Profile for Napstitch:
none
Recent front page messages:
none
Best answers to questions:
[read all their answers]
- a member for 21 years, 1 month and 5 days
- has posted 12 messages on the main board
- has posted 0 messages on the talk board
- has posted 0 messages on the links board
- has posted 5 stories and 1 replies on question of the week
- They liked 14 pictures, 3 links, 0 talk posts, and 113 qotw answers.
- Ignore this user
- Add this user as a friend
- send me a message
none
Recent front page messages:
none
Best answers to questions:
» Pure Ignorance
I was working as the Helpdesk Administrator at the University of Southern Mississippi....
When two girls come in, one of them needing her email password reset. Theres noone else about whos not on a call so I dutifully walk over to the counter to assist.
"I love your accent! Where are you from?" One of the girls asks me.
"Thanks! I'm from England." I reply.
"Do they speak English there?" She asks, perfectly sincerely...
I look at her like shes out of her tiny mind, and say "Yesss".
"So you didn't have to learn another Language or anything, thats good!"
"Yesssssss..."
God bless American college students.
Oh, and then there was the lady who thought England was the little island up near Boston, Massachusets.. you know, up by the coast of Canada...
I love the USA. :)
(Fri 7th Jan 2005, 21:14, More)
I was working as the Helpdesk Administrator at the University of Southern Mississippi....
When two girls come in, one of them needing her email password reset. Theres noone else about whos not on a call so I dutifully walk over to the counter to assist.
"I love your accent! Where are you from?" One of the girls asks me.
"Thanks! I'm from England." I reply.
"Do they speak English there?" She asks, perfectly sincerely...
I look at her like shes out of her tiny mind, and say "Yesss".
"So you didn't have to learn another Language or anything, thats good!"
"Yesssssss..."
God bless American college students.
Oh, and then there was the lady who thought England was the little island up near Boston, Massachusets.. you know, up by the coast of Canada...
I love the USA. :)
(Fri 7th Jan 2005, 21:14, More)
» Shit Stories
Sandwich of death..
So anyways, the scene is Norwich on a cold winters night, back in the early 90's. Three teenage rapscallions are bored. Dave, Myself, and Matt are all sitting in Dave's bike shed (bit of a speedway rider was our Dave, back in the day). Our other mate, Neil, Was inside the warm of Dave's house, getting off with some young filly he'd managed to pick up a couple of days before.
So anyways, as you do, Dave decided he'd shit in a bucket outside. Having deployed his bum cigar, we were then at a loss of quite what to do with the foul thing.
Then it came to us.
Neil wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. And had previously pissed in Dave's beer a few weeks beforehand.
The plan was hatched, and off to the kitchen did I get dispatched to obtain two slices of Kingsmill. Meanwhile, Matt politely tapped on the closed door of the living room - "Alright Neil Mate, we're makin sandwiches outside, want one?" "Yeah, that'd be great!" Comes the reply of the hapless one. Dave, outside, has found a spatula looking device to make the instrument of Neils demise.
The turd sandwich is constucted, by Dave's not-so-fair hands. And took into Neil by Matt, who informs him "Here you go mate, its crab paste." "Lovely", comes the reply.
And us three gits hang around outside the patio doors...waiting for the scream we knew most certainly would come. And waited. And waited. And waited.
"Did he eat it?" we wondered. Maybe he'd twigged and was playing it cool. I was sent in to knock on the door and tell him that there were more paste sandwiches outside, but we needed the plate, so eat up, eh?
Back outside we waited some more.. and then... The noise we'd been waiting for. I cannot describe it, other than to say that it was probably a combined mixture of revulsion, horror, and disbelief. Combined with the added bonus of a mouthful of human excrement and bread being sprayed at high velocity onto Dave's parents wedding photos. Neil came storming and spitting his guts up out the back door, whereupon we attempted to leg it, but were collectively laughing too hard to run. resulting in me (being the youngest fat kid) getting the shit (aha ha ha) kicked out of me solidly for a full 15 minutes.
Turns out, Neil's little girl had twigged to what the sandwich contained, and stated to him, as he picked the sandwich up, "You're not going to eat that, are you, Its Shit!". Taking that as some kind of challenge, Neil had folded the sarnie in half, and had taken a walloping double-decker bite out of it.
He brushed his teeth with Daves toothbrush, and we didn't leave him alone with our drinks for about 5 years after that.
