Was in a club
in China. Shanghai.

I had met this girl – a really pretty Mexican student (I kid you not, her name was Linda, and looked like Eva Mendez), and as she was leaving, she gave me her number and asked if we could meet back at the same venue - just me and her the next night.

I was stunned. Not only had i bagged a fit girl, she had asked ME for my number, not something I was experience in.

The next day in work she was on my mind, I couldn’t stop thinking about her, all my friends asking me what she looked like, the image in my head began to blur, and i couldn’t quite remember what she looked like.

I was sitting in the bar when she walked up to me and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

What i said next was meant to be something like "Ive had you running through my mind all day so much that it made me forget how beautiful you were"

instead I drunkardly shouted out, "oh, i forgotten what you looked like" She span round and walked straight out and to her friends...

It was only when i consulted my friends I had figured what i did wrong.
(Dan dan dan They tik urh jerbs!!!, Thu 23 Aug 2012, 12:05, 5 replies)

Makes me cringe to even remember this.
A few years back, I went on holiday with my ex Katie and her family (the holiday was booked before we split, it was a friendly split, all was fine). As much of the holiday was going to involve driving, all four of us brought our own music to have on in the car. I went with sensible options, her parents did the same, Katie herself did not. Gwen Stefani and other such musical crimes were the order of her CDs, it was torture. (So was her version of Fever, but that was something else entirely)

Anyone remember that song 'I Hope You Dance', by that Irish warbling cunt, Ronan Keating? (turns out it's a cover, ah well) That was on one of the CDs her Dad had taken along, and it popped up a few days into the holiday. At the time, my friends and I thought it fun to replace the word 'dance' with 'die' in songs, because we're hilarious like that (read: immature bellends). As a result, when the song reaches the chorus, I belt out 'I hope you diiiiiieeeee.'

The song is quickly turned off, and we travel for the next few minutes in utter silence. I'm a little confused, as whilst I know it was a shit 'joke', it can't have been THAT offensive, surely?

Katie leans across and whispers "You do know that's my Dad's favourite song, right?" to which I shake my head. She then follows it up with a line that made me feel like the world's biggest twat - "You do remember it was played at my Grandad's funeral, don't you?"

Ooh, fuck, I'd forgotten about that.

The worst bit? He'd only died about 3 weeks before.
( Agnostic Antichrist Baltimora, Thu 23 Aug 2012, 11:47, 2 replies)

oversensitive
I got hauled up in front of a disciplinary panel because an Asian girl complained about me using the phrase "Indian giver" in the office. Despite it being impossible to uphold as a complaint once I had forced them to look it up as a phrase, it got raised every appraisal as an example of poor conduct.
Twats
(kaptinkurtz, Thu 23 Aug 2012, 11:43, 11 replies)

oh balls.....
I once asked a work colleage whether he'd rather have facial hair for life or lose a testical. He told me he had just recovered from cancer after having a ball removed about a year before i started working there...and used to have a tash. Arkward...
(pony182, Thu 23 Aug 2012, 11:08, 7 replies)

Cats.....
During training to be a bus driver,we used to have about 5 or 6 of us taking it in turns to drive.Over the course of 2 days one of the female drivers was banging on about her cats and it was obvious that she treated them like children.
After a particularly lengthy talk about her cats ,I (bored not thinking) chipped and said why do some people bang on about their pets like they are they are their babies and such,to which everyone went quiet only to told painfully by her that her cats were her children so to speak because she could not have children.
I looked out the window wishing I was somewhere else,wishing my tact switch was on.
Feel free to criticize my grammar,if it cares that much.
(andycrass loves two hats on, Thu 23 Aug 2012, 6:44, 6 replies)

URGENT: I've just been on YouTube.
They're having a bit of a crisis. Some of their most angry and retarded commenters have disappeared. Does anyone have an idea where they might have gone?
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Thu 23 Aug 2012, 3:57, 16 replies)

The Bint & the Band
There was this Bint who lived below us in our flat in Harrow.

