b3ta.com user angelica666
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» We have to talk

Drama Queens
People who use the phrase "we need to talk" are simply drama queens, seeking a bit of attention and wanting to recreate some scene from an el wanky soap opera (Hollyoaks, Home and Away, The OC etc etc). The phrase is quite often said via email or text, leaving some time before the "talk" can take place. But you know damn fucking well what the "talk" is about, hence the user of the phrase being a dumb fuck of a human being who needs a bitch slap for being so damn preppy. Best way to deal with this is to use the well known phrase "FUCK OFF KNOBHEAD".

Ah that felt good
(Sat 21st Apr 2007, 19:26, More)

» Best Graffiti Ever

....years ago while doing my A Levels, we had some fat, sweaty trainee teacher person taking a class. At one point, he was droning on about something and reached behind him to pull down the blackboard thing (this was obviously in the days before those plastic whiteboard things). Now imagine trainee's wonder at why twenty 17 year olds had all started sniggering and worst still, why the real teacher was pissing himself laughing..... what trainee didn't realise was that as he'd rolled the board down he had revealed a little graffiti that someone had left behind:

"Zippy and Bungle
Went to the jungle
Having lots of fun
Zippy got silly
And took out his willy
And stuck it up Bungle's bum"

(Fri 4th May 2007, 13:13, More)

» Best Graffiti Ever

Slightly un-PC
Saw this on a London-bound train after 7/7. On the posters saying what to do in the light of an emergency there is a little note that if you have to leave the train, take care on the tracks and watch out for approaching trains. However, some wag had scratched out "trains" and inserted "Muslims"....... obviously the political-correctness brigade would be up in arms but I had to allow myself a little smirk on a miserable day into work!
(Fri 4th May 2007, 11:40, More)

» Personal Hygiene

Hairy neighbours
my next door neighbours are total cunts from cuntland. If there was a degree in cuntyness, they'd excel. Not only are they obnoxious, loud, thick and generally in-bred, they're also gross. To demonstrate: last summer, I heard the dulcet tones of the thick old git bellowing out in his back garden. I happened to be upstairs in my abode so thought I'd be a nosey arse and see what the smelly old sod was up to. Imagine my horror to see him almost starkers, sat on a stool in the middle of his garden, being shaved by his fat wife? Now, I'm not talking about a shave a la barber shop shave. I'm talking shaving his body. The main makes the fucking yeti look smooth as a baby's bum. This man is covered in wiry, grey hair, all over his hideous body. And his fatty arbuckle wife was merrily snipping away at his hairy body, letting wisps of fur float on the summer breeze, into my fucking garden!!! Filthy, filthy old gits!
(Mon 26th Mar 2007, 12:36, More)

» My Greatest Regrets

Biggest fuckwit in the world
I deeply regret going out with a complete knobhead who goes by the name of Fuckwit (ok, ok so maybe that's not his REAL name but it should have been so that is why me and pals re-christened him with the appropraite tag). I met Fuckwit many moons ago at uni and all seemed well - lots of laughs and good times and we started "going out". All was well, though he did demonstrate some odd highly strung tendencies, such as huffing off in the night when I'd had a row with one of our flatmates (yep, I made the mistake of living with the nonce as well) and he couldn't handle the fact that he didn't have the balls to stand up for me. But I just let those kind of things slip.

So, things started getting a bit weird and i realised that he wasn't just highly strung - he was nuts. As in psycho. As in total schizo.

First off, he starts with the "where are you going?", "who did you talk to today at uni?", "who was that man you spoke to?" etc etc. Then he'd go through receipts to see what I'd been spending MY money on. Again, I thought it was a bit odd but nothing really to worry about. He upped his game by resorting to personal attacks - he'd tell me I was fat (I weighed 7 stone), tell me I was ugly, criticise my clothes, especially when I was about to go out, tell me to drop out of uni because I'd never pass. It had such a devastating affect on my confidence. He played on my insecurities and it worked. It was a gradual thing so by the time I realised what was happening it was too late - my confidence to leave was zapped.

It came to a head when he spiked my drink with some form of sedative on a night out, took me home, left me there alone (with me drifting in and out of consciousness and not knowing what the hell was happening to me) and then telling his friends that I was an alcoholic and making his life a nightmare!! So naturally, they started making my life hell too.

Anyway, my friends and family sorted me out and 3 months after kicking the skinny, weasly little scrote to the kerb I was back to my usual self. I got my degree, got a job, and, as my best friend told me, I got my sparkle back. He, however, is still a skinny, weasly scrote.

Oops, I rambled on quite a bit but it's good for the soul :-)
(Fri 6th Oct 2006, 15:35, More)
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