Sorry about length.
(Fri 7th May 2004, 6:38, More)
Sandwich of death..
So anyways, the scene is Norwich on a cold winters night, back in the early 90's. Three teenage rapscallions are bored. Dave, Myself, and Matt are all sitting in Dave's bike shed (bit of a speedway rider was our Dave, back in the day). Our other mate, Neil, Was inside the warm of Dave's house, getting off with some young filly he'd managed to pick up a couple of days before.
So anyways, as you do, Dave decided he'd shit in a bucket outside. Having deployed his bum cigar, we were then at a loss of quite what to do with the foul thing.
Then it came to us.
Neil wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. And had previously pissed in Dave's beer a few weeks beforehand.
The plan was hatched, and off to the kitchen did I get dispatched to obtain two slices of Kingsmill. Meanwhile, Matt politely tapped on the closed door of the living room - "Alright Neil Mate, we're makin sandwiches outside, want one?" "Yeah, that'd be great!" Comes the reply of the hapless one. Dave, outside, has found a spatula looking device to make the instrument of Neils demise.
The turd sandwich is constucted, by Dave's not-so-fair hands. And took into Neil by Matt, who informs him "Here you go mate, its crab paste." "Lovely", comes the reply.
And us three gits hang around outside the patio doors...waiting for the scream we knew most certainly would come. And waited. And waited. And waited.
"Did he eat it?" we wondered. Maybe he'd twigged and was playing it cool. I was sent in to knock on the door and tell him that there were more paste sandwiches outside, but we needed the plate, so eat up, eh?
Back outside we waited some more.. and then... The noise we'd been waiting for. I cannot describe it, other than to say that it was probably a combined mixture of revulsion, horror, and disbelief. Combined with the added bonus of a mouthful of human excrement and bread being sprayed at high velocity onto Dave's parents wedding photos. Neil came storming and spitting his guts up out the back door, whereupon we attempted to leg it, but were collectively laughing too hard to run. resulting in me (being the youngest fat kid) getting the shit (aha ha ha) kicked out of me solidly for a full 15 minutes.
Turns out, Neil's little girl had twigged to what the sandwich contained, and stated to him, as he picked the sandwich up, "You're not going to eat that, are you, Its Shit!". Taking that as some kind of challenge, Neil had folded the sarnie in half, and had taken a walloping double-decker bite out of it.
He brushed his teeth with Daves toothbrush, and we didn't leave him alone with our drinks for about 5 years after that.
Sorry about length.
(Fri 7th May 2004, 6:38, More)
» Hidden Treasure
helpimburnin
That isn't mousehold heath in Norwich by any chance, is it? Sounds like alot of the same crap I used to find while walking through there.
I found a pretty nifty ladies watch once while taking a path less traveled. Gold strap with diamonds in the face.
My mum claimed it.
Bah.
(Thu 30th Jun 2005, 19:30, More)
helpimburnin
That isn't mousehold heath in Norwich by any chance, is it? Sounds like alot of the same crap I used to find while walking through there.
I found a pretty nifty ladies watch once while taking a path less traveled. Gold strap with diamonds in the face.
My mum claimed it.
Bah.
(Thu 30th Jun 2005, 19:30, More)
» People with Stupid Names
Another one...
I live in Jackson, MS now... I see signs for this Estate Agent everywhere...
www.megheadrealty.com/
Meg Head.
(Thu 26th Aug 2004, 17:32, More)
Another one...
I live in Jackson, MS now... I see signs for this Estate Agent everywhere...
www.megheadrealty.com/
Meg Head.
(Thu 26th Aug 2004, 17:32, More)
» People with Stupid Names
Teacher in Norwich
Back when I was learning at the Hewett School in Norwich, there was a maths teacher called Dick Wash.
And thats how he signed everything.
Couldn't take the mick too much tho - he was a black belt in Tae-kwon-do. Once smacked a mate of mine across the room. :)
He was a pretty good guy tho.
(Thu 26th Aug 2004, 17:10, More)
Teacher in Norwich
Back when I was learning at the Hewett School in Norwich, there was a maths teacher called Dick Wash.
And thats how he signed everything.
Couldn't take the mick too much tho - he was a black belt in Tae-kwon-do. Once smacked a mate of mine across the room. :)
He was a pretty good guy tho.
(Thu 26th Aug 2004, 17:10, More)