b3ta.com user J H Christ
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» Made me laugh

Not the answer I was expecting
A couple of years ago I took a girlfriend to Hanmer Springs (here in NZ) for a weekend. I wasn't sure if the relationship was going anywhere, so I took a speculative punt and asked; "If we get a room with a jacuzzi, will you let me do you up the arse?"

All rather uncharacteristic of me - that approach is really not my style, but I reasoned she might be more likely to indulge me the mucky pleasures in a jacuzzi than all over her Eqyptian cotton sheets

Her reply?

"Yeah OK. (Pause) What's a jacuzzi?"
(Thu 6th Dec 2012, 22:05, More)

» Attention whore

Boss Level Alpha Maling
What would you do if you found out your (only) two brothers had gone on holiday to Samoa with their wives to celebrate the younger one’s milestone birthday, but they kept it secret because you’re a chronic narcissist and hijacked every party and social gathering you've ever been to, turning it into an attention fest about you.

Would you take a hint and amend your ways?
Would you secede from them?
Would you phone them up and have a yell?

Or would you, like my wife’s ex, get the next flight available out there to “give them a nice surprise”?
(Sun 17th Nov 2013, 20:31, More)

» Biggest opportunity I've blown

Tch! Typical!!
I missed the opportunity to be the retired owner of an extraordinarily successful bricklaying empire, when one fateful day near the end of term I was asked by the school career advisor what I was going to do when I leave school.

“I’m going to be a bricklayer” I said. “Oh no you’re not, not with six ‘o’ levels” she said. Within half an hour I was enrolled on a local tech course feeding into the Quantity Surveying racket.

So here we are n years later, I’m a very averagely paid and overworked wage slave whilst all the bricklayers who had even the slightest bit of financial nous about them (admittedly there weren’t that many) formed a company, cleaned up in the housing booms of the 80’s and had retired to the South of France before the 90’s were done.

Meanwhile, I still have to argue over how to calculate the area of a fucking triangle to subcontractors who rock up to the office in Humvees or Bentleys and park next to my Focus.
(Fri 4th Apr 2014, 3:18, More)

» Twat Friends

Not all cunts are cunts
I used to hang out with a friend who lacked social skills,a bellend by most standards. He was just one of those of people who couldn't gauge anybody else's emotional state, entirely insensitive to moods, his Alan Partridge knob was constantly on 10. I saw him guffaw at car crash scenes, put his arm around the shoulders of a surly Glaswegian bouncer to cheer him up, and tell a mourner to look on the bright side - he was lucky it wasn't both his kids. Most of my other friends hated him, but I persevered because I could see he genuinely had no malicious intent, in fact all that aside he was a pretty generous soul. I lost interest and 'chucked' him when he became a fanny rat and would pursue girls way out of his league long beyond you and I would have got the message. From their boyfriend.

Seriously, he was a fucking liability, a dangerous bloke to have in tow.

20 years later and I'm married to a woman who's son has Asperger's, and another of life's little mysteries is resolved. Kind of like when I found out Babapapa is Spanish for candy floss.
(Tue 24th Sep 2013, 5:49, More)

» Getting Old

Hobbling With The Wolves
I went to see The Prodge a couple of years ago when they played Auckland NZ. What an excellent gig, almost as good as the last time I saw them at Brixton, my last gig before leaving for NZ.

The ticket actually cost more than the flight from my home in Christchurch, but rocketing ticket prices is not my old-man complaint today.

Not wanting to be one of the lonely looking oldies at the back of the hall I used to mock in my youth, I found a seat up in the gods, away from the dance floor and donned my glasses to watch the spectacle unfold in comfort. Looking around I was relieved to see quite a number of 'fans' my own age, and felt rather bouyed to not be the odd one out. As the lights went up, I realised I was all alone. I assumed they knew where the local pubs were and had headed off to get to the bar before the spotty rabble showed up. So off I went, merrily reflecting that 47 means nothing these days. That's when I saw my peer group, miserably shepherding their sweating and ear-ringing kids to the car park with for-Christ's-sake-I-should-be-in-bed looks on their faces.
(Tue 12th Jun 2012, 9:17, More)
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