Bob Holness
I fell for the one about Bob Holness being the first James Bond.





Shit, that one was true
Look it up if you don't believe me....
(penrose your dog's got tits, Wed 11 Jan 2006, 9:26, Reply)

Bedd Gelert
No, this is not something you do with a comely Welsh lass. I refer to the story of the Welsh prince and his faithful dog, Gelert. Princey goes out hunting and leaves the dog to care for the baby. Princey gets back to find the baby missing and the dog covered in blood. Princey sees red, kills dog. Then finds baby and a dead wolf. One of the first urban legends I think... from about the 14th Century? Thing is, I've been to Beddgelert and seen the grave.
( jim_bob can herd cats., Wed 11 Jan 2006, 9:23, Reply)

what a drip
I come from a hot, tourist-ridden part of Australia that's famous for its oldfashioned naivete, and I fit right in.

For years, I refused to use the enclosed waterslides at our themeparks, because everyone knew some guys stuck razorblades inside the tubing with bubblegum. (As they were carried down on a torrent of water, natch.)

Until now, I've never questioned how the bubblegum was meant to stick there.
(sesquipedeviant, Wed 11 Jan 2006, 9:18, Reply)

My friend
Actually managed to convince a grown man that Wombles were real.
( Pachey, Wed 11 Jan 2006, 8:52, Reply)

too many to tell: i used to be a bartender, after all.
i used the fake petition prank a few times to alleviate boredom. i think the best one was a petition demanding that the city of toronto not change the name of yonge street (big long 'famous' road, of all stupid things) to pierre elliot trudeau boulevard (probably our best known prime minister of the last century). nothing gets the grump into people like a political teasejob, so i had three pages of signatures in a couple of hours. of course, i was working day bar then, and men who start drinking at 1:00 pm on a regular basis are probably not tough to dupe.

back in university i got a job as a sperm donor (yes, it pays rather well), and several acquanitances got all frothily jealous and applied to the program. they were silly enough to tell me when they applied, so i phoned one of them a few days before i knew they'd be calling him. poor walt...


"hello, this is dr. prankmonster from the fertility clinic. is this walter bimbodink?"

"yes."

"good. i'm sorry to tell you that you were not accepted as a donor, but i do have some questions about your donation. have you ever worked in a nuclear power plant?"

"what?! no!" (quavering voice)

"really? how interesting. maybe your family lived under a large grouping of power lines for many years. is that the situation?"

"god, no! what's going on? what did you find?!"

"well mr. bimbodink, your sperm is rather unusual. in fact, you have the most unusual sperm i've ever seen and i've worked in fertility clinics for over thirty years. you don't have a very old microwave oven, do you? one that's broken some and could be leaking?"

"no! no! no! nothing like that! what's wrong with my sperm?!" (clear panic at this point)

"calm down, please sir, i'm sure there's nothing wrong, but we would like you to bring us another few samples, please. don't use a plastic cup, though -- do you have, say, a couple of metal thermoses? we need to protect our staff. you have most unusual sperm, some have two heads, others are just masses of tails."

"oh my god! yes, i can do that. will it help me? am i sick?"

"you may be, sir, we'll have to run some more tests. no sexual activity for you for a while, though, other than masturbating for us. we need a minimum of three samples, preferably by the end of the day, by tomorrow at 10:00 am at latest. and please tell reception the nature of your sample and why precautions are required to ensure safety."

"ok." (weeping sounds)


poor walt. i think if i were gullible enough to fall for this, i'd have difficulty jacking off three times in a short span of time while being worried i was spiderfuckingman. i phoned him later to tell him everything was fine, but i would have paid a hundred butter tarts to have seen him arrive at the clinic with three thermoses containing his semen and asking for them to be handled carefully because they were radioactive.
( postbear has metal knees, Wed 11 Jan 2006, 7:14, Reply)

