b3ta.com user tittybumwhizz
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» "You're doing it wrong"

I was about to send in the entire rebel alliance
to destroy the new Death Star (just near Endore if you know the area) but then on seeing that the deflector shield was still operational, realised it was a trap.

A. Akbar.
(Mon 19th Jul 2010, 23:19, More)

» Teenage Crushes - Part Two

Karen Allen
Its all the fault of Indiana Jones...or that sod Speilberg...

(Thu 5th Nov 2009, 20:53, More)

» Crappy relationships

It wasn't a crappy relationship...
...until the night she told me that she had feelings for one of my best mates and that she lost the passion for me. Thereafter, it was decidedly crappy.

If I ever see him again, I'll break his face.

I miss her every single day.

bollocks.
(Fri 22nd Oct 2010, 6:54, More)

» Letters they'll never read

Dear Cleaners
By virtue of the fact that it smells of stale piss in here, I suspect you may not be doing your job to the fullest of your abilities.

Kindest, etc etc

TBw
(Mon 8th Mar 2010, 23:23, More)

» Celebrities part II

Before Top Gear was good...
I used to work for a large IT company, or subcontract out to it at least, and after a year of spreadsheet toiling gash, the prime contractor threw a big old party for all of us lucky employees (these were the heady days of IT, when people had budgets!)

It was a whole day of corporate-entertainment shenanigans, culminating in a fancy dinner with champagne reception at Madam Tussauds. It was debauched. A whole raft of engineers, sick of being over worked and grossly underpaid took it upon themselves to drink as much as humanly possible. These guys lugged servers and the likes around in their transits, and were very savvy people. Which made the job of the after dinner speaker that very much more interesting.

Enter Quentin Wilson, of Top Gear, now Fifth Gear fame. Full slick hair and smarm at the ready, his anecdotes about why a Jag E-Type has nothing on a...something or other, fell on deaf ears and shouts of "Yeah, but my transits better you wanker!" followed by much laughter.

As the dinner ended, Benjamin Franklin may have been defiled, a then current world leader may have been decapitated. As I stood out on the front carpet with my engineer colleagues awaiting our taxi, Wilson emerged, looking distinctly hurried, focused on his cigarette and getting out of there.

Full of a heady mix of champagne, red wine, over-priced Park Lane hotel beer, I summoned up the most awesome cutting remark I could make against this man, to slay my colleagues and to leave the smarm-master on his way:

"Oi, Quint.......TWAT!!!!"

Best I could do. An engineer licked my face as a gesture of appreciation for my efforts, badly executed as they were. I had alcohol poisoning the next day.

(pop)
(Thu 8th Oct 2009, 15:08, More)
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