b3ta.com user Plyck
You are not logged in. Login or Signup
Profile for Plyck:
Profile Info:


Recent front page messages:


Best answers to questions:

» Accidentally Erotic

Reassuring Hugs of Embarrasment
For some reason, whenever I give a female person in distress a comforting hug, I always get the horn. I don't know whether it's the touching or their vulnerability, but I've mastered the art of hugging with only the top half of my body so as not to accidentally prod them.
It's like my heart is saying 'is there anything I can do to make you feel better' and my libido is raising its 'hand' to make a suggestion.
(Mon 6th Feb 2006, 12:33, More)

» Cheating cheaty cheats

So pathetic, yet still a source of shame
When I was just a kid I cheated on school sports day in the egg-and-spoon race... but I had my reasons.

You see, we'd had a practice race the week before. The scool budget not stetching to a couple of dozen eggs, we'd all been given egg-sized lumps of plasticine to run with. Everyone (except me) immediatly pressed their lump into the spoon, sticking it in place, and belted down the track. I wobbled along behind carefully balancing my 'egg'. I finished last, angry and tearful at the unsportsmanlike behaviour of my classmates. I think I even complained to the teacher.

Come the day of the race, again there were no eggs, but there was no plasticine either. Instead we were given small potatoes! No sticking the 'egg' to the spoon this time, or so everyone thought. The first time my starchy load hit to the grass I was struck by a sneaky idea. Picking up the spud, I jammed the end of the spoon into it, just a few millimetres under the skin so at a distance it would look like I was carrying it, and with a wobbly sprint and many elaborate 'whoops I almost lost it that time!' arm movements I crossed the line first, scored a point for my house and took the potato as a 'souvenir' so it couldn't be inspected.

No apologies for the size of my potatoes or the length of my spoon.
(Fri 18th Nov 2005, 14:04, More)

» My computer gave away my secrets

Respect & trust are the basis of a happy relationship
When we moved in together, my girlfriend asked me to promise that I would never again look at naked women on the Internet, and so I promised.
A ball gag counts as clothing, right?

EDIT: Original Punchline was "Thank God for shemales!"
(Tue 14th Feb 2006, 13:56, More)

» Customers from Hell

I hope you're reading this, you arse
For many years I worked in an bookshop and have dealt with many a rude customer in my time. An example from my early days...

One busy Saturday lunchtime a man (who we'll call Mr Johnson) comes up to the counter and says "I'm here to collect my book - I had a call this morning to say it was in".

Me: OK, sir, and what is your name?

Man: Johnson

Me (turning to reservation shelf): And the name of the book?

Man: Birds of South Africa

Me (searching shelf): That's odd, it's not here. I'll just -

Man (loudly): But you said it was in!

Me: I'll just check to see if it's still inthe stock room. (reaches for phone and calls stock room).

Man: Hmph! (a mildy annoyed queue begins to form)

Me: (puts phone down) There's nothing waiting to come out. Can I just check your order on our system? Mr Johnson, was it, or Johnstone?

Man: J-o-h-n-s-o-n, Dick Johnson. (then loudly): Well, it should be here! You called me this morning!

Me: (still polite) That's odd, I can't find a Dick or Richard Johnson on our database.Are you sure you ordered it from here? I'll try searching by the title - "Birds of South Africa" was it? (typing rapidly)

Man: (speaking very loudly to make sure as many customers can hear as possible) What do you mean? Of course I ordered it from here! I've been waiting three weeks for ths book, and now you've lost it! What kind of bookshop is this?

Me: (polite, but starting to crack) ...in fact I can't find any indication that we've received a copy of that book recently. You're sure about the title? (to ever-increasing, grumbling queue) Sorry about this!

Man (almost shouting, with a certain gleeful rage found only in those who are so small minded they get a kick out of making a fuss in front of a crowd): Oh for goodness' sake! How ridiculous! You've lost my details, you've lost my book! (Turns to the customers behind him with gleeful scorn) I'm not getting my books in here again! How badly run is this place?

Me (flustered and deeply insulted): Look, I'm sure there's an explanation-

Man: Ha!

Manager (who has been rapildy serving customers on the next till while making a phone call): I've found your book sir.

Man: Finally! I must say I don't think much of the way you train your staff! This one here couldn't-

Manager (smiling thinly and waving the phone): I've just spoken to Waterstone's. THEY called you this morning. Your book is ready for collection. Please leave now, and don't ever come in here again.

Man: (his face transforming from gleeful scorn to pale shock at the enormity of his stupidity, he cannot speak and leaves rapidly, avoiding eye contact with the queue that now hates him)

The really crap part is this sort of thing happened a lot - there are a lot of arseoles out there. Of course, once you know that some people are too stupid to remember where they ordered a book from it becomes almost routine to check with the competition - and they called us for the same reason more than once.
(Mon 8th Sep 2008, 23:26, More)

» Fancy Dress

Crap costume & sort-of-racist judges
I) Back when I was at school we used to go on skiing trips once a year, and there were many crap activities to keep us kids 'amused' in the evenings, including a fancy dress competition. We had been advised to bring a costume with us as 'Roman' (ie bedsheet togas) and 'Skier' costumes were banned, but I thought I'd just sit it out so brought nothing.
Unfortunately, entering the competition was mandatory. So thinking quickly I just put on all my clothes backwards, and wore a pair of sunglasses on the back of my head. Guess what - my 'Mr Backwards' costume won 1st prize!

II) The following year I didn't win (same costume), but one of the winners was a girl who'd put a fair amount of effort into her '1920's Flapper' costume - floaty dress, heels, beads, decorative headband with feather, you get the picture. She even had the slim, almost breastless, build that was idealised back then. I complimented her on her outfit, and waited for the winners to be announced.
She won second place - as a Red Indian.
I guess it was the fact that her family was from India that had confused the judges. She didn't stop crying all night.
(Fri 13th Jan 2006, 21:40, More)
[read all their answers]