Profile for Young Master Ploppy:
31, male, currently based in London and embarking on a painstaking program of experimentation to disprove the notion that cats always land on their feet.
Often to be found pointing small rodents in the direction of Durham Cathedral.
Too busy at work to post as much as he'd like.
Has played guitar and bass for about 17 years now, and reckons that the fame and fortune thing isn't what it's cracked up to be. Apparently.
Recent front page messages:
Best answers to questions:
[read all their answers]
- a member for 21 years, 1 month and 27 days
- has posted 91 messages on the main board
- (of which 2 have appeared on the front page)
- has posted 0 messages on the talk board
- has posted 0 messages on the links board
- has posted 13 stories and 1 replies on question of the week
- They liked 29 pictures, 0 links, 0 talk posts, and 17 qotw answers.
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31, male, currently based in London and embarking on a painstaking program of experimentation to disprove the notion that cats always land on their feet.
Often to be found pointing small rodents in the direction of Durham Cathedral.
Too busy at work to post as much as he'd like.
Has played guitar and bass for about 17 years now, and reckons that the fame and fortune thing isn't what it's cracked up to be. Apparently.
Recent front page messages:
I have some strange things in my head today
EDIT: Yay! FP! Goshdarnit, Magic Donkey, you am der man!
(Fri 4th Jul 2003, 12:15, More)
EDIT: Yay! FP! Goshdarnit, Magic Donkey, you am der man!
(Fri 4th Jul 2003, 12:15, More)
I couldn't resist
Someone posted a hand-drawn, painstakingly-well-made animation of Vader and Obi-Wan duelling with lightsabers last week. And I just couldn't resist it.....
sorry.....
(Wed 5th Mar 2003, 10:59, More)
Someone posted a hand-drawn, painstakingly-well-made animation of Vader and Obi-Wan duelling with lightsabers last week. And I just couldn't resist it.....
sorry.....
(Wed 5th Mar 2003, 10:59, More)
Best answers to questions:
» Failed
Spectacularly failed to get into Oxford - failed it HARD!!!
I was at the world-famous Oxford University, interviewing for a place on the Physics course, and I was the first to be interviewed by Dr Brooker.
I'd been warned about Dr Brooker by the student looking after us - "do NOT attempt to bond with him!" she said. "He has NO sense of humour - don't even try!". Righto, I thought.
Off I went to to an hour of abject torture - I've never felt so out-of-my-depth before or since.
When I got back to the communal room, I opened the door, a broken man. "How was it?" someone asked. I immediately launched into a rant about the perverse evil of Dr Brooker, including an in-depth discussion of his satanic chicken-buggering tendencies, and a graphic description of the images in my head of him buggering a tesco's frozen chicken behind his desk and dancing naked around vestal virgins on the hillside, smeared on blood. I thought it was actually quite funny...
No-one laughed. They just stared open-mouthed. Someone slowly shook their head. I turned round, knowing what I would see... and true enough, there behind was Dr Brooker, entering his room opposite.
Apparently this tale became almost an urban legend - if anyone here actually *went* to Wadham College, Oxford, and heard that story - yes it's true. It was me.
If you're going to fail - fail in style, I say....
(Fri 5th Jan 2007, 11:40, More)
Spectacularly failed to get into Oxford - failed it HARD!!!
I was at the world-famous Oxford University, interviewing for a place on the Physics course, and I was the first to be interviewed by Dr Brooker.
I'd been warned about Dr Brooker by the student looking after us - "do NOT attempt to bond with him!" she said. "He has NO sense of humour - don't even try!". Righto, I thought.
Off I went to to an hour of abject torture - I've never felt so out-of-my-depth before or since.
When I got back to the communal room, I opened the door, a broken man. "How was it?" someone asked. I immediately launched into a rant about the perverse evil of Dr Brooker, including an in-depth discussion of his satanic chicken-buggering tendencies, and a graphic description of the images in my head of him buggering a tesco's frozen chicken behind his desk and dancing naked around vestal virgins on the hillside, smeared on blood. I thought it was actually quite funny...
No-one laughed. They just stared open-mouthed. Someone slowly shook their head. I turned round, knowing what I would see... and true enough, there behind was Dr Brooker, entering his room opposite.
Apparently this tale became almost an urban legend - if anyone here actually *went* to Wadham College, Oxford, and heard that story - yes it's true. It was me.