The flat was the top floor of a two-storey house that had been converted into flats, as had many in the street. Road, Street? It was called Southfield Park, which sounds very grand. So, the flat was the top floor of a two-storey house that had been converted into flats, as had many in the Park.

Anyway, these conversions all share considerable issues regarding sound insulation. In a two-storey Edwardian house, if you're on the ground floor, you can hear stuff going on on the first floor, and vice versa.

Putting a partition wall up on the stairs to the first floor & making two front doors does not address this issue.

Nevertheless, such arrangements are frequently made, creating two flats from one house.

We moved in when there was a very pleasant, and virtually silent, old lady occupying the ground floor. We never heard a peep out of her, and I'm willing to bet she didn't hear any peeps out of us, as we are considerate people & respect neighbours.

Unlike The Bint.

Sadly & inevitably, the virtually silent old lady on the ground floor became a deceased old lady, and the flat was sold to new owners. One of them was the person we came to refer to as The Bint.

Over the years, and there were two of them, we had a fair few run-ins with The Bint over noise issues. Ultimately it all came down to her (The Bint) playing music loudly at night. Actually, it wasn’t music in general. She had a propensity for a, I believe, Jimi Hendrix track. It’s called “Hey, Joe, what are you doing with that gun in your hand”, and she (The Bint) played it loud. Frequently.

That particular rendition of that song, by that artist has a strong, ascending, bass line. It reverberated throughout our flat, and vibrated my breastbone in a most disconcerting manner.

This would cause me to dwell excessively on the possible solutions to The Bint. These possible solutions largely consisted of Bint death.

I later recognised this as stress. Much later.

This went on for a while. There were many situations in which Jimi, & his bass line, fucked me off, big time.

Then there was this one day………

Mrs richardinsydney & I were both home. Weekend. Mrs R was occupied in the living room watching TV. I was in the study doing some study stuff. Thudding base music of the Jimi kind rose up and vibrated my breastbone, of a sudden.

I was distressed by this, but carried on.

After a while, the vibration of my breast bone pushed me over the edge & a red mist came down. The Bint was in the garden at the back of the property with some no-doubt bint-worthy buddy slurping Chardonnay & tonic, listening to this stress-inducing shite.

I curtailed my studying activities & sallied forth to the bedroom at the rear of the property in order to observe The Bint & her compatriot.

I hurled open the window. (Don’t forget, the Red Mist has come down a little earlier, & I am therefore absolved etc…)

Sash window.

Window goes up.

I lean out of the window and SCREAM, yes totally screaming: “Turn it off, Fucking turn it off. FUCKING TURN IT OFF”

I am at the end of my tether. The very end.

I slam the window down: SLAM!!!!

The window shatters: It rains glass fragments down on The Bint & her suitable buddy.

I didn’t expect this outcome, but I’m happy with it: glass on The Bint. Muwahahahaha.

I turn around, and Mrs R is standing in the doorway of the bedroom. She is absolutely horror-stricken.

Three words: “It’s not her”

Turns out next property over they had a live band for a birthday party.

Fuck. Sort that one out.
(RichardInSydney would like to know why teh date & time is, Wed 22 Aug 2012, 23:30, 24 replies)

On the way back from seeing my girlfriend's dad in the coronary care unit
trying to lighten the situation in the car, I suggested, "Shall we pop into McDonalds?"

