b3ta.com user Fathter Puddytat Kill Kill
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Profile for Fathter Puddytat Kill Kill:
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I like guitars and beer and anything powered by petrol and fruit salad and ooh another beer yes please

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Best answers to questions:

» Terrible Parenting

Thought of another one
Also Thomas, from the post below. In 2004, we moved to a new village and wandered down to the local Londis as you do. Thomas decides he's like some crisps (I hasten to point out that they were not staple to his diet; lots of steamed veg, fish, and do on. Didn't have Fast Food until he was four. At all. I digress.)

Crisps in his lexicon were "crunchy crunch", but he couldn't pronounce that, so picture if you will, mother, father and son, in a quiet store, while said 2 year old bellows "CUNTY CUNT!" at the top of his voice.

Perhaps you had to be there.
(Fri 17th Aug 2007, 20:58, More)

» Worst Nicknames Ever

Poor sod....
There was this kid at school, I won't name him, but he looked ah....simian. So he got nicknamed Chimp.

Then the acne came, full blown face mutilating pustrosity....and the remake of The Fly had just come out.

Hence the moniker 'Brundlechimp'.

We were cruel little bastards.
(Thu 18th May 2006, 16:27, More)

» Mums

My mum had a Hillman Imp, which got crashed into at a T junction by a Hillman Hunter, one day when I was at school. She survived OK, but no-one knows if that triggered the breast cancer or not. It was diagnosed in March '76, and she died in the May; all they had back then was radiation therapy or full mastectomy.

I was six when she died, and I have very few memories of her;
- her arguing with my father while the pair stood above me, I may have had a cheap shit Scalextric ripoff on the floor
- sitting in the front seat of the Imp when she picked me up after school to go somewhere (we lived 300 yards from school so it wouldn't have been straight home)
- her putting out the laundry in the back garden on a beautiful summers day in what must have been '75
and - hackneyed as it sounds - the last time I ever saw her.
She was in bed, at home, with my father and her mother (my grandmother) present. My last words to my mum were "please don't die mummy", at which point I was shooed out by probably quite upset adults.

Sorry, no funny payoff. I need a beer and to dry my eyes.
(Fri 12th Feb 2010, 22:32, More)

» And that's the thanks I got

I knew a bloke called Shaun...
...who was (I thought) a rough diamond, and was on Hard Times, so I sold him a car (not bad, needed tax & ticket) for £25, so his missus could learn to drive.

The cunt sold it straight on for £400. I could have done that. Bastard.
(Thu 24th May 2007, 10:26, More)

» Complaining

My Dad
bought a {PC for my sister from Radio Rental back in the early 90s. (It was a 386 SX25, which shows you how long ago it was.) It was supposed to be new, but when she fired it up, there were spreadsheets etc on it from a former owner.

Dad wrote a very irate letter in which he blew all credibility by threatening them with exposure on the famous BBC TV consumer rights programme, DogWatch.
(Fri 3rd Sep 2010, 7:19, More)
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