b3ta.com user dahogga
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male, 30, born in mcr, lives in austria, loves kittens.

the greatest village in the world - I live here! (almost)

Grammar God!
You are a GRAMMAR GOD!

Congratulations! If your mission in life
is not already to preserve the English tongue,
it should be. You can smell a grammtical
inaccuracy from fifty yards. Your speech is
revered by the underlings, though some may
blaspheme and call you a snob. They're just
jealous. Go out there and change the world.

How grammatically correct are you? (Revised with answer key)
brought to you by Quizilla

Recent front page messages:


Best answers to questions:

» Mugged

A mate of mine
-Phil- got mugged in the apartment block where I lived in central manc on his way to see me. Phil was escorted back outside by the guy (with a knife) and had all money taken etc. Then the guy started talking to him as he had time to kill before getting a bus (!). It turns out they knew some of the same people, and the guy took Phil for a pint round the corner. At the end he gave Phil his money back too - therefore being the only victim of a mugging I know that made a profit.

*Insert length, gag*
(Fri 16th Jun 2006, 10:47, More)

» Cringe!

Drum roll maestro
At the pretentious grammar school I reluctantly went to, my participation in additional activities was minimal (they didn't play football ffs). However, at 14, I was persuaded to play percussion in the school's 2nd orchestra (yes, apparently 1 orchestra wasn't enough).
This was no problem for me as I was a drummer and my parts were simple jobs like banging a bass drum or clashing cymbals. Easy.

If I had known the horror that awaited me I would definitely have stayed clear.

The first big performance came around and all the various school musical acts were out in force - orchestras, choirs, bands etc.
All the local top knobs were there, from the board of governors to local mayors etc.
Also sat proudly in the audience was my dad, himself a former drummer, eagerly awaiting the first live performance from his son. The audience were sat below the stage, which was nothing more than a series of staggered layers (think huge steps). Anticipation hung in the air...

Leaving nothing to chance, I had made sure all my equipment was set up beforehand. However when the time came for us to take the stage I was horrified to see that whichever group/band/orchestra was on before us had moved it all. Panicking, I started running around trying to find my missing gear while the rest of the orchestra was seated and waiting patiently.

I found the cymbals quickly and put them down. Bemused silence was punctuated with the occasional stifled giggle from the audience.
I then managed to locate the bass drum right at the top and started taking it back when, it slipped out of my now profusely sweating hands...

*BOOM* *CRASH* (cymbals went flying)

Yes, the bass drum rolled right down the various levels of the stage. In what seemed like slow motion I gave chase. Each drop made a louder bang and I could see the face of the headmaster coming closer into view. Off the stage it rolled, onto the floor and flew straight into the knee of the aforementioned disciplinarian. I came skidding to a halt just short of crashing into him myself, my now blood-drained face inches away from the steam-emitting demonic vision that held sway over my academic success. Nothing could save my now from eternal punishment...

...except for the now uncontrolled laughter which had broken out all around us.

Every man, woman, boy and girl in the house was secreting tears of hilarity. The headmaster looked around and composed himself, before giving a hearty laugh himself. I squeaked a small "sorry", picked up my drum and returned to the stage.

My Dad reckons it was the best concert he's ever seen. And that is how I became known as the drum roll maestro.
(Tue 2nd Dec 2008, 12:24, More)

» Political Correctness Gone Mad

When I was young
PC meant Police constable.
Nowadays I can't seem to tell the difference
(Thu 22nd Nov 2007, 13:00, More)

» Restaurants, Kitchens and Bars... Oh my!

Caught on the McJob
At the McDonalds where I used to work *cough.. Altrincham..* There was a large freezer room in the back area upstairs.
The freezer room was within a larger room used for storing stock such as burger boxes etc., so anyone working there would have a lot of privacy.
As of course was McDonalds tradition at the time, the cleaning staff were a couple of pensionable ladies.

You can see where this is going can't you?

An enterprising co-worker had developed a routine of making sure the soft drinks were well stocked - cola, fanta, hand shandy etc..
That's right, he was McWanking in the freezer room.

We don't really know all the details of what happened, but the screams of dear old Rose, the poor little old lady who was confronted by the arctic snake, will haunt me to my dying day.

And no, I don't know why she was going in there either - hopefully she didn't have something similar in mind...
(Fri 21st Jul 2006, 10:31, More)

» Losing Your Virginity

first time post, first shag, first crime
As a young, gagging-for-it lad of 14, I was dating a nice Italian girl from the year above me at school. There was some weird day's holiday which meant only our school had the day off. I naturally decided to make the most of the opportunity and invited my lovely laydee round. However it meant meeting her off a bus 'cos she'd never been to my house before. Terry Figwit here only forgot the bloody house keys!! I only realised when I was standing outside the house with a small tent pitched in my trousers and my disbelieving girlfrien by my side. After weighing up the opportunities (not getting laid, getting laid) I decided to break in to the house. However our house was pretty secure following a burgalry a few years before. This meant I had to smash a whole window and climb in...
After making the journey to manhood without any particular suave or sophistication my girlfriend went home (her first time also - Lucia I'm so sorry for making it so unromantic).
I then spent the evening explaining to the nice policeman how I disturbed a burglar when I came home from the shops and got commended by PC Gullible and my doting mother for my reckless bravely in "chasing the brute away". If I recall rightly I got a Pizza bought for my tea...

First post: length/girth/woo yay/kittens/status quo etc...
(Tue 8th Mar 2005, 15:52, More)
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