Profile for DrPrunesquallor:
Male.
Early Thirties.
Laziest (and nerdiest) man in Hertfordshire.
Easily bribed with Cheese and Onion McCoys.
Used to be Kitten Overlord, but decided it was time for a change.
There you go.
Recent front page messages:
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Best answers to questions:
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- a member for 16 years, 10 months and 3 days
- has posted 9 messages on the main board
- has posted 2 messages on the talk board
- has posted 1078 messages on the links board
- (including 53 links)
- has posted 14 stories and 30 replies on question of the week
- They liked 47 pictures, 97 links, 0 talk posts, and 5 qotw answers.
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Male.
Early Thirties.
Laziest (and nerdiest) man in Hertfordshire.
Easily bribed with Cheese and Onion McCoys.
Used to be Kitten Overlord, but decided it was time for a change.
There you go.
Recent front page messages:
none
Best answers to questions:
» Conned
Poo-muncher
Watching and having a polite drinky-poo one night in a Northen Uni bar, a large rugby chap suddenly, and loudly tells his tablefull of fellow drinkers:
"If you put a tenner on the table, I'll go and shite in a pint, come back and drink it!"
After a lot of "he'll never's" and "he won'ts", the fellow drinkers clubbed in a tenner. As I was drunk and curious, I chipped in a quid - after all, you know you'd pay to see this...
The chap then disappears to the toilets, and returns with a large brown mound in his pint glass, which, after a little crowd teasing, he takes a manly swig from.
I'm not ashamed to say I nearly barfed, as did everyone else. He then, majestically, sweeps the money off the table, pockets it, and says: "It were only a Mars Bar, you twats!".
I didn't begrudge him the pound, the whole performance was sheer showmanship.
(Thu 18th Oct 2007, 18:00, More)
Poo-muncher
Watching and having a polite drinky-poo one night in a Northen Uni bar, a large rugby chap suddenly, and loudly tells his tablefull of fellow drinkers:
"If you put a tenner on the table, I'll go and shite in a pint, come back and drink it!"
After a lot of "he'll never's" and "he won'ts", the fellow drinkers clubbed in a tenner. As I was drunk and curious, I chipped in a quid - after all, you know you'd pay to see this...
The chap then disappears to the toilets, and returns with a large brown mound in his pint glass, which, after a little crowd teasing, he takes a manly swig from.
I'm not ashamed to say I nearly barfed, as did everyone else. He then, majestically, sweeps the money off the table, pockets it, and says: "It were only a Mars Bar, you twats!".
I didn't begrudge him the pound, the whole performance was sheer showmanship.
(Thu 18th Oct 2007, 18:00, More)
» Evil Pranks
Washing powder + Fairy Liquid + Toilets= Soapy
A gem from Uni when I lived (or more existed) in halls, which were filled with loud-mouthed twunts. Being a quiet type, I never went to the on-masse nightclub of a friday which the rest of my hall did, but stayed in having a wee smokette with some fellow souls.
Every friday, at 2 am, the twunts (about 20 of them would return, pissed as gorillas and about as loud and obnoxious) came back and proceeded to shout, barf, and generally keep me awake till dawn and harass the girls who lived in my block, until one night I could take no more - I'm the kind of guy who lets things bubble under the surface, then finally explodes like a fabulous Roman candle of rage.
So, on that night, one of my stoner chums left my room, silently, and disappeared for a bit. He returned, giggling like a loon and announced "I've left teeth marks in every piece of cheese I can find in the fridges".
I was inspired, however something more needed to be done.
I took as much fairy liquid (a common UK brand of washing up liquid - particularly bubbly) and washing powder as I could find, and, cleverly for a stoned bloke, poured them into the cistern of the toilet which was below my room.
I then retired to a safe distance and waited.
At 2 am, right on cue, the twunts returned, pissed as ever.
Joy of joys, one I particularly hated (he was a believer that all clothes should be designer, he was a mummy's boy in a creepy way, and God help any woman he fancied) needed to barf. He had been holding it in in the taxi, and legged it upstairs to the toilet to puke.
Guess which toilet he used.
That flush/scream combo is the noise that will make me smile in hell.
They never found out it was me, as I had a reputation for being the "stoned bloke who never even moves."
(Fri 14th Dec 2007, 11:35, More)
Washing powder + Fairy Liquid + Toilets= Soapy
A gem from Uni when I lived (or more existed) in halls, which were filled with loud-mouthed twunts. Being a quiet type, I never went to the on-masse nightclub of a friday which the rest of my hall did, but stayed in having a wee smokette with some fellow souls.
Every friday, at 2 am, the twunts (about 20 of them would return, pissed as gorillas and about as loud and obnoxious) came back and proceeded to shout, barf, and generally keep me awake till dawn and harass the girls who lived in my block, until one night I could take no more - I'm the kind of guy who lets things bubble under the surface, then finally explodes like a fabulous Roman candle of rage.