If you're going to fail - fail in style, I say....
(Fri 5th Jan 2007, 11:40, More)
» Pure Ignorance
More Americans and their ballistic approach to Geography
yank: So where are you from?
me: England
yank: What - the actual city of England?
me: England is a country
yank: Whatever.... so how far is England from London?
me: London is in England
yank: Right, right...but it's pretty near to the UK, right?
me: (shakes head and walks away)
(Fri 7th Jan 2005, 10:17, More)
More Americans and their ballistic approach to Geography
yank: So where are you from?
me: England
yank: What - the actual city of England?
me: England is a country
yank: Whatever.... so how far is England from London?
me: London is in England
yank: Right, right...but it's pretty near to the UK, right?
me: (shakes head and walks away)
(Fri 7th Jan 2005, 10:17, More)
» When I met the parents
I don't know, you try to impress, and look what happens....
My (Chinese) GF had been teaching me Cantonese, and I'd thought I was doing SO well.... So when we met her parents for dim sum, I thought I'd compliment her mum's new perfume, and proudly said "Lei hyung!" - meaning, loosely, "you smell nice" - and felt very chuffed with myself.
...unfortunately, Cantonese can be a right bugger to pronounce properly, and what actually came out was more like "lei hai yeung" - which apparently means "you cunt face".
...oops....
(Fri 20th May 2005, 12:48, More)
I don't know, you try to impress, and look what happens....
My (Chinese) GF had been teaching me Cantonese, and I'd thought I was doing SO well.... So when we met her parents for dim sum, I thought I'd compliment her mum's new perfume, and proudly said "Lei hyung!" - meaning, loosely, "you smell nice" - and felt very chuffed with myself.
...unfortunately, Cantonese can be a right bugger to pronounce properly, and what actually came out was more like "lei hai yeung" - which apparently means "you cunt face".
...oops....
(Fri 20th May 2005, 12:48, More)
» Job Interviews
Does a spectacular failure in an oxford uni interview count?
Not strictly a job interview, but I'm sure it affected my employability.
I was at the world-famous Oxford University, interviewing for a place on the Physics course, and I was the first to be interviewed by Dr Brooker.
I'd been warned about Dr Brooker by the student looking after us - "do NOT attempt to bond with him!" she said. "He has NO sense of humour - don't even try!". Righto, I thought.
Off I went to to an hour of abject torture - I've never felt so out-of-my-depth before or since.
When I got back to the communal room, I opened the door, a broken man. "How was it?" someone asked. I immediately launched into a rant about the perverse evil of Dr Brooker, including an in-depth discussion of his satanic chicken-buggering tendencies, and a graphic description of the images in my head of him buggering a tesco's frozen chicken behind his desk and dancing naked around vestal virgins on the hillside. I thought it was actually quite funny...
No-one laughed. They just stared open-mouthed. Someone slowly shook their head. I turned round, knowing what I would see... and true enough, there behind was Dr Brooker, entering his room opposite.
Apparently this tale became almost an urban legend - if anyone here actually *went* to Wadham College, Oxford, and heard that story - yes it's true. It was me.
If you're going to fail - fail in style, I say....
(Mon 24th Jan 2005, 14:49, More)
Does a spectacular failure in an oxford uni interview count?
Not strictly a job interview, but I'm sure it affected my employability.
I was at the world-famous Oxford University, interviewing for a place on the Physics course, and I was the first to be interviewed by Dr Brooker.
I'd been warned about Dr Brooker by the student looking after us - "do NOT attempt to bond with him!" she said. "He has NO sense of humour - don't even try!". Righto, I thought.
Off I went to to an hour of abject torture - I've never felt so out-of-my-depth before or since.
When I got back to the communal room, I opened the door, a broken man. "How was it?" someone asked. I immediately launched into a rant about the perverse evil of Dr Brooker, including an in-depth discussion of his satanic chicken-buggering tendencies, and a graphic description of the images in my head of him buggering a tesco's frozen chicken behind his desk and dancing naked around vestal virgins on the hillside. I thought it was actually quite funny...
No-one laughed. They just stared open-mouthed. Someone slowly shook their head. I turned round, knowing what I would see... and true enough, there behind was Dr Brooker, entering his room opposite.
