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- a member for 15 years, 7 months and 3 days
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- has posted 7 stories and 11 replies on question of the week
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» Anonymous
I've recently been getting back into Origami
something I used to love doing as a kid. I made a dragon last night. Pretty chuffed with myself.
Anyway whilst practising I've been making simple stuff on the move, and leaving it when I've finished. So if you are on public transport or a cafe in London and see a small crane, lilly or bear folded on coloured paper, I hope you like it.
(Thu 14th Jan 2010, 23:36, More)
I've recently been getting back into Origami
something I used to love doing as a kid. I made a dragon last night. Pretty chuffed with myself.
Anyway whilst practising I've been making simple stuff on the move, and leaving it when I've finished. So if you are on public transport or a cafe in London and see a small crane, lilly or bear folded on coloured paper, I hope you like it.
(Thu 14th Jan 2010, 23:36, More)
» Call Centres
ARE YOU A GRADUATE?
Every year, middle-class white boys from comfortable homes leave the comfort of their chosen seat of learning, armed with the knowledge that will build them a sturdy and exciting future. But for many, university life is not a springboard for happiness, but merely the last morsel of joy before a long and grueling famine beset with disappointment, alienation and actual work.
Every year, thousands of hugely incisive and intelligent minds go to waste, suffocated by nine to five jobs in filing, IT and project management. That's literally years of life experience and world knowledge gleaned from lecturers, Wikipedia and TV shows, knowledge that could be put towards solving world hunger, establishing a new, workable form of world capitalism, and unveiling the dark conspiracy behind 9/11.
Some of these poor souls manage to adjust, rescuing their sanity by blending in, getting married, talking football and occasionally sounding off about something they read in the Guardian during dinner parties. But many never quite recover, and are doomed to a life of talking over other people about the eternal truths they learned on QI, fighting with other graduates on the internet, and namedropping their degree at every opportunity in the hope of being considered "the foremost knowledge" on something each time it comes up.
Several of these people will die lonely deaths. Some alone at their desks, hearts popped from a particularly violent row on the internet. Others dumped in a ditch, shortly after "educating" a paramilitary group about their own life history using facts they'd found on the internet.
It doesn't have to be this way.
Did your mother tell you that you were her special boy?
Did your lecturers give you high marks for repeating the nonsense they spouted while they were drunk?
Did you mistake a humanities degree for a certificate of unparalleled intelligence, as opposed to a "special award" for being able to perform simple tasks without drooling for three years, handed out to literally tens of thousands of other well-off kids a year? A certificate with about as much real-life worth as this one?
Do you still want people to know that you're intelligent, 24 hours a day, no matter the subject?
You need BORECORP's "U-SO-SMART-LINE".
Like many premium-rate phone lines, we have young, beautiful and single women waiting to hear from YOU. But unlike other premium-rate phone lines, these women don't say anything, allowing you to talk for literally hours about all the stuff you know about life, film, music, politics, social issues and even other people's lives, without anyone telling you that you're a self-important blowhard who really should shut up before you embarrass yourself.
Do you believe that Edward Scissorhands was really a subtle metaphor for the alienation of the American child from the MTV generation? Do you think that some of the continuity in Jaws was actually pretty poor, due to the troubles suffered in animating the shark during filming? Does society really need to realise that all the troubles in the West Bank actually stem from a long association with certain factions which we won't go into here because no one would probably understand?
CALL NOW. Our operators are standing by.
We listen to you, so no other poor bastard has to.
(Calls charged at £30 per minute, plus normal network rate. But it's okay, because Daddy will pay for it)
p.s. I cannot take credit for this, it was written by a friend of mine (who hasn't got an account, in his words "I have no idea how to post on B3ta, but I fear it may involve signing up and registering. I suspect that's where madness lies."), But I know he checks these pages...
(Wed 9th Sep 2009, 13:56, More)
ARE YOU A GRADUATE?
Every year, middle-class white boys from comfortable homes leave the comfort of their chosen seat of learning, armed with the knowledge that will build them a sturdy and exciting future. But for many, university life is not a springboard for happiness, but merely the last morsel of joy before a long and grueling famine beset with disappointment, alienation and actual work.
Every year, thousands of hugely incisive and intelligent minds go to waste, suffocated by nine to five jobs in filing, IT and project management. That's literally years of life experience and world knowledge gleaned from lecturers, Wikipedia and TV shows, knowledge that could be put towards solving world hunger, establishing a new, workable form of world capitalism, and unveiling the dark conspiracy behind 9/11.
Some of these poor souls manage to adjust, rescuing their sanity by blending in, getting married, talking football and occasionally sounding off about something they read in the Guardian during dinner parties. But many never quite recover, and are doomed to a life of talking over other people about the eternal truths they learned on QI, fighting with other graduates on the internet, and namedropping their degree at every opportunity in the hope of being considered "the foremost knowledge" on something each time it comes up.
Several of these people will die lonely deaths. Some alone at their desks, hearts popped from a particularly violent row on the internet. Others dumped in a ditch, shortly after "educating" a paramilitary group about their own life history using facts they'd found on the internet.
It doesn't have to be this way.
Did your mother tell you that you were her special boy?
Did your lecturers give you high marks for repeating the nonsense they spouted while they were drunk?