Well they do salads...
(pygmy giraffe, Wed 22 Aug 2012, 20:34, 1 reply)

Meeting new neighbours
Whilst gainfully employed at our local council many moons ago, I was issuing a receipt for a customer who lived on the same road, just a few doors down. I commented on our proximity and having recently moved in there was some decorating going on and not a lot of curtains. I joyfully informed him that I "quite like it looking unlived in - at least we are not plagued by Jehovah's Witnesses"
I think you can guess........
(Purpledoris I've got afeckin' job, Wed 22 Aug 2012, 16:53, 16 replies)

Chariots of Fire/ Crashing and Burning
I work back stage in theatre, doing carpentry, lighting, props, etc. For one show we needed a motorized wheelchair. The props master who ordered the chair, for the show was a stunning, blonde bombshell, my attempts at wooing said vixen were actually, for once, going well. Until of course she offered me a spin in the chair. Giddy with child like excitement I said "Really? Awesome! I've always been tempted to push some disabled person out of one of these and take it for a joy ride!" her face settled into a stony glare as she tightly responded "My mother is in one of these things." Dumbfounded my mind raced for a way out, warning lights flashing up like a helicopter hit by an RPG, sweat beaded on my forehead. After what seemed like an age I asked meekly "Were you ever tempted to push her out of it?". I took by her silence the answer was no...
(ShizerKaiser, Wed 22 Aug 2012, 16:27, 1 reply)

Be careful how you describe a fat lasses vagina
In my horny youth for reasons I can't recall I found myself in the back seat of a car with a rather fat lass. As it was dark I couldn't really see much of what was about to have a go on so I got out my trusty pen-sized maglight to have look-see. The batteries were going flat and didn't really have much of a powerful beam at the best of times so it didn't reveal much of the prize. Waving it over her vag area I was overcome with the similarities to a scene in one of my favourite films.

"Fuck me. It looks like a scary alien coming out of the dark!" I inexplicably announced to the lass. "Err, I didn't mean it like that, I um..."

She still let me fuck her though and my dick didn't get burned off by acid or owt so it worked out ok in the end.
( Airman Gabber Living life like a 70's BBC presenter, Wed 22 Aug 2012, 16:21, 20 replies)

Stoke Bruerne Waterways Museum
When I was a young teacher we often took our classes to museums, in the early eighties, before the National Curriculum. We embarked upon a journey to the above mentioned waterways museum with 40 odd children, including our hearing impaired unit, which included our profoundly deaf children, all of whom wore bulky crystal radio aids which hung round the neck, and earpieces. Being one of the first schools in the country to use Total Communication methods, we also had a bit of funding to buy brightly coloured earpieces as well.(Nowadays, I shudder to think of the reaction, but they were the latest thing!!)

The plummy voiced lady giving the talk was given the neck mike to address the assembled children and staff, and asked us all to move back from the edge of the canal. All obliged bar Jake, who stood staring at a mallard.

(Cue haughty voice) " I arsked yew to move awei frorm the edge. Are yew DEAF (shouted) or something???"

To which my colleague, a petite blonde young lady whom butter wouldn't melt etc, walked up to her and said, sternly but quietly, an inch from her face, so that the children might not hear.

"Of course he is you stupid woman. What do you think that is in his ears? Fucking plasticine?"

The Boss nearly choked!

We never went back.
( The Lone Groover has mal des nuts., Wed 22 Aug 2012, 16:03, Reply)

Bill Nighy's incurable fingers
He suffers from a condition called Dupuytren's Contracture, which means his ring finger and little finger are permanently bent inwards towards the palm. Watch out for it next time you see him in a movie.

Anyway, a couple of months back we did this voiceover with him. He's quite open about his condition and mentioned it mostly because he didn't want us to think he was weird. The recording itself was quite painful as we had an idiot in the room with us trying to change the already-pitiful script while Bill was recording it. It went on too long. But Bill was amazing.

We finished and as he popped his head round the door to say goodbye, I wanted to apologise for the script and the stupid changes and tell him how great he was and gush at his feet. But unfortunately, I get quite flustered around proper famous types and all I could muster was, "h-h-hope the h-h-hand gets b-better s-soon".

