b3ta.com user Psymon_Spark
You are not logged in. Login or Signup
Profile for Psymon_Spark:
Profile Info:

Favourite Cheese: Stilton
Favourite Vegetable: Artichoke
Favourite Beer: Guinness

Recent front page messages:


none

Best answers to questions:

» The most childish thing you've done as an adult

The View From Above
I work in the construction industry, there are a few perks, liquid lunches, knocking off early with the pretense of 'going to carry out a site visit' and the joy of afternoons spent oggling attractive ladies from first floor scaffolding.

Occasionally i'm entrusted with designing something, I was recently asked to redesign a service yard. Keen to impress I read up on required passing distances and the turning circle of an artic lorry etc, I then crafted my 'excellent' design. Only the very second I'd finished drawing it up I realised that what I had infact designed was a massive cock and balls threaded between the backs of the shops either side of the yard.

I've put it in for planning permission, give me six weeks and i'll tell you how it went.

img.photobucket.com/albums/v449/Psymon_Spark/qotwpiccy.jpg

Road names changed to protect the innocent my job
(Thu 17th Sep 2009, 17:04, More)

» Schadenfreude

Bombs Away!
Volunteering with the BTCV is a great way to spend a weekend, and generally meet fellow deviants it also provides a great opportunity to get pissed and mess about with sharp tools. (Bit like a B3ta Bash?)

I was participating some years ago in such a BTCV task, the work was the pulling up and removal of Ragwort, a nasty thankless backbreaking task which can rapidly destroy a fellowís moral and sense of humour. The site on which we were working was split by a canal; as such one group was working on one side and vica versa. Soon the monotony of the work too its toll and a brisk game of 'fling the cowpat' was initiated. Simply slide your shovel under the cowpat, pick your target and let fly.

I should point out that this is a highly skilled game requiring the knowledge of which cowpats are crusty enough to hold their shape during flight but soft enough in the middle to provide a suitably comical splat upon impact.

It wasnít long before cowpats were being hastily flung back and forth over the canal which provided the natural split between the two 'teams.' The comedy from the misfortune of others came when one volunteers flung cowpat went a little astray and collided which a middle aged gentleman standing atop a narrow boat which happened to be chugging down the canal at that moment, perhaps inevitably the force of this shitty missile was also enough to dump him off the boat and into the canal.

I couldnít stop laughing for days.

Length? About 12ft from launch to collision
(Thu 17th Dec 2009, 17:08, More)

» Expensive Weekends

Don't play with drugs!
This is a pretty long story so bear with me!

Do any of you remember back a few years there was a major fucking weed drought? Like seriously nobody had anything. It was as dry as your grandma's cunt out there. Anyway one Friday I get a call from this girl I know, sheís got a tonne of the stuff only she's shit scared of offloading it herself so she's asking me to sell it. Well I wasnít going to go through all that hassle for no reward so I told her I wasn't going to be the silent partner, I would take a little bit and sell it to my close friends. She was cool with that. We did a deal 10%, free weed for me, as long as I was selling her shit. Anyway next thing I know she's got a buyer lined up for Saturday for the bulk of the weed, she had a whole brick of the stuff wrapped up in black plastic and she didn't want to go alone so muggins her gets roped in. Some shit about her brother usually does it but he's in jail because like a cunt he hasnít paid his parking fines.

Anyway next thing I know there I am sitting at the train station waiting for this bloke who I donít even know to come along and take this weed off my hands and he's late. And I need a piss. Do I go for a slash and risk missing this guy? I wait it out a bit longer but eventually I canít wait any more so I grab the bag with the weed and head for the gents.

Now we all know that train station pissers are fucking disgusting and that you're liable to give yourself some fucking disease just by breathing the air, I was expecting it to be covered in filth, and it was four fucking boys in blue and a massive great big dog. OH FUCK. My brain is going a mile a minute, are they there for me? Do they know what is in the bag? Should I just fucking leg it? This is the worst weekend ever Iím going be in jail for the rest of my fucking life!

Anyway nobody says anything, though the dog is barking like a lunatic, so using every once of self restraint I manage to stroll over to the urinal, have a wazz, wash my hands and get the fuck out of there without shitting myself, but that it the true definition of a brown trousers moment and how I narrowly escaped the most expensive weekend of my life.

