Profile for dresden:
i don't take kindly to idiots. i'm doing my own thing. whatever petty argument you make, will just lower my opinion of you even further.
howver if you are one of the intelligent, funny people left, do message.
if not? do DIE cunty fucking DIE.
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- a member for 16 years, 1 month and 4 days
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- has posted 7 stories and 2 replies on question of the week
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i don't take kindly to idiots. i'm doing my own thing. whatever petty argument you make, will just lower my opinion of you even further.
howver if you are one of the intelligent, funny people left, do message.
if not? do DIE cunty fucking DIE.
Recent front page messages:
none
Best answers to questions:
» Customers from Hell
Horses
Never, ever, ever work in a tack shop. Ever. I've been doing so for the last 11 months, lovely store at lovely Equestrian Centre, full of lovely (genuinely lovely) rich people and as you all know, horses aren't a poor mans sport, they cost a fucking fortune, it's still pricey if you don't own your own. 99% of my convos go like this;
"Good Afternoon, how can i help?"
"I'm enquiring about the cost of riding lessons, but we haven't got a fortune"
*then i'd suggest Halfords for a pushbike*
"right, so, *insert blather about highly overpriced sport*"
"oh, that really is a LOT of money, could you not do it any cheaper?"
well of course mam, the clients we've had for 20 years have to pay that much, but you're dear FAT HORRIBLE CHILD FROM THE COUNCIL ESTATE, sorry 'Shaznay' can have it free because you've given me a really desperate look and changed the tone of your voice.
At which point i kindly have to explain that the 50 pound an hour is unfortunately, non negotiable (whuddathunkit?)and they get irritated with ME, because I set the rules dont you know? and on the whole act like i'm the worst sales asst. ever and that i really have insulted them by not lowering the price.
I waste a good 2 hours a day, when i actually have important stuff to do, explaining that horses aren't for poor people. I really don't feel bad about it anymore. Just irritated.
so in short, if poor...
FUCK OFF.
i reiterate
fuck
off.
(p.s, i'm not rich, nicer end of the working class and i actually took this job so i wouldn't have to deal with the chav level commoners.)
(Thu 4th Sep 2008, 20:14, More)
Horses
Never, ever, ever work in a tack shop. Ever. I've been doing so for the last 11 months, lovely store at lovely Equestrian Centre, full of lovely (genuinely lovely) rich people and as you all know, horses aren't a poor mans sport, they cost a fucking fortune, it's still pricey if you don't own your own. 99% of my convos go like this;
"Good Afternoon, how can i help?"
"I'm enquiring about the cost of riding lessons, but we haven't got a fortune"
*then i'd suggest Halfords for a pushbike*
"right, so, *insert blather about highly overpriced sport*"
"oh, that really is a LOT of money, could you not do it any cheaper?"
well of course mam, the clients we've had for 20 years have to pay that much, but you're dear FAT HORRIBLE CHILD FROM THE COUNCIL ESTATE, sorry 'Shaznay' can have it free because you've given me a really desperate look and changed the tone of your voice.
At which point i kindly have to explain that the 50 pound an hour is unfortunately, non negotiable (whuddathunkit?)and they get irritated with ME, because I set the rules dont you know? and on the whole act like i'm the worst sales asst. ever and that i really have insulted them by not lowering the price.
I waste a good 2 hours a day, when i actually have important stuff to do, explaining that horses aren't for poor people. I really don't feel bad about it anymore. Just irritated.
so in short, if poor...
FUCK OFF.
i reiterate
fuck
off.
(p.s, i'm not rich, nicer end of the working class and i actually took this job so i wouldn't have to deal with the chav level commoners.)
(Thu 4th Sep 2008, 20:14, More)
» Siblings
oh just fucking post already, shitty computer *angry face*
I have too many siblings, producing too many funny stories to tell you them all, so here are the best...
my all time favourite sibling fuck ups
****waaaaaaaaaaaavy time lines****
Getting out of the car after a 4 hour stint of 'are we there yet' drowning out anything i attempted to drown them out with [i.e heapdohnes], we arrive. Hayling bloody Island. This is what i suffered for? a wooden outhouse and a muddy field? fucksocks.
But alas, Laura, in all her blondeness, rescued the day with such a stupid act, i laughed till i was actually sick.....upon attempting to get out of the car, she shut her thumb in the door. Not just a little bit, near decaptiation of everything above the joint. (not the funny bit, i love that kid)
Now, at the time, in the other hand, she had a cheese sandwhich. "what to do" thinks she...
I KNOW, i'll keep hold of my sandwhich and WRENCH my thumb out, removing any semblance of flesh, muscle or nail above the joint.....
then run around, pissing blood from one hand and a cheese sandwhich in the other.
she never ever once dropped the sandwhich.
you had to be there.
she also walked barefoot straight through a red hot disposable barbeque without so much as wincing, and then went on (a few years later) to attempt to run backwards on wet concrete, fall and break both her arms.