Smarties
[/unlurks]
Actually my friend told me she got -incredibly- drunk and/or stoned before her History GCSE exam and wrote "Only smarties have the answer" for every question. This was a tad hard to believe, seeing as she pretended to drink 'vodka' that very morning, (which only turned out to be plain tap water in a plastic bottle.), and had a penchant for telling various people complete utter ridiculous lies, all in a vain attempt to make up for her pockmark-ridden face and suffering from a general absence of personality. God I hated being a teenager. Right, back to lurking.
[/lurks]
(Sadistic Old Git, Wed 11 Jan 2006, 4:35, Reply)

Mars
I believed that Mars was going to be visible to the naked eye last year and emailed everybody. Turns out, it was several years before.
(pokyponie, Wed 11 Jan 2006, 3:26, Reply)

March of the Penguins
Just watched march of the penguins with some friends, 2 girls and 2 guys. The girls now are convinced that emperor penguins are around 6 foot tall. Helped by some improv from the guys, the final nail in the coffin was from me - "You could give them a hug standing up!" - I'm such a bastard.

Woo first post!!
(gingerchris I'm trying..., Wed 11 Jan 2006, 1:46, Reply)

Only Smarties Have the Answer
A mate of mine did that during his GCSEs. For one I believe him as he does seem the type of person that is thick enough to.
(Peter Sutcliffe's Right Bollock, Tue 10 Jan 2006, 23:30, Reply)

Once, when drunk...
...a mate of mine said "actually, living in Hull ain't too bad". And me, being drunk, agreed!

God, i'm an idiot.
(MrTrent cannot think of a clever sig., Tue 10 Jan 2006, 23:02, Reply)

Smarties
My mate told me that before one of his GCSE exams he got really stoned and wrote "only smarties have the answer" for every question, ive always had my suspicions about this story but i cant find it on snopes, does anyone else know anything about this?
($wift, Tue 10 Jan 2006, 22:21, Reply)

World's Largest Toblerone
Not an urband legend but more a demonstration of my girlfriends gullibility - original i know!

I'd recently order a poster and it came delivered in a large, well 3ft long, triangular cardboard box.

So said girlfriend comes round and she see's the triangular shaped box and asks me whats in it, jokingly i said "oh, a toblerone" in an off-hand mnner, she gave me 'the look' to ask me to elaborate so I thought i'd have some fun.

"Well, I saw on eBay for a limited time only that you can buy what is the worlds largest Toblerone at almost 3feet long for £60!"

"Oh my god" Was her reply "I can't believe you actually psent £60 on a huge toblerone!"

I must make mention that this girl is neither blonde nor from essex, but isn't the brightest spark in the common sense manner, she did once - afterall - think that there were no trees in africa AT ALL due to the continent being a complete desert.
(One_Winged_Angel Ich Dien, Tue 10 Jan 2006, 22:08, Reply)

CDDB
I managed to convince a friend that the CDDB was operated by trained monkeys. Inserting your CD into your CD Drive sends a short code to the operating room. A monkey recognises the code and is trained to type in the names of the songs, thence the short delay between inserting the CD and the song names appearing.
(lepands, Tue 10 Jan 2006, 21:22, Reply)

Of course you do realise ? ?
that Susan Kennedy from Neighbours is tattoed all the way down both arms and that's why she always wears long sleeve tops.
(tootlepip, Tue 10 Jan 2006, 21:12, Reply)

does this count?
I once managed to convince my very gullible friend Jo that there was a meteorite on its way to south London. It went something like this:
me: so have you been evacuated then?
jo: huh?
me: you know, cos of the meteorite?
jo: huh?
me: you know, it was on the news last night? didn't the police come to your house last night to evacuate you?
jo: [more panicky] huh?
me: god jo don't you know anything, there's a big meteorite on it's way to Norbury, everyone from there has been evacuated. it's hitting in 2 days.
jo: oh my god (etc etc).
Next day in school Jo tiumphantly announced that there was no meteorite. how had she finally worked this out? she'd gone home and told her equally gullible parents about their impending doom, they then proceeded to harass the local police about why thay hadn't been evacuated (I believe her Dad at one point accused them of evacuating white people first and leaving Indian families to their doom).
After about three hours thay worked it out.
It could have turned into a nice bit of local panic if only the rest of Norbury , South Norwood and Streatham were as gullible as Jo and her family.ah well.
(charlytune, Tue 10 Jan 2006, 19:21, Reply)

