b3ta.com user bollox, not again
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» We have to talk

keep it simple
her: so how are you feeling about us?
me: really good
her: i disagree

have to admit that was genius in brevity.
(Sat 21st Apr 2007, 23:34, More)

» Inappropriate crushes

she was only a grocer's daughter
1979. first year of high school, first year of the shiny new tory government, first year i can remember shining my gentleman's accessory...
ladies and gentleman i present - maggie thatcher.
it was so so wrong. my fervently socialist parents would have bust blood vessels on the spot, my trendy lefty liberal mates of teh now would abandon me en masse for admitting this, but;
there was just something about the armoured coiffure, the stilted voice, the aura of domination...i was a naughty boy and i needed correction. maggie knew what i wanted. i do believe the first time i ever spilt man milk was for dear dear margaret.
(Sat 30th Sep 2006, 19:02, More)

» Bastard Colleagues

Coming to the end of my mental health nurse training, i have worked with a wide variety of staff, most of whom it can be said are really nice, friendly people.
Not 'X'. When i first arrived at my practical placement, a community mental health team, (assertive outreach if anyone is interested), I was let into the building and shown to the kitchen to make myself a hot drink. Walked into the kitchen - a small group of ladies was gathered around the kettle spraffing on about their diets. cheerily introducing myself as the new student I was met with.....
silence. feeling a bit awkward I made a coffee and went to the office.
Things did not get better. my mentor 'X', a late 20's lady with ample bulges and clothes several sizes too small seemed to take an instant dislike to me from day one, mostly low level ignoring type shit(and yes she had been in the kitchen) but the rest of the team were ok, so I didn't really care. I'm a diligent student and knew I would pass - any real shit off her and I would have called in the union and the university for a complaint el pronto.
She really was a fuckwit though. Her and the admin staff, (the kitchen mafia) were all on 'diets', which seemed to mean scoff all the cakes you can, then not eat (at all) the day of flab fighters,(Thursday) being miserable cunts and generally making the place nice and cheery - not.
I very quickly decided that Thursday was the day i would buy VERY nice cakes and share them around the team, struggling to hide my amusement as I noticed the greedy glint in the eyes of 'X' and her admin buddies, (much like the look in the eye of a sailor on shore leave) as they would refuse the cakes, it being flab fighters day.
Talk about self deluding.
(Thu 24th Jan 2008, 20:48, More)

» And that's the thanks I got

very poor indeed
After spending the evening drinking expensive booze with Mark Thatcher in a swanky London club I found myself embroiled in a plot to overthrow the government of a small African country. After handing over a cheque for a sizeable part of my inheritance, I was promised rich rewards and as many heavily armoured military vehicles as I could ever wish for.
Three months later with the coup in tatters and Thatcher on the lam, I was sent the vehicle log book for a tatty APC by one of the remaining un-jailed conspirators.
Is that all the tanks I get?
(Tue 29th May 2007, 16:17, More)

» Personal Hygiene

How dare you fart before the Prime Minister?....I'm sorry, I didn't know it was his turn
Wannabe world statesman Tony Blair would no doubt be flattered some by a comparison with Winston Churchill. However, it is sadly not for his fine leadership of a country in crisis, or indeed for his highly developed oratory abilities, but for a singularly well-kept secret previously known only to his cabinet chums and the odd unfortunate visiting dignitary.
It's a well-known fact in political circles that Tony Blair is possessed of the most chronic, dead-rat corpse smelling, evil flatulence known to mankind. Apparently Winston was a real stinky arse too, probably down to the suet puddings and guinness. Tony, it is conjectured, owes his rear turbulence to the experimental 'new age' diets Cherie keeps thinking up for him, particularly the cabbage and prune juice smoothies she puts in his lunch box.
A rare photograph of the downloading of one these political brownwares can be seen here;


you will note the astonishment of John Prescott, amazed that his mild bitter and tripe pie fueled parping has been trumped by a southern jessie, while Tony just makes a laugh out of his mouth.

Length? about 3.7 seconds apparently, but the microphone didn't pick it up
(Thu 22nd Mar 2007, 21:48, More)
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