» Pure Ignorance

Unlike ny G/Fs mum (see below)...
...my faux pas was just down to stupidity. Bear with me, it is worth it...
Before cars in the UK all had Catalytic Converters I had heard one imported from the USA which had a very broken "cat" fitted to it. It made a very distinctive rattling noise.
Fast forward a few years and cats have recently been made compulsory and I wander into the workshop of the Saab garage where I worked and all the staff are gathered around a customers car which is making a familiar (but only to me) noise. They're all scratching their heads and looking a little lost. Before my brain has a chance to take control my mouth has blurted out a phrase that it obviously thought had the right balance of technical knowledge and nonchalence, "haven't you lot ever heard a cat when it's fucked?" (About 18 months if you're wondering).
(Thu 13th Jan 2005, 0:48, More)

» Shit Stories

Another academic poo story
While a mate was at Imperial College many years ago he was in the Union Bar and in strides the College Loony. "If I crap in my pint of Lager and then drink it, who's going to buy me another pint?" Many hands go up, so Loony buys himself a pint, gulps a third of it to make room and then heads for the basher. A couple of minutes later he returns proudly brandishing his glass with promised floater standing therein. A few seconds later the deed is done, and those that haven't run to the basher clutching their stomachs and/or mouths are buying the drinks as honour demands. As a grand finale / encore Loony eats the turd before starting on the free lager. It was of course a mars bar but I'd defy anyone to tell the difference after a couple of minutes immersion in watery college beer.
(Thu 6th May 2004, 2:01, More)

» Your Revenge Stories

Many many years ago
When people used to use the speaking clock, one of my brother's mates had a falling out with his current squeeze. When they couldn't stand each other any more he told her to move out of his flat. To make it easier he went away for the weekend to get out from under her feet while she packed, on the understanding that she would be gone by the time he returned.
When he did return he noticed (after a fair while) that the telephone was off the hook. He picked it up and listened, as you would, and she'd left it on the speaking clock, (from about 5 minutes after he left on the Friday evening it turned out). There was however one small additional complication, the speaking clock had an American accent...
Cost him hundreds, and this was in the late seventies when that was proper money.
(Fri 14th May 2004, 1:58, More)

» Churches, temples and holy places

Unwitting satanic imagery...
I say unwitting, it struck me about two seconds into my beloved aunts cremation that either someone had a seriously dark sense of humour or they were too devout to see the funny side of anything. You decide.

My Auntie Rosie was a lifelong keen churchgoer, though fortunately not the kind to force it on others as that would probably have caused a schism in the family. When she was 82 she developed stomach cancer and succumbed fairly quickly, and I found myself at a modern crematorium near Kings Lynn iirc. The coffin was placed on a freestanding brick plinth at the front of the room. I was puzzled as to how they were going to do the curtains and conveyor thing wherein the curtains part and the coffin and contents slide away serenely to meet their fiery doom as there were no curtains, and no conveyor, rollers or anything similar. The coffin and it's plinth were an island.
I began to get a bad feeling that something funny was going to happen and hoped that I'd be able to contain myself.

Sure enough, that point in the service arrived and the vicar pushed the button...
and my lovely old godfearing auntie descended vertically, slowly, down into the fire...
(Thu 8th Sep 2011, 0:44, More)

» Shit Stories

Motorway poo story
I used to drive a lorry, mostly at night. This one time I'm on the way home down the M1 and dive into the Welcome Break services as they always had the cleanest crouchers. I had just settled in a trap about half way down the room when some urgent footsteps hurry past, not quite running, but certainly not relaxed. A door to a nearby trap slams and there is the sound of someone practically ripping their trousers down, such is their urgency.
Then came the noise.
I've pondered long and hard how to convey to you all the truly bestial range of sounds this bloke was producing. Imagine someone with third degree burns, covered in iodine slipping in and out of conciousness while the morphine wears off.
Overlay this with the sound you would get if you pumped large volumes of air through a straw dipped into a bucket of warm McDonalds milkshake.
I was understandably helpless after having listened to this for about 15 minutes. I was biting my lip with my hands clamped across my mouth while I rocked around on my own throne with tears rolling down my face. I had to know who, at 2am, could possibly be in such a state, what did they look like, how old were they,how could they still drive in that state?
I had pretty much regained my composure, and remembered to do my own paperwork, when I heard the other trap open. I opened my door and observed a well dressed, respectable looking businessman-type individual in a decent pinstripe suit, 5'8", a little overweight, probably late forties, shuffle past, ashen faced and looking not a little dishevelled. He seemed to be avoiding my enquiring gaze, can't think why.
(Thu 6th May 2004, 21:16, More)