big brother
My older brother made me suffer in so many ways growing up from being the victim of WWF wrestling move testing through to outrageous stories that I gullibly believed and spread (well he was my big brother and obviously knew more than me).
He had me believing when I was real little on there being a barbie doll that gave birth to hundreds of babies that you could buy, and that when you were in the bath tub first your fingers go wrinkly, then your toes but when your butt goes wrinkly you die (cue contortionism and much fear in the tub), then later on with the old 'my friends got robbed and when they got their camera film developed there were pics of the robbers with their tooth brushes up their arses.' Only found out that one when I told someone else and they couldn't believe I fell for it. Cheers big bro!
(toffee pop, Tue 10 Jan 2006, 18:06, Reply)

giant tackle
legend has it in south-west manchester, there are no urban legends, because its a pit and noone has any imagination.


And its full of scallys
(muggins im afraid dave.my mind is going, i can feel it, Tue 10 Jan 2006, 18:06, Reply)

room service
Friend of a friend - as ever - felt rather horny while staying in a hotel on business. After failing to get pr0n on the telly, he decided to give the old phone lines a call.

"Hello Sir, how can I help you," said the sexy voice.

"You can start by taking off your panties. I'm hot, horny and ready to blow," came the reply. "What do you think about that?"

"Not a lot Sir," came the reply. "You might do better if you dial 9 for an outside line..."

Sorry if already done.

Enjoy the length.
(Milkmelikeacow, Tue 10 Jan 2006, 17:51, Reply)

the lefty conspiracy
Ok, this is a case of inventing a myth...

my first party in university, and two of my new found friends are having a conversation about mars bars. One friend, lets call him bob, has managed to convince another, lets call her beryll, that a new mars bar is being produced for left handed people.

You see, apparently left handed people can't open ordinary mars bar packaging. At this point bob convinces (right-handed) beryll to attempt opening a mars bar packet with her left hand... of course she finds this very difficult and is deeply concerned about the injustice of this phenomenon. The problem is, says bob, the new left handed mars bar will cost ten pence extra, because all the machines in the factory will have to run backwards. beryll is incensed and begins to rant and rave 'this is discrimination!' she wails.

So bob decides to take it one step further...

You see bob is left handed and so has a habit of smudging his writing, due to the european practice of writing from left to right. this, during his GCSEs was a problem. So, he tells beryll, since he is also jewish, he was given special permission to write his GCSE answers in hebrew, which flows from right to left... producing smudge free, legible writing, provided the marker can read hebrew in the first place of course. She laps it up... he didn't tell her till a week later.

Beautiful.

(first post, by the way... hi ho all!)
( litzigig, Tue 10 Jan 2006, 17:46, Reply)

Here's a little song I wrote..
I was duped myself and I dutifully passed it on to hundreds of other irony buffs over the years in good faith. I believed for ages that Bobby Mcferrin - the guy who recorded the feel good "Don't worry - be happy" song - had committed suicide shortly after its release. The irony made it all seem so beautifully plausible. Only recently discovered he didn't -Pleased to note on Wiki that I was not the only one...
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bobby_McFerrin
Apologies if this has already been bagged.
( Woolworth Smells of festive spices, Tue 10 Jan 2006, 17:32, Reply)

Love Gloves
Right, this is an urban legend created by the following events at my parents house, it's a long one - so apologies in advance as I need to sow a bit of background foliage. I will also omit the names to protect the guilty, although this is probably a futile effort as I'm sure there are a lot of people who have already worked out who I am already through previous posts.


1996 - I was working as a DJ in a private members club in Cheshire at the weekends - and working as a order picker for Marks and Spencer Deliveries during the day (when I could be bothered). The packing job is where the orange sticky coated gloves come into the story, as these were standard issue to help you move the boxes and other gubbins.

My friend from Birmingham had asked my parents if he could stay with them for a couple of weeks whilst he was doing a contracting job for Railtrack timetable changes.

My Sister and her 3 kids were also living with my parents after a messy seperation, so there was my bedroom and one sofa spare for sleeping.

So there's the background.