Did you mistake a humanities degree for a certificate of unparalleled intelligence, as opposed to a "special award" for being able to perform simple tasks without drooling for three years, handed out to literally tens of thousands of other well-off kids a year? A certificate with about as much real-life worth as this one?
Do you still want people to know that you're intelligent, 24 hours a day, no matter the subject?
You need BORECORP's "U-SO-SMART-LINE".
Like many premium-rate phone lines, we have young, beautiful and single women waiting to hear from YOU. But unlike other premium-rate phone lines, these women don't say anything, allowing you to talk for literally hours about all the stuff you know about life, film, music, politics, social issues and even other people's lives, without anyone telling you that you're a self-important blowhard who really should shut up before you embarrass yourself.
Do you believe that Edward Scissorhands was really a subtle metaphor for the alienation of the American child from the MTV generation? Do you think that some of the continuity in Jaws was actually pretty poor, due to the troubles suffered in animating the shark during filming? Does society really need to realise that all the troubles in the West Bank actually stem from a long association with certain factions which we won't go into here because no one would probably understand?
CALL NOW. Our operators are standing by.
We listen to you, so no other poor bastard has to.
(Calls charged at £30 per minute, plus normal network rate. But it's okay, because Daddy will pay for it)
p.s. I cannot take credit for this, it was written by a friend of mine (who hasn't got an account, in his words "I have no idea how to post on B3ta, but I fear it may involve signing up and registering. I suspect that's where madness lies."), But I know he checks these pages...
(Wed 9th Sep 2009, 13:56, More)
» Buses
Not My Story....
....but it needs to be told, cause it's brilliant. Will make you feel GLEE* after reading.
www.houseofpistard.com/2008/01/toby-bus-driver.html
Lets hear it for Toby.
*Guaranteed or money back.
(Wed 1st Jul 2009, 11:32, More)
Not My Story....
....but it needs to be told, cause it's brilliant. Will make you feel GLEE* after reading.
www.houseofpistard.com/2008/01/toby-bus-driver.html
Lets hear it for Toby.
*Guaranteed or money back.
(Wed 1st Jul 2009, 11:32, More)
» The most childish thing you've done as an adult
Home time early!
My friend of mine works for the Department of Health. He's just been telling me that at 4.30pm today (Friday) a suspect package was delivered, and the bomb squad had to come. So everyone fucked off home early.
He said the atmosphere was just like a fire drill at school and everyone was really happy. There were high level civil servants shouting "Home early! I love bomb threats." and "Can you imagine if they blew up the offices? We wouldn't have to go to work on Monday."
(Fri 18th Sep 2009, 21:10, More)
Home time early!
My friend of mine works for the Department of Health. He's just been telling me that at 4.30pm today (Friday) a suspect package was delivered, and the bomb squad had to come. So everyone fucked off home early.
He said the atmosphere was just like a fire drill at school and everyone was really happy. There were high level civil servants shouting "Home early! I love bomb threats." and "Can you imagine if they blew up the offices? We wouldn't have to go to work on Monday."
(Fri 18th Sep 2009, 21:10, More)
» Teenage Crushes - Part Two
Sarah.
I fancied this girl something rotten for three years at school. There was something about her. Couldn't explain it. I really liked her.
Eventually my mates found out. Then her mates found out. Then she found out. Then the whole school found out. It became a bit of a running joke, she wasn't interested, and her mates proper teased me about it, but I don't really have much shame.
This kept up for years (most cringe-worthy was when I trying to flirt with her on a DofE expedition, which only brought on more humiliation) with no success.
Then in year 10, everyone started going to this cheesy under 21s nightclub called Deep. Spent the evening hanging out with her and her mates. She warned me not to try anything on (to which I replied "nah I'm over all that, just happy being friends" lying through my teeth). It was cool, she taught me how not to dance like an idiot, and it was great. Then at the end of the night the slow songs came on, I asked her to dance, and I received the snog I'd been waiting three years for. It was AMAZING. Her lips were huge and soft, just the right amount of tongue, still one of the best kisses I've ever had.
The epilogue was we went on a couple of dates but we agreed it wasn't working, mainly cause we were both weirded out cause she was taller than me. Oh well.
(Thu 5th Nov 2009, 20:42, More)
Sarah.
I fancied this girl something rotten for three years at school. There was something about her. Couldn't explain it. I really liked her.
Eventually my mates found out. Then her mates found out. Then she found out. Then the whole school found out. It became a bit of a running joke, she wasn't interested, and her mates proper teased me about it, but I don't really have much shame.
This kept up for years (most cringe-worthy was when I trying to flirt with her on a DofE expedition, which only brought on more humiliation) with no success.
Then in year 10, everyone started going to this cheesy under 21s nightclub called Deep. Spent the evening hanging out with her and her mates. She warned me not to try anything on (to which I replied "nah I'm over all that, just happy being friends" lying through my teeth). It was cool, she taught me how not to dance like an idiot, and it was great. Then at the end of the night the slow songs came on, I asked her to dance, and I received the snog I'd been waiting three years for. It was AMAZING. Her lips were huge and soft, just the right amount of tongue, still one of the best kisses I've ever had.
The epilogue was we went on a couple of dates but we agreed it wasn't working, mainly cause we were both weirded out cause she was taller than me. Oh well.
(Thu 5th Nov 2009, 20:42, More)