» Stupid Tourists

A friend of mine has the best story for this (but as he's not a b3tan, I'll share it on his behalf).
He was meeting up with American family friends and they introduced their daughter "Lan-e-lye" to them. Apparently she had been named after this quaint little town they had visited last time they had been to Britain some years before.
Yup, they had named their daughter Llanelli.
He didn't have the heart to tell them how it was really pronounced.
(Fri 8th Jul 2005, 13:05, More)

» My Worst Vomit

At the Easter Ball in my first year at Uni ...
I had been eating and drinking most of the day (mostly cider, to my shame) and had then gone out to the Students Union. I carried on 'til kicking out time but had just enough time for a night cap. Now, I like Drambuie so I asked for a shot. The barman says they're out of Drambuie, but would I like some Southern Comfort instead. I *hate* Southern Comfort, but was so drunk that I accepted anyway. From that point on things got hazy.

I remember dropping the glass (half empty) on the floor and beginning to realise how bad an idea Southern Comfort had been.

I remember being dragged home (I only lived about a minute from the Union).

Then I remember throwing up in my sink ... a sink full of my washing up. I also had long hair which was getting dragged around in the vomit in the sink.

I also remember throwing up in a bucket (which I half filled) and in the toilet (which I managed to block).
In the night I woke up and feeling some sense of responsibility, managed to open the loo door (it had been locked to stop people trying to use it) and clean it all out.

I then went back to bed.

In the morning however (I must have still been drunk) I actually went to my 9:00am lecture (maths). I don't remember much about it, but apparently I sat there smelling of vomit for an hour. Then I went home to find that my entire corridor had been forced to leave their rooms and the cleaner had refused to open my door.

You see the bucket I had half filled with sick had been sat in the bright morning sun for all the time I was in my lecture and had (for want of a better word) cooked.

Needless to say I was the one who had to venture in to get it and tip it down the loo (the one I'd cleaned so well) which I promptly blocked.
(Thu 19th Aug 2004, 21:25, More)

» Stupid Tourists

Stupid Americans ... surely not.
In Canada on a Skiing holiday we were asked by some American skiiers where we had come from.
"Near London, England" we said.
"Oh" they say "and how did you get here? Did you fly or drive?"
We just looked at each other and left before we offended them by laughing in their faces.
(Thu 7th Jul 2005, 17:13, More)

» Pure Ignorance

Whilst in Canada on a snowboarding holiday
we bumped into some Americans and got chatting. They asked where we were from and I replied "England", to which they responded:
"So how did you get here, did you fly or drive?"
I really really had to stop myself just laughing in their faces.

Oh, and the other classic was the girlfriend of my exlandlord who really was thick as mince. She would sit in front of films like Goldfinger for half an hour before pointing at one of the henchmen and asking "Is he a goody or a baddy".
Her best moment though was when I informed her that I was a vegetarian. She responded, in all seriousness, with:
"So, do you eat potatoes then?"
(Fri 7th Jan 2005, 20:39, More)

» Fire!

Frying chips at a friend's (a long time ago)
We were using a deep frying pan and we had got near the end of the bag of frozen chips. So, as we dumped the last few chips on the pan, in went all the ice that was lurking at the bottom of the bag.

Up went a fireball (I had managed to jump out the way at this time) but I noticed that the ceiling was polystyrene and the fireball was looking like it might set it off.

Of course I knew about the whole wet tea-towel thing. I knew how to deal with it. But seeing the fire going up towards the ceiling made me panic a little.

I threw open the door, grabbed the burning pan and tried to take it across the kitchen and out into the yard. It was only a few feet really, so it should have been easy.

It was easy ... up until I looked down to see that as I had sloshed the fat about a bit, the fire was now merrily climbing up my arm as bits of burning fat spat out (the pan was in front of me so the flame was pushing back as I moved).

At this point, I just threw the pan out the door with a bit of a yelp. In fact the fire was out before the pan hit the ground due to the dispersal of the fat as it flew through the air.

The ceiling was saved and apart from a few minor burns, I was fine. All we had to do now was explain the very battered frying pan to my friend's parents.
(Fri 4th Nov 2005, 23:14, More)