Cut to Saturday night - I was behind the decks, pissed as usual, playing bloody Tubthumper, Born Slippy and The Levellers for the usual pissed crusties with my mate from Birmingham and my other mate from Hull getting noisily drunk together by the bar. Around midnight, Hull mate comes up and joins me in the DJ box saying that Birmingham mate has pulled and is exploring some girls Tonsils and mammaries.

Packing up at the end of the night, there was no sign of of the Brummie, so we assumed that he had got very lucky and gone home with the girl - so Hull mate and I went back to my parents place to have a smoke. Brummie was there on my bed with girl with the lights on and curtains open for all to see as I got home, so being the understanding bloke I am, left him to it and Hull mate and I rolled a couple of fat ones and went for a flesh shredding run off our tits through a corn field.

We got back about an hour later - Brummie and friend were still shagging like dogs in my room - and as I had pulled an overtime shift at work (double time) the next morning - Hull mate slept on the sofa and I slept under a blanket, under the kitchen table - well, more passed out than slept.

I got up the following morning at 7am after 4 hours sleep and crept into my now stinking room to get my steelies and gloves for work - but in the gloom could only find one of the gloves so left quickly so not to be late and to drop Hull mate off at the train station.

I got home that afternoon to be greeted with extreme hostility from my family and have my Father shout at me that Brummie was not welcome anywhere near their house ever again...

What had transpired after my blackout and going to work was this:

The shagging in my room reached a peak and the noises became animalistic, as did the banging and thumping. This woke up my sister and her kids in the rooms across the hall. Then things quietened down for about 10 minutes before they decided to continue their exploits in the shower, which woke my parents up. This cycle continued apparently for hours.

When things had died down the following morning, I had gone to work and Brummie had left the house with friend, my family sat down to a full cooked breakfast - which was suddenly interupted by Brummie bursting through the kitchen door stark bollock naked, he didn't break his stride, walked past my agog family to the sink, filled the kettle, waited for it boil, farted and scratched his arse, then walked out, tackle swinging without even looking at them. The loud bedroom antics continued again just afterwards and then they vanished from the house.

Brummie was not seen for 4 days. Then on Thursday he turned up with a bunch of flowers looking very sheepish and wanting to apologise to my parents. He never said where he went to, he was just apologetic for getting "a bit too overenthusiastic".

Cut to a year later 1997, I was in the Brunswick pub in Crewe having a few scoops when Brummie's former boss from the Railtrack contract comes up to me and mid way through our chat drops THE bombshell at the top of his voice;
"I believe you're missing a glove!?", I looked at him in confusion not knowing what he was talking about. "When ******** stayed with you last year, one of your orange work gloves went missing didn't it! And you've never found it!".
How he knew this small detail then came pouring out amidst a lot of other sordid details of that night, again at the top of his pissed voice.

Brummie's missing 4 days and sudden departure from my parents house was due to him being in hospital - because after the morning cuppa and sudden re-introduction of fluid to their systems causing their rutting glands to start again - he allowed her to fist him up the arse with my orange sticky work glove. This in turn had gone wrong and he had her drive him to the hospital where he stayed for 4 days.

The feeling of disgust and horror that washed over me that this had happened in my room made me feel sick, as well as the sheer shuddering disgust of even contemplating the act.

Cut to the following year 1998 - I was in a pub in Nantwich having a quiet drink when I overheard a story being told by a group of students which suddenly made me sit up and tune in just in case my family name was mentioned - it was the story you have just trawled through - ending with the "friend letting the slag fist him with a cricket glove and him having to go to hospital for a month".

Chinese whispers - don't you just love them.
(Catchag "You know!....For Kids!", Tue 10 Jan 2006, 16:39, Reply)

Seig heil!
Apparently British special forces attempted to place a rug saturated with poison in Hitlers main abode during world war 2 in order to try and kill him, the reasoning behind this that people had been saying Hitler was a rug muncher.

And people that is not a dumb joke, i read it on some website a while back.....so it must be true
(Xyphious : Sinkin' Gin since '85, Tue 10 Jan 2006, 16:15, Reply)

My mate managed to convince me that our new manager who I hadn't then met had a prosthetic leg. Luckily I managed to restore my gullible pride by convincing several other members of our team. One of the slightly more mentally challenged members of our team actually tried to touch it...