This kid has 10 A-B grade GCSE's, speaks 3 languages and is now getting straight As in 5 genuine academic A levels (i.e not fucking 'media studies').
&& as for my brother, i have actual proof of at least 3 different trips to A&E on the grounds of him getting something stuck somewhere it really shouldn't be (and we are talking EVERY orifice at this point)
Oh and Claire (the older, slightly retarded one?) has fairly chronic asthma. She's had it all of her 20 years, she knows how bad it is, she knows what sets it off and what to avoid at all costs, i.e hot, dusty places, cigarettes & feather pillows.
So imagine my mirth ( i really cant stand her) when we get a phonecall from Egypt(Claires choice of hoiday location) informing us she is in intensive care and will probably die as a result of an attack brought on by...oh yeah, you guessed, her smoking cigarettes, in bed, lying back, on a feather pillow, in Egypt.
like i said, they're a odd bunch, but at least they're not boring.
(Mon 29th Dec 2008, 15:43, More)
oh just fucking post already, shitty computer *angry face*
I have too many siblings, producing too many funny stories to tell you them all, so here are the best...
my all time favourite sibling fuck ups
****waaaaaaaaaaaavy time lines****
Getting out of the car after a 4 hour stint of 'are we there yet' drowning out anything i attempted to drown them out with [i.e heapdohnes], we arrive. Hayling bloody Island. This is what i suffered for? a wooden outhouse and a muddy field? fucksocks.
But alas, Laura, in all her blondeness, rescued the day with such a stupid act, i laughed till i was actually sick.....upon attempting to get out of the car, she shut her thumb in the door. Not just a little bit, near decaptiation of everything above the joint. (not the funny bit, i love that kid)
Now, at the time, in the other hand, she had a cheese sandwhich. "what to do" thinks she...
I KNOW, i'll keep hold of my sandwhich and WRENCH my thumb out, removing any semblance of flesh, muscle or nail above the joint.....
then run around, pissing blood from one hand and a cheese sandwhich in the other.
she never ever once dropped the sandwhich.
you had to be there.
she also walked barefoot straight through a red hot disposable barbeque without so much as wincing, and then went on (a few years later) to attempt to run backwards on wet concrete, fall and break both her arms.
This kid has 10 A-B grade GCSE's, speaks 3 languages and is now getting straight As in 5 genuine academic A levels (i.e not fucking 'media studies').
&& as for my brother, i have actual proof of at least 3 different trips to A&E on the grounds of him getting something stuck somewhere it really shouldn't be (and we are talking EVERY orifice at this point)
Oh and Claire (the older, slightly retarded one?) has fairly chronic asthma. She's had it all of her 20 years, she knows how bad it is, she knows what sets it off and what to avoid at all costs, i.e hot, dusty places, cigarettes & feather pillows.
So imagine my mirth ( i really cant stand her) when we get a phonecall from Egypt(Claires choice of hoiday location) informing us she is in intensive care and will probably die as a result of an attack brought on by...oh yeah, you guessed, her smoking cigarettes, in bed, lying back, on a feather pillow, in Egypt.
like i said, they're a odd bunch, but at least they're not boring.
(Mon 29th Dec 2008, 15:43, More)
» Best Films Ever
hmmm
Ghost World- nobodies seen it, highly recommended.
ive only been lurking here a year or 2 and yeah, this is my 2nd post and yeah the QOTWs are poor now.
(Fri 18th Jul 2008, 12:08, More)
hmmm
Ghost World- nobodies seen it, highly recommended.
ive only been lurking here a year or 2 and yeah, this is my 2nd post and yeah the QOTWs are poor now.
(Fri 18th Jul 2008, 12:08, More)
» Pet Peeves
Sat-nav
i've just a pulled return trip from Reading to Gloucester for my work experience placement...
the sat-nav, sent us via BRISTOL- i told my mum "the motorway signs say THAT WAY"
everyone else is going "that way"-
my mum grew up 20 minutes from where we're going, and "normally goes that way"
but we still ended up in Bristol because the fucking sat-nav says so. It took near 3 hours. i nagivate back (using nothing but road signs and talent- i can't even drive), we're on STRAIGHT ROAD for 52 miles and it takes an hour & 45 minutes.
fucking cunting machines I HATE THEM.
*pop*
no length, no girth
sheer talent.
(Fri 2nd May 2008, 23:17, More)
Sat-nav
i've just a pulled return trip from Reading to Gloucester for my work experience placement...
the sat-nav, sent us via BRISTOL- i told my mum "the motorway signs say THAT WAY"
everyone else is going "that way"-
my mum grew up 20 minutes from where we're going, and "normally goes that way"
but we still ended up in Bristol because the fucking sat-nav says so. It took near 3 hours. i nagivate back (using nothing but road signs and talent- i can't even drive), we're on STRAIGHT ROAD for 52 miles and it takes an hour & 45 minutes.
fucking cunting machines I HATE THEM.
*pop*
no length, no girth
sheer talent.
(Fri 2nd May 2008, 23:17, More)