He looked at me with disbelief and closed the door.
( mrlogic is copying your beard, Wed 22 Aug 2012, 14:27, 10 replies)

Upsetting the boss.
It was one of those special moments where my mouth engaged itself before my brain could send the appropriate signal to point out that I really should just shut the fuck up, accept a little well light mockery, laugh it off and go to the pub. Unfortunately I have a built in reflex action that prevents me from letting people make me the butt of their jokes and this usually results in disciplinary action whenever an employer is concerned.

I've never been one for getting into games that are designed to raise morale or money for charaity, especially when they're poorly conceived and a bit dull. One children in need day, they decided to raise a little money by forcing us all to donate a pound to play a game, the idea being that the winner would get a prize that was most likely purchased from the 99p store and the children of the world would be onto a winner. We were presented with six pictures of children of around three years of age, three female, three male and told to try and guess which of the directors, head of accounts and head of I.T. they were.

I was given the sheet to complete and didn't even bother to look at the pictures, I just wrote in random names next to random numbers.

Come the end of the day, we were held back for fifteen minutes to endure him announcing the winner, which was dragged out with annoying and pointless banter. Now, so the remainder of the story makes any sense at all, I need to point out that our managing director had a similar build to Cyril Smith.

Just before we finished, he decided to make light of a few of the entries, people who scored nothing etc. He decided to name me and shame my entry last of all. "I would like to give a special mention to Munsta, who thought that when I was a child, I would be on the beach wearing a bikini!"

My reply was "To be fair, you do have tits."



Yes, I do feel like a cunt about this.
( Muns, Wed 22 Aug 2012, 14:02, Reply)

I put my foot in my mouth the other day
Because I'm a contortionist! LOL!
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Wed 22 Aug 2012, 13:56, Reply)

My wife was annoying me one day...
...so whilst we were watching telly, sat on different sofas and not having sex again for the 1000th time, I said matter-of-factly:

"You know, I don't really think of you as a woman anymore."

She is now my ex-wife. Fortunately, she was a miserable bitch, so it all worked out alright in the end.
(CharminglyShallow incarcerated for a crime he probably did commit., Wed 22 Aug 2012, 11:10, 12 replies)

I asked my girlfriend's dad "Do you mind if I use your loo?"
"Of course" he replied, so I took her in there and we had long, noisy sex.

SO embarrassed!
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Wed 22 Aug 2012, 9:56, 19 replies)

I accidentally used an old copy of the Geneva Convention.
The version I looked at didn't class writing a book as a war crime.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Wed 22 Aug 2012, 5:36, 19 replies)

When I went out with a girl fom Wisconsin
Her mother and brother came to visit us in Glasgow. One day was set aside for shopping so I found myself hungover to the back teeth in Mark's and Spencer, Sauchiehall Street, on a Saturday afternoon. My girlfriend's ma was in the changing room trying on a new pair of jeans. Seeing that I was clearly itching to get this shit over with and get to the pub to cure my hangover my bird tried to hurry her mum up asking her "how are the jeans mom?"

Piece of advice for Americans, don't shout "they're too small I can't fit them over my fanny" in Glasgow.
(Figmaus, Wed 22 Aug 2012, 1:21, 1 reply)

So I said to her 'I totally did you when you were sleeping'
That's backfired on me, BIGSTYLE.
(DefinitelyNOTAmorousBadgerOhNo, Wed 22 Aug 2012, 1:17, 1 reply)

Not the best choice of words...
A friend once introduced me to a friend of hers who had struggled with anorexia for a long time. She was however getting better and apparently looked a lot healthier.

My friend, wishing to complement her may have chosen her words poorly...

"You look too fat to be someone with anorexia!"
( B.T., Tue 21 Aug 2012, 22:32, Reply)

The last time we played Moles
in Bath, our socially-challenged singer decided to unexpectedly preface our last song by announcing
" this one's for all the bitches in the house."
Everyone, including the rest of the band took a step back, and we never played there again. Cheers Alan.
( uncle bastard is twanging a dan moi, Tue 21 Aug 2012, 20:50, 9 replies)

On the way back from the funeral of a relative who had died of cancer
"Can we stop for food? I'm wasting away here"
(Heavy Metal, Tue 21 Aug 2012, 17:35, 1 reply)

Are we all just a bunch of people that can make a bomb, and say stupid things at inappropriate times?
From the last QOTW to this weeks I've realised that the vast majority of us posting on this site are slightly insane.