We've also started a rumour that my mate's got worms, but we keep forgetting to spread it proper...
( Damien's Hearse, Tue 10 Jan 2006, 16:03, Reply)

Exploding chocolate and the reintroduction of the half-penny piece
Once worked in a newsagents. Managed to convince the two slightly dappy women who worked in there that certain chocolate bars would explode if not stored correctly. Back in the days when good-quality laser printing was the thing of (some people's) dreams, I created an official-looking letter from the Authorities. Said that one of two things would happen -either the chemicals in the wrapper would melt and cause a "torrent" of chocolate to run through the shop, or the wrapper would react so severely with the chocolate that it would blow a 2 foot-wide hole in the ceiling. I left very clear instructions on how the chocolate should be laid out. Came in the next day to find that my instructions had been followed to the letter!

Also managed to convince them through a similarly official-looking letter that the half-penny piece was to be reintroduced. Printed out a load of stickers that could be added to things and came in the following day to find that all the cigarettes had gone up to £2.75 and a half.
(Drodbar, Tue 10 Jan 2006, 16:00, Reply)

test tube babies

I once convinced my ex-girlfriend that test tube babies are born without belly buttons. She told her parents this the first time I met them...and although I cringed at first...I managed to convince them too.....

I am a bad person.
(Plloyds big holiday socks, Tue 10 Jan 2006, 15:56, Reply)

peelmytangerines about the penguin tipping thing
My dad was one of the first people to go to a particular spot in the Antarctic, back in the early 50's. They were the first mob to ever take an aircraft down there (a single engined Beaver for all you plane spotters). I have in fact seen 16mm footage of herds (cluthches? rookeries? noun collectives?) of Adelie penguins taken from said low flying, slow flying aircraft, watching it approach, and promptly tipping over backwards as it continued overhead. Apparently, (there's that word again)though, they soon got used to it and stopped tipping en masse. Maybe some moved to the UK first...
(dadadali has hybrid vigour, Tue 10 Jan 2006, 15:49, Reply)

Bearos
That sounds suspiciously like rolfing to me...
www.b3ta.com/users/profile.php?id=17632
(Bunnygirl, Tue 10 Jan 2006, 15:38, Reply)

Luckily I'll leave this job shortly.....
Just taken a temp job with 9 other fresh-faced recruits at a government-department run call centre. We're supposed to be taking calls and providing information about a new government initiative (but ironically I can't tell YOU about it); however this new thingy is so badly publicised that we've been there a week AND TO DATE NOT ONE CALL!!! So, everyone's bored, and starting to fiddle with the mainframe-based system. We're sort of allowed to waste a bit of time unofficially, so lots of the others are having fun messaging each other. I've convinced them that the monitoring system only snoops for keywords that are naughty, so everyone is doing a B3ta-esque misspelling thing. Actually, though, EVERY SINGLE MESSAGE IS RECORDED and due to general management boredom too will eventually be scanned. Ha ha. Today I sort of informally chatted with them all and no-one had heard of B3ta before so I think our little secret's safe here, yes? Or, um, well, I did mention B3ta, didn't I, and um, they are bored, um...
(dadadali has hybrid vigour, Tue 10 Jan 2006, 15:34, Reply)

Apparently...
Anyone prefacing any screed with the word 'apparently' is lying.
(Chickenwire social lubricator extraordinaire, Tue 10 Jan 2006, 15:13, Reply)

Drains of three, leave em be
round these ere parts, the thing to do if you walk on three drains one after the other is to spit on the last one. None of this spinning around nonsense. Oh, and you only have to do it if you walk on all three, which is why I always avoid the last one.

Come to think of it, I'm not sure what small scale armageddon it'd wreak if you did step on all three. But I'm not going to test it. That'd just be silly.

EDIT- Spring heeled Jack was in the last issue of Bizarre. Which is what the coincidence is.
( Captain Wow currently being a cunt in Infamous, Tue 10 Jan 2006, 14:39, Reply)