So, on that night, one of my stoner chums left my room, silently, and disappeared for a bit. He returned, giggling like a loon and announced "I've left teeth marks in every piece of cheese I can find in the fridges".
I was inspired, however something more needed to be done.
I took as much fairy liquid (a common UK brand of washing up liquid - particularly bubbly) and washing powder as I could find, and, cleverly for a stoned bloke, poured them into the cistern of the toilet which was below my room.
I then retired to a safe distance and waited.
At 2 am, right on cue, the twunts returned, pissed as ever.
Joy of joys, one I particularly hated (he was a believer that all clothes should be designer, he was a mummy's boy in a creepy way, and God help any woman he fancied) needed to barf. He had been holding it in in the taxi, and legged it upstairs to the toilet to puke.
Guess which toilet he used.
That flush/scream combo is the noise that will make me smile in hell.
They never found out it was me, as I had a reputation for being the "stoned bloke who never even moves."
(Fri 14th Dec 2007, 11:35, More)
» Trolls
2 pages in and no-one's mentioned the greatest ever troll
Detritus The Troll, former splatter and now decent, upstanding watchman.
It was Detritus's interrogation technique to repeat the same questions over and over until the suspect cracked:
"It was you what done it, everyone saw you, it was you what dun it wasn't it"
"Yes, yes I done it. Now please tell me what it was I did!"
Also:
"Slab Just say Arrgharrgharrghnonononopleaseno aaargh".
The troll's a genius, I tell you.
(Thu 19th May 2011, 15:58, More)
2 pages in and no-one's mentioned the greatest ever troll
Detritus The Troll, former splatter and now decent, upstanding watchman.
It was Detritus's interrogation technique to repeat the same questions over and over until the suspect cracked:
"It was you what done it, everyone saw you, it was you what dun it wasn't it"
"Yes, yes I done it. Now please tell me what it was I did!"
Also:
"Slab Just say Arrgharrgharrghnonononopleaseno aaargh".
The troll's a genius, I tell you.
(Thu 19th May 2011, 15:58, More)
» Eccentrics
The Accordian Guy (St Albans)
There's a guy in St Albans who must be at least 70, and every Saturday he stands outside a road in St Albans and plays the accordian (very well) for the entertainment of small children.
He always wears a stripey french-style jersey and a beret. He also has an original "Humpty Dumpty" from Playschool (if anyone remembers THAT from the early 80s) attached to the front of his box. Mrs Overlord remembers him singing "Happy Birthday" to her on her fifth birthday, and he's still going strong.
He's there in all weathers, and neither hail nor flood nor gloom of night shall stop him.
Apparently he has a group of admirers on Facebook, and I can see why. He's one of the very few people who make the world a bit more cheerful, and for that he deserves nothing but praise.
(Fri 31st Oct 2008, 18:31, More)
The Accordian Guy (St Albans)
There's a guy in St Albans who must be at least 70, and every Saturday he stands outside a road in St Albans and plays the accordian (very well) for the entertainment of small children.
He always wears a stripey french-style jersey and a beret. He also has an original "Humpty Dumpty" from Playschool (if anyone remembers THAT from the early 80s) attached to the front of his box. Mrs Overlord remembers him singing "Happy Birthday" to her on her fifth birthday, and he's still going strong.
He's there in all weathers, and neither hail nor flood nor gloom of night shall stop him.
Apparently he has a group of admirers on Facebook, and I can see why. He's one of the very few people who make the world a bit more cheerful, and for that he deserves nothing but praise.
(Fri 31st Oct 2008, 18:31, More)
» This book changed my life
3 pages in and no-one's mentioned the Hitchhiker's Guide
So I will.
The only book I've ever started re-reading as soon as I've finished.
"Hey doll, is this guy boring you? Why don't you talk to me, I'm from another planet"
Best pick-up line ever.
If you've never read this, I urge you to find a copy on ebay NOW. Anyone who likes b3ta will like this book, simple as that.
If you've seen the film, do what I did and have a Pangalactic Gargle Blaster, then read the book.
(Thu 15th May 2008, 17:55, More)
3 pages in and no-one's mentioned the Hitchhiker's Guide
So I will.
The only book I've ever started re-reading as soon as I've finished.
"Hey doll, is this guy boring you? Why don't you talk to me, I'm from another planet"
Best pick-up line ever.
If you've never read this, I urge you to find a copy on ebay NOW. Anyone who likes b3ta will like this book, simple as that.
If you've seen the film, do what I did and have a Pangalactic Gargle Blaster, then read the book.
(Thu 15th May 2008, 17:55, More)