Which immediately brings to mind another incident, many many many moons ago I was being dragged around the shops with the other half. It was boring. She wasn't very 'girly' but wanted a few bits and pieces, some bed sheets, and some girly gunk from boots.

We'd got the sheets, or towels, or whatever it was, we're perusing the aisles of boots, as many men know this is delightful, the most fabulous experience of a saturday morning so you try to cheer yourself up so that you can get into the pub.

My ex was of French origin, contrary to popular belief she was not hairy, so we were looking for those tiny bikini waxing strips, so in my mind, perusing the shelves, in a packed London boots, I decided to out loud start saying 'moustache moustache moustache - nope, can't see them love' 'oh here they are!'. Luckily she thought it slightly funny.

However, when she suffered from constipation, at the pharmacy with her speaking to the pharmacist telling the gentleman her symptoms to get the relevant medication, she did not find me bursting out laughing particularly funny. That was the start of the end of that relationship.
(feedingtimeatthezoo day 1 of his bikini diet started, Tue 21 Aug 2012, 16:40, 1 reply)

On the patio of a pub sat night
Bit stuck for seating as was quite packed, so started looking around for spares. I spied a chair next to a table full of fellow drinkers and asked one of them
"'scuse me mate, will you need to use this stool?"
"no mate, I brought my own" he replied.
I gave a quizzical look as was half cut and confused. It was then I noticed he was in a wheelchair. Cue me being embarrassed etc, and him taking the piss!
(sunray18, Tue 21 Aug 2012, 16:34, 2 replies)

I have literally just come out of a meeting
where we were discussing a certain companies magazines aimed at the under 7s. Or their 'Pre-school Magazines' as they were called. Or at least as they were called by everybody other than me who three times referred to them as 'your pre-teen magazines'. I'm sure the bloke now thinks I was either calling him a Gadd or that I am one.
( scarpe We Stole Bikes, Tue 21 Aug 2012, 15:22, 5 replies)

I founded a website that aims to hold governments and big business up to scrutiny to promote greater accountability for dubious actions.
Imagine my shame when I was all over the newspapers after hiding out from police questioning in an embassy in London.
(DefinitelyNOTAmorousBadgerOhNo, Tue 21 Aug 2012, 13:42, 185 replies)

Accidental racism from tonight's car trip.
My friend Liz, who I've just met recently, is absolutely lovely. Absolutely gorgeous to look at too, lovely creamy white skin, blue eyes, dark red brown hair.

We were talking about our travel plans and she was saying how she wants to go back to India.
"Oh," I said, "have you been before?"
"Yeah sure, my mum's Indian."
Somewhat confused I was asked if she was British Indian,
"Oh no no," said Liz, "She's Hindi."

And my brain just shut down as my mouth took over and blurted out,
"But you're just so WHITE!"


Luckily for me she saw the funny side.

Honestly though, I think she's adopted.
(Poppet some assembly required., Tue 21 Aug 2012, 13:33, 4 replies)

as a young australian, fresh off the boat and working in my first job in london
I came in on Monday and yelled out across the open-plan office to a South African mate: "Hey Andy, did you see us beat the pakis on the weekend".
I couldn't help but notice by the deathly hush and disciplinary panel that followed that my comment about the cricket might have been misconstrued
( cumquat may will not be commenting further on the allegations, Tue 21 Aug 2012, 13:11, 32 replies)

I thought this woman said "I don't love you"
So I punched her in the face and killed her children.

Turns out she'd said "Excuse me, do you know where I can find a shop that sells wool?"

SO embarrassed!
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Tue 21 Aug 2012, 13:10, Reply)