» Call Centres

Someone trying to sell me the Daily Mail
It's an old story, but it bears re-telling:

One night, I'm sitting by my PC when the phone rings. So I answer and it goes like this...

Caller: "Is that Mr [Whippity]?"

Me: "Yes."

Caller: "Hello, Mr [Whippity], I'm calling from the 'Daily Mail'. Do you read a newspaper?"

Me: "Very rarely, and if I do, it's 'The Guardian'."

Caller: "You may be interested to know that the 'Daily Mail' are doing a special half-price offer for a fortnight in your area. It will be supported by local newsagents so they'll deliver it to you, and you'll have 14 days papers for the price of seven."

Me: "I'll stop you there. I know you're only doing your job, but I'd rather stick pins in my genitals than read the 'Daily Mail'."

Caller: "Oh well, I'll let you get back to that then." [click]

From that night, I've been in love with whoever she was who called me. I was left holding the phone thinking "You're wonderful".

So - if you're reading this, Daily-Mail-selling lady, get in touch. I promise there'll be no pin-sticking involved.
(Fri 4th Sep 2009, 12:18, More)

» My sex misconceptions

Oh dear. Now it all comes back to me.
Closer to 40 years ago than I like to think, when I was about two years old, I asked my Mum what my testicles were for.

In a spirit of open information-providing, my dear Mum tells me that when I get older things like small insects will come from them and be used to make babies.

For years (YEARS!) after that I had a nagging fear that I had blackfly in my scrotum.
(Thu 25th Sep 2008, 21:25, More)

» Evil Pranks

Teenage pranks
A mate of mine once had a party while his parents were away - usual teenage stuff - and some of us decided it would be fun to hide empty cans across the house. Having hid 11, we dutifully informed him that we'd hidden 12 and went off.

By the end of that Sunday, he'd found all of them and was going mental looking for the twelfth.
(Wed 19th Dec 2007, 16:54, More)

» Schadenfreude

Can only think of a minor one at the moment....
I'm driving with my nephew and there's a tit in a BMW right on my back bumper. I'm on a half-mile long suburban street, just about to turn onto a three-lane bypass - it's not like he's going to be delayed too long, but he's in my boot anyway.

When we get to the traffic lights prior to the aforementioned bypass, the lights are amber, so I slow down. Mr BMW decides he's had enough of me and overtakes, tyres screeching in petrol-head fury.

Only for a passing police car to pull him over.

We allowed ourselves a little laugh, but not too big so we didn't stack up bad karma. (Yes yes yes, I know that's not really how 'karma' works, but you know what I mean.)
(Thu 17th Dec 2009, 12:51, More)

» Mobile phone disasters

The phone rings in the middle of the night....
Not so much a disaster, but an odd call all the same on Saturday night.

The call came up as 'Private Number' on the screen - so it could have been a chum of mine who usually withholds her number. It being 1:30 in the morning, I decided to answer in case she was unwell (which has been known to happen). Instead of my cheery and cheeky friend, it's a male voice.

Him: 'Is this the sex line?'

Me: 'Huh?'

Him: 'Is this the number to ring about sex advice?'

Me: 'No.'

Him: 'So this isn't a line for sex advice?'

Me: 'No, not for advice.' *

Him: 'Who is this?'

Me: 'I'm a private individual. What did you want?'

Him: 'Well, I'm getting married and want some advice.'

Me: 'I'm not an advice line.'

Him: 'I don't want to marry a girl who isn't a virgin. So I want to know about if she bleeds or not, whether that means I can tell if she's a virgin.'

Me: 'I'm not an advice line, but I can answer that.'

Him: 'You can?'

Me: 'Yes. These days it doesn't mean anything.'

Him: 'Why not?'

Me: 'Everyone's built differently. A lack of bleeding isn't a sign a girl isn't a virgin, it just means she didn't bleed. Some girls are built like that.'**

Him: 'So if she doesn't have sex for two or three years, will it grow back?'

Me: 'No.'

Him: 'It'll never grow back?'

Me: 'No.'

Him: 'OK, thanks, Bye.'

And off he goes. He's not rung back for more advice so far.

* I am a contact number for a sex-related group, usually to filter out oddballs, hence the qualification.

** FFS, 1:30am is not the time for gynaecological conversations with total strangers. I know there's more to it, but not in these circumstances.
(Wed 5th Aug 2009, 17:39, More)