b3ta.com user Scary Mary The D'oh Fairy
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Profile for Scary Mary The D'oh Fairy:
Profile Info:

I quite fancy Jeremy Kyle.

Oh dear, my profile is pants.

Recent front page messages:

:)

(Sat 29th Jan 2005, 18:29, More)

It must be love :)

(Sat 25th Sep 2004, 17:50, More)

:)

(Sat 7th Aug 2004, 13:14, More)

:)

(Wed 9th Jun 2004, 19:38, More)

Love Me Tender *Honk*

*Quack*
(Wed 21st Apr 2004, 17:10, More)

Vampire Rabbit...

I vant to nibble your lettuce...mwahahahahah
(Mon 1st Mar 2004, 20:31, More)

:'(

(Sun 29th Feb 2004, 17:25, More)

Breaktime at work....

....the naughty men.
(Thu 26th Feb 2004, 9:41, More)

Dave turned over to watch the match.....

Eek
(Tue 6th Jan 2004, 15:04, More)

:)

CFB

(Fri 19th Dec 2003, 19:24, More)

Best answers to questions:

» Too much information

My mother
decided to tell me not so long ago, that not only would my father only have sex with her up the brown, but he was also gayer than a handbag full of rainbows.

But fear not, to console me over the shattered images of my past, she shared her happiness about her sexual antics with her present husband, and the fact that he whips up so much fanny froth, they have to change the sheets every night.

*gips*

*dies*
(Thu 6th Sep 2007, 16:21, More)

» Job Interviews

I often have to interview
youngsters for till work/shelf filling as they can do the student shifts. "Alistair" was next on my list and the bell rang to signify he was waiting.

Out I go, jacket on, papers at the ready and there, a vision stood before me.

Dressed from head to toe in purest white Kappa and Nike stood Alistair, my "homey", he then gave me 5 and showed himself into the office.

After mumbling and bullshitting his way through the first lot of questions, I was mesmerised by the size of the tongues on his monstrous trainers, and the amount of sovereign rings he had managed to cram on each finger.

I then asked the killer "Can you give me an example of where you received good customer service?".

"Well", replied Alistair, "If you go down Bargain Booze right, and you know Martin's sister, she'll give you a packet of smokes on the sly".

NEXT....
(Thu 20th Jan 2005, 16:27, More)

» Office Christmas Parties

Working for the Co-op
means I get the stunning amount of one whole day off at Xmas.

I also have to work till 8 on Christmas Eve and till 6 on Boxing Day.

What do I get for this pleasure?

Well apart from aching joints and an utterly rubbish Christmas, I get....wait for it.....a bottle of Moscato.

£3.99 rats piss that wouldn't get you drunk even after about 100 bottles.

I gave my last years bottle to the tramp that lives outside the shop on a bench. As he peered at the label I heard him cry "Whassis shite you fuggin bastard" He then threw the bottle as far as he could and carried on drinking his Frosty Jack.

The Co-op......So ruddy cheap, even tramps won't drink their Xmas offerings.
Pah
(Thu 16th Dec 2004, 16:11, More)

» Personal Hygiene

Co-op
Having worked for the Co-op for a good many years, I have encountered all sorts of diseased, filth ridden scutters who haven't seen a bar of soap for weeks, wafting around the aisles, turning the broccoli black and curdling the milk.

My favourite gut churning moment happened when I was working in a particularly rough shop as a management trainee.

The shop was in the middle of a precinct that was home to a million tramps, all swigging their diamond white and smoking bits of old dog ends, but there was one extra special filth merchant that just wore a dinner jacket and a pair of trousers held up with string, and would express his hatred of all the staff quite vocally.

Now it was a hot July day when this grimy fucker decided to have a go at pinching some tramp juice from the shop. We were in the back keeping a beady eye on him on the cameras, up one aisle, down the other, taking his time, when suddenly he stopped.

Zooming in on the dirty scruffer showed a look of intense concentration on his face and he was shuffling from one leg to the other. Then, without warning a torrent of shit and piss hurtled out of his trouser leg, and covered the floor and most of the bread shelves.

Well fuck.

The security guard nearly gipped up his dinner, and the manager turned green.

The tramp on the other hand, shook what was left out of his Farahs, dipped a finger up his ring to wipe off the sweetcorn and scuttled out of the shop, taking a packet of coco pops as an afterthought.

30 litres of bleach, 6 mopheads and 11 packets of jay cloths later it was gone, sluiced up by a tearful cleaning girl.

We never did get the coco pops back.
(Thu 22nd Mar 2007, 22:59, More)

» That's when I knew it was over...

Behind the back belming
if you feel compelled to do this in any relationship, it's over.
Trust me.
(Sun 24th Jul 2005, 22:45, More)
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