Strangely a few weeks later I did actually have the most expensive weekend of my life when I was shot dead following a bungled burglery.

Length? I donít know what is the maximum term for possession with intent to supply?

Mr Orange.
(Thu 13th May 2010, 16:39, More)

» Redundant technology

Sharp enough to shave with.
I know that this story is stretching the definition of redundant technology somewhat but as the vast majority of answers here seem to be more along the theme of 'they don't make them like they used too' Iím slotting my two cents in here.

Tools.

Yeah Seriously.

What the fuck is up with modern day tools? They're all a huge pile of wank. I've got a modest collection of edged tools which I use for my conservation work and occasional woodworking project and nothing produced these days can even hold a candle to the stuff which was produced 'back in the day.' These tools by manufacturers such as Brades, Nash or Gelpin can hold an edge; they were made by skilled craftsmen from properly tempered metal. Tools that you could use all day doing manly stuff such as chopping down trees and then go straight home and shag the wife and drink beer from a tankard not waste time sharpening ones tools.

Okay so I know itís an unsual bugbear but at least its different to all the stories about mega drives and ZX spectrums!

I'm putting the even more off topic story about how I once prepared a cheese sandwich using an axe in the replies.
(Fri 5th Nov 2010, 9:26, More)

» Complaining

The Life and Times of a Sainsbury's Customer Service Assistant
I used to work on the customer information desk at Sainsburyís, as such it has been my pleasure to listen to and deal with a lot of customer complaints. Mostly they can be divided into a few simple categories, those than have genuinely been wrong and require a replacement product/refund etc, those than are just looking for an excuse to rant and complain with little or no real reason and those that are looking for something from nothing. Needless to say I have plenty of stories; the following three are my favourites:

The Miscarriage Lady

There was a lady who used to come in with a load of baby related products, they used to vary, maybe formula milk, sometimes a breast pump often it was simply a few baby dummies. She would dump them on the customer information desk and promptly burst into tears about how she'd bought all these products and had had a miscarriage and as such needed a refund. This would have been all the more effective if she a) ever had a receipt for any of the items b) occasionally got mixed up which supermarket she was in (some of the equipment would be Tesco branded) or indeed c) she didnít try this trick every few months over the course of a year. She occasionally would catch a newbie unaware and get most of it refunded but more often than not she would be thrown out by security. Overall Verdict 6/10, probably wanted the money for drugs.

The TV Man

He strolled up to the customer information desk and plonked down a TV, insisted on a refund as he had bought the TV only last week and was now moving to Australia and wasn't about to take it with him. Fair enough, but he didnít have a receipt and he just looked suspicious (you develop an idea of this sort of thing.) The store manager however was new and keen to make a good impression on the locals and gave the man a full refund (a few hundred quid) he walked, nay sprinted out of the store. Examination of the stores CCTV footage later showed he had simply walked into the store, picked up the TV and walked straight over to the customer information desk. Verdict 9/10, excellent scamming skills.

The Crisps Man

I think he must have snuck up on me but I remember turning around after attending to something else and he simply thrust an empty crisps packet in my face and demanded that I 'LOOK AT THIS!' this as it turned out was an empty packet of crisps, Iím sure you've all seen it occasionally a crisps packet which has been inflated with air at the factory but has no actual crisps in it. I apologised and offered him a refund for the entire multi packet of crisps. He seemed insulted and demanded to see the manager. The manager arrived and was told how every evening himself and his wife enjoy a brandy and a packet of crisps by the fire but last night when (as customary) he threw her the packet of crisps the lack of crisps seriously affected the aerodynaminicity of the packet resulting in the crisps falling short of the intended target, reaching for the crisps his wife dropped and smashed her brandy goblet, and so Mr Manager of Sainsburyís you will now please provide me by way of compensation the money for six new cut crystal brandy goblets. He was told in no uncertain terms that we would not be indulging his fantasies. Verdict 3/10, too ambitious with demands.
(Fri 3rd Sep 2010, 14:14, More)
[read all their answers]