b3ta.com user Phelpsy
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Spotted in the T2 Times supplement:

Recently, Marcus Patrick found himself in trouble while presenting on Brighton’s Juice 107.2: “This guest was a bit of an eccentric. He’d come in to talk about the controversial Newhaven incinerator but, bizarrely and unexpectedly, started ranting, ‘How would poor Alice in Wonderland feel if her pussy…’. Suddenly lost for words, he grabbed the microphone and screamed into it, ‘Pussy! Pussy! Pussy!’

And that sums it all up really.

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Best answers to questions:

» School Trips

Back around 1994 I went on a school trip to Shrewsbury to see mines or whatever. On one of the days was a visit to some village where they dress up like the days of old and herd pigs around. On arrival I realised that I needed a nice big dump but, the first part of the day being guided, I had to wait. Come lunchtime we are sent off to do our own thing so I hurry to the shitter. Unfortunately the facilities were some what run down. They were in such a state that there was a dispenser on the wall of disposable plastic bog-seat covers so you didn’t have to get AIDS off the seat. Sadly I didn’t have the right change so I ended up deciding that I could wait until we made it back to the hostel. But the cramps took over in the later part of the day. They got to that stage where you just have to freeze or you know you’ll shit yourself.
The journey back on the coach was somewhat white knuckle feeling every bump in the road. At one point I went to lend my Gameboy to another kid and froze mid-handing due to a massive cramp. He just looked at me like I was nuts…
So we finally make it back to the hostel and I waddle inside and straight to the downstairs bog. Ahhhhhh! Sweet release! That dump still makes my all time top ten list!
Having finished and now a few stone lighter I retire to the dorm room and get changed for dinner. On heading downstairs it would seem that there is something wrong. People are walking through the lobby and winching. There are two girls on the phone who look like they might be sick. Then it hits me, the ripe smell of the cable I had laid 20 minutes earlier was thick in the air since the bog I used was off the lobby! Feigning ignorance I casually asked what the bad smell was. Their answer, and I’m still proud of this to this day, was:

“It smells like a rat died in there”

I think the handyman was sent to look for the dead animal and everything!

(Tue 12th Dec 2006, 17:47, More)

» Shit Stories: Part Number Two

Turdy McShit
Last year after a boozy Friday night I awoke needing a rather urgent piss. I stumbled downstairs to the toilet realising that I was already late for meeting my chums in town so I hurried out the door not long after.
I returned home at around 4pm to be greeted by my flatmate Dan with a smirk on his face as he announced that I had done a massive shit in the toilet that wouldn't flush away.
Strange, I thought, I didn't recall shitting a girthy stool out of my penis that morning.
I was led to the toilet where there was indeed a massive turd that stubbornly refused to flush away.
I recounted my morning’s activities to Dan including that fact that there had not been any faecal matter present when I had my piss. I started asking more questions upon which it was discovered that his new girlfriend had 'discovered' the turd.
Suddenly Dan wasn't smirking anymore but guess who was...

After the girlfriend had gone home on Sunday we had more of a laugh over it even naming the log Turdy McShit.
We used up a bottle of bleach trying to dethrone the usurper to no avail (if only I'd known about the kettle trick!). Finally on the following Wednesday I got home from work and headed straight for a piss. There was Turdy languishing in the (until then) calm waters. I directed the full spray at him trying to break bits off. I finished up and flushed and to my amazement he had gone. I ran into the living room with all the excitement of a seven year old on Christmas morning to tell Dan the news.

We never spoke of it again and she didn't lay any more cable as stubborn as Turdy.
(Wed 2nd Apr 2008, 16:42, More)

» How nerdy are you?

Speaking of Excel...
I once worked for Ann Summers in their head office (a really fun place to work and I still get the 20% staff discount ;) ). Unfortunately we didn't have internet access so I had to find other ways of entertaining myself when I got bored. The main way I wasted my time was by firing up Excel and listing out the Fibbonacci sequence (the next number is the sum of the previous two) in the left hand column then working out the ratio between numbers in the second column. Eventually you get a ratio of 1 to 1.618 - the Golden Ratio. I would then take the first 25 or so ratios and copy the sequence a half dozen times and graph them. I found that it looked exactly like a heartbeat like you see on a heart rate monitor.
I actually found myself doing this several times a day trying to refine my graph. I think i've even done it at home!
(Wed 12th Mar 2008, 18:11, More)

» Well, that taught 'em


There we were, three teenage kids hanging out in our beautiful home town (Croydon) doing what teenage kids do – throwing shit at each other. And this was Lloyds Park so it was dirty great chunks of chalk that were getting hurled around.

I remember it clearly, like it was yesterday (and not 10 years) – there I stood, projectile in hand. I spied my target, Adam, begging for some chalk to the face. I took aim and swung! But what’s this? Adam has seen my attack and is trying to dodge! The chalk curved majestically through the air missing his head by nanometres and carried on its way… towards Dan! But Dan is oblivious and takes a full chalk impact right to the head!

Dan: ARRRRgggghhhhHHHHHH!!
Me: …
Adam: …
Dan: UuuuurrrggghhHHH!
Me: …
Adam: …
Dan: YOU!
Me: oh shit
Adam: !!!
Dan: (charging angrily towards us)
Me: oh fuck
Adam: !!!
Dan: (grabs ADAM by face)
Me: ……wtf?

Well, that taught him!!
(Wed 2nd May 2007, 9:36, More)

» I hurt my rude bits

Cheddar Gorge
Summer of 1998 saw a trip to Cheddar Gorge in Somerset. I made it to the top no problem but suddenly something went horribly wrong in my scrote. The trip back down to the car park was an agonising and slow affair with my mates rushing ahead wondering why I was suddenly walking at a slow pace with a sweaty grey complexion and a locked jaw. I hobbled into a toilet cubicle and dropped my trousers to discover that my right bollock had twisted horizontally and was now protruding forward of my penis by about 2 inches! A bit of painful twisting later and I had it back round the right way after which the pain diminished incredibly quickly.
Striding back to the car with my gait returned to normal I told my mates about my testicular woes. We named the condition ‘Cheddar Gorge’.
Although it used to happen occasionally when I was younger it has stopped altogether now thankfully.
One thing that never happened was a ‘Cheddar Show Caves’ where one bollock disappears up inside the body, something I live in constant fear of to this day…

Hi, I’m new here.
(Wed 19th Jul 2006, 12:45, More)
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