Apparently this tale became almost an urban legend - if anyone here actually *went* to Wadham College, Oxford, and heard that story - yes it's true. It was me.
If you're going to fail - fail in style, I say....
(Mon 24th Jan 2005, 14:49, More)
» I Hurt My Rude Bits, Again
Not mine, but someone else's
A P.E. lesson. We were 14. The teacher (universally known as The Shower Prowler, but that's another story) hands me the volleyball nets and says "go put these out!". So with a look round at - well, let's call him Arnie - and a mutual nod of the head, we set off to do just that.
Arnie tries to attach the net to the hooks top of the post, but it's just too high. He looks round at me and says "hey, give me a lift up, will you?"
So I grab him round the waist, and lift.
He gets the net attached, and says "right, put me down!"
So I let go, and back away.
Arnie does not back away. Arnie stands there on tip-toe, looking like he's stuck and in some pain.
The posts were multi-purpose, with hooks at various heights for different games.
Arnie's shorts are caught on a hook just above waist height.
The rest of us, of course, burst out in braying, pointing, laughter.
Arnie's shorts rip. He's still stuck. His underpants are also caught on the hook.
Our laughter intensifies to hysterical levels. This is comedy GOLD! We're going to be taking the piss out of him for this for YEARS!
Then Arnie's underpants rip. He's still stuck.
Suddenly no-one is laughing anymore.
With an awful lurch, a grunting pull of himself up the pole, and a collective deathly silence, he manages to his most tender skin off the hook. He bends double, and limps over towards the teacher, clutching his damaged parts and bearing a look of abject horror. And rightly so, for there's a growing trickle of blood and ... something else running down his leg
"Sir, I've .... I've cut myself"
"Where?"
He pulls his hands away.
"There!"
The teacher goes white, stammers out "lets...lets get you upstairs...", picks him up and carries him out, leaving an entire gym hall full of shellshocked kids.
After many stitches, Arnie made a full recovery, and is happily married with several kids now. He's even teaching at the same school.
I, on the other hand, never lived it down. The story passed into the realms of urban legend, spreading far and wide, and being distorted and exaggerated with each retelling. But it's true. I was there. It was me. And no matter what you hear from anyone, it wasn't a gang hit, it wasn't a hazing ritual, it was an accident.
(Thu 7th Mar 2013, 17:00, More)
Not mine, but someone else's
A P.E. lesson. We were 14. The teacher (universally known as The Shower Prowler, but that's another story) hands me the volleyball nets and says "go put these out!". So with a look round at - well, let's call him Arnie - and a mutual nod of the head, we set off to do just that.
Arnie tries to attach the net to the hooks top of the post, but it's just too high. He looks round at me and says "hey, give me a lift up, will you?"
So I grab him round the waist, and lift.
He gets the net attached, and says "right, put me down!"
So I let go, and back away.
Arnie does not back away. Arnie stands there on tip-toe, looking like he's stuck and in some pain.
The posts were multi-purpose, with hooks at various heights for different games.
Arnie's shorts are caught on a hook just above waist height.
The rest of us, of course, burst out in braying, pointing, laughter.
Arnie's shorts rip. He's still stuck. His underpants are also caught on the hook.
Our laughter intensifies to hysterical levels. This is comedy GOLD! We're going to be taking the piss out of him for this for YEARS!
Then Arnie's underpants rip. He's still stuck.
Suddenly no-one is laughing anymore.
With an awful lurch, a grunting pull of himself up the pole, and a collective deathly silence, he manages to his most tender skin off the hook. He bends double, and limps over towards the teacher, clutching his damaged parts and bearing a look of abject horror. And rightly so, for there's a growing trickle of blood and ... something else running down his leg
"Sir, I've .... I've cut myself"
"Where?"
He pulls his hands away.
"There!"
The teacher goes white, stammers out "lets...lets get you upstairs...", picks him up and carries him out, leaving an entire gym hall full of shellshocked kids.
After many stitches, Arnie made a full recovery, and is happily married with several kids now. He's even teaching at the same school.
I, on the other hand, never lived it down. The story passed into the realms of urban legend, spreading far and wide, and being distorted and exaggerated with each retelling. But it's true. I was there. It was me. And no matter what you hear from anyone, it wasn't a gang hit, it wasn't a hazing ritual, it was an accident.
(Thu 7th Mar 2013, 17:00, More)