughter).

Anyway. My great aunt was a lovely old lady who, for the last five or so years of her life, shared her cosy little cottage with a fella - she was divorced and he was a widower, and being in their seventies, they didn't want to bother with the formality of remarrying. They really, really should have...

She had complications from a nasty accident, and unfortunately died in hospital, rather unexpectedly (she was quite sprightly). This is where it gets twattish.

Her daughter first of all asked my dad to contribute towards the funeral. This was a bit odd because 1) It wasn't his mother, 2) weird relative is apparently quite well off, and 3) Ted (Auntie's bloke) found out about it, and rang my dad to let him know that Auntie had a policy to cover the costs of the funeral and there was absolutely no need for anyone to be giving her daughter any money.

Secondly, she told Ted to move out of the cottage. Now - this is actually understandable, and it had been left to her in the will, etc. However, she asked him to move out within the week - so he was having pack his stuff up and arrange to move in with relatives whilst also preparing for the funeral!

Thirdly, after Ted had moved out, she wanted to sell the house as soon as possible, so she ignored my father's request to be able to pick a few things up from there (Auntie had held onto a load of old family photos and such from my Grandmother's house after she'd died a few years before), and just threw everything in a skip. EVERYTHING. Including some of Ted's possessions that he'd been foolish enough to hope she'd let him go back later in the week and collect.

This means that my Dad lost lots and lots of his Mum's stuff, as well as older family heirlooms. When he contacted said Relative again and asked her if he could at least have copies of any old photos she'd kept, she told him flatly that it 'was all rubbish' and she'd thrown it away.

Naturally, this drove a rift between the two sides of the family and my Dad didn't speak to her for years...

Until, out of the blue, she phoned him to ask if he'd mind putting her and her daughter up for a weekend so she could attend a party near his home.

He told her to fuck off.
(, Thu 12 Apr 2012, 16:47, 5 replies)
Utter twats you've never met - that want to help you...
A few weeks ago a guy asked my friend and I to meet up in the pub to talk about a new website we had just launched.

He'd read a bit about it and possibly even spoken to someone about it. He said we were 'his kinda guys'.

After telling us what we were doing wrong and how he could help, my friend asked, "What did you like about the site?".

He had never been on the site.


I had to spend 2 pints in his company.
(, Thu 12 Apr 2012, 16:39, 2 replies)

(, Thu 12 Apr 2012, 16:30, 6 replies)
I would have thought it obvious.
(, Thu 12 Apr 2012, 16:24, 7 replies)
I sometimes post a TOAP image on /board.

(, Thu 12 Apr 2012, 15:26, 4 replies)
Not me, but a bloke I know sometimes makes making mocking comments on a forum for people to tell humorous stories.

(, Thu 12 Apr 2012, 15:26, 5 replies)
Laurence Llewelyn Bowen
I found myself at the grand opening of a new Holiday Village in which Laurence Llewelyn Bowen was the special guest. During the day everyone had to be split into colour coded groups and given a guided tour.

When asked which group I was in I announced "oh, I'm in the red group", to which Laurence Llewelyn Bowen quipped "It's not RED it's CERISE".

I stared at him until the word TWAT shot violently to the forefront of my mind, ignored his twattish remark and proceeded to join the 'RED' group ready for the tour.
(, Thu 12 Apr 2012, 15:18, 6 replies)
I encountered one of these recently:
People on internet forums who complain that people say things on internet forums that they wouldn't say in real life.
(, Thu 12 Apr 2012, 15:18, 2 replies)
Carrot munching inbred twattery
On the A14 in a looooooong queue, wondering what the cause was. After a good half-hour of stop start driving I got to the front of the queue.
On the OTHER SIDE of the road there was a burnt-out garage - apparently it had been burning for most of the night. However, the REAL cause of the holdup, and I kid you not, was pickup truck stopped in the outside lane with the driver (a dungaree wearing carrot muncher) staring at the wreckage of the garage! As people got past him there were a few choice words spoken to him by most of the drivers - me included. And his reply? Bearing in mind he's stopped IN THE OUTSIDE LANE OF ONE OF THE BUSIEST ROADS IN THE UK?
"I dunno whaaat's wrong with you people, I's only lookin' "

And they let these types vote AND breed.
(, Thu 12 Apr 2012, 15:01, 7 replies)
one of our blonde office admins left to do a degree in Nursing
The other thought it would be a nice gesture to make a leaving card rather than just buy one.

So she fires up the work internet connection and does a google image search for "blonde nurse".

The results were VERY twatty.

She decided to buy a card instead.
(, Thu 12 Apr 2012, 14:58, 2 replies)
Wow. QOTW has sunk to a new low.
Twat! Fuck! Twat! Fuck! Twatty Twat Twat!
(, Thu 12 Apr 2012, 14:48, 4 replies)
I found out where Dr Shambolic lived and took a massive dump on his front lawn, put a cherry on top and ran away laughing.

(, Thu 12 Apr 2012, 14:33, 9 replies)
Heh Twattery
It sounds like a rescue home for down on their luck hookers
(, Thu 12 Apr 2012, 14:16, 6 replies)
The old man living next door is being a twatmonger of the highest order at the moment.
His milk bottles and news papers are piling up so much they are starting to make a mess on my lawn.
(, Thu 12 Apr 2012, 14:06, 4 replies)
Don't you just hate it - you're driving down a motorway or major road, suddenly the traffic comes to a standstill. Minutes, even hours are spent with traffic shuffling along at 5 miles an hour.

"Must be a bad accident" you think to yourself.

It is - on the other TWATTING side of the motorway. Traffic is fucked in the direction you are going as everyone slows down to take a look.

(, Thu 12 Apr 2012, 14:05, 4 replies)
A tale of two twats
A couple of years ago I was in London, and had a client meeting at 10. My train was late getting in, but I would just make it if the tubes all turned up on time.

As a train entered the station and rolled to a halt, I was all braced to get through the crowd of passengers and get a space. But then, there was a cry of alarm at the far end of the platform. Looking, I was just in time to see a man run backwards at inhuman speed, smack into the wall and then crumple down like a sack of potatoes.

As a crowd of people scurried towards the figure, all I could think was 'You selfish twat!'. It made me considerably late, and it wasn't for a few days that I felt a tinge of concern for the man.
(, Thu 12 Apr 2012, 14:03, 8 replies)
The basically twats
I have had enough of all the twatting twats saying twatting "basically" all the twatting time.

Do they not know that it makes them sound like twatting retards?

(, Thu 12 Apr 2012, 13:55, 11 replies)

(, Thu 12 Apr 2012, 13:47, Reply)
What do you mean by twatty?
Stupid or Evil? You haven't really thought this through, have you?
(, Thu 12 Apr 2012, 13:46, 7 replies)
Watching Doctor Who on my laptop, in the pub. And discussing it via headset, to other Doc fans. With someone at least as twattish as myself.
Or maybe that's just geekery.
(, Thu 12 Apr 2012, 13:44, 3 replies)
"I do"

(, Thu 12 Apr 2012, 13:35, 4 replies)
what a twat!!!
(, Thu 12 Apr 2012, 13:34, Reply)

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