You're having a giraffe

'Twas a number of years ago now. Youth still held my siblings and me in its gentle grip and we bore our naivety with, well, naivety.

Sat around my Grandmother's living room; my younger brother is asked to close the door, for there was a draft coming in.

"A giraffe?" questions he.

"Yes" replies my Dad, "a giraffe is coming in."

It took a long time to convince him that we were safe to leave without fear of being attacked by the giraffe. I guess we shouldn't really have convinced him they were such fierce creatures.

Sometimes it's just too easy.
( Moey, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 13:48, Reply)

I believed him.
I believed him when he said he loved me.

I believed him when he said they were just friends.

I believed him when he said he'd never cheat on me.

I believed him when he said he was going to the pub with his friends when he was actually fucking his ex girlfriend in the back of his car.

I believed him when he said it was my fault.

I believed him when he said he was sorry and it wouldn't happen again.

I believed him when he cried.

He hit me and I never believed in him again.
( wanderlust, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 13:19, 20 replies)

The Tale of Kaol and the Supersonic Toast
A follow up to this story.

Ron was making toast one fine morning.
I wandered into the kitchen, just as it popped up, hot and golden brown.
Feeling a little mischievious, I casually said to Ron
"Do you know what that noise is?"

He thought about it for a moment, then replied:
"Of course I do, it's the spring in the toaster."

"A common mistake. It's actually the mechanism popping the toast up so quickly that it breaks the speed of sound. If it didn't do that, it'd be far too hot to touch."

He looked surprised, and went quiet for a moment, taking this information in.
He nodded, buttered his toast and said "Makes sense", as I walked away.

I'd forgotten all about it, until a mutual friend told me an amazing fact about toast in the pub one day...
( Cawl, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 12:32, 5 replies)

My girlfriend
is especially gullible and over time I've managed to convince her that

- Some pople get their pelvis's removed, entirely
- Testicles are named after a famous greek warrior called testikles who fought in the nude
- A wedding ring that features for 2seconds in hellboy 2 is actually Sauron's one ring (after a comic book tie in between the two)
- A self defence mechanism of beavers is to rip off their balls and throw them at their attackers
- Condoms are made by people sticking their willys in liquid latex and peeling it off when it cools

Sometimes I don't know why she's with me....

Length? long enough to make a condom fit anyone
(alpha doesn't have a witty phrase to write here, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 12:31, 5 replies)

I don’t believe it!
A while ago in a pub I managed to successfully convince some regulars of the following statement:

“When Unilever released ‘I Can’t believe It’s Not Butter’, they successfully defended a case against the butter industry because the word ‘Butter’ was not a registered trade mark.

They then also managed to successfully sue a smaller rival company for trying to sell a product called ‘I Can’t Believe It’s Not I Can’t believe It’s Not Butter”

My bullshittery was received with many ‘Oohs’, and ‘Corporate bastards eh? – You’ll never beat big business’

I wonder how many times that has done the rounds by now?
(Mr Twisty Cheeky The worst kept secret in B3ta..., Wed 27 Aug 2008, 12:15, 2 replies)

April fools...
Reading the post about the spaghetti harvest brought this one back to me...

I must have been 10 or 11, and the local paper reported how the US military had installed missiles in the local reservoir (Grafham Water).

I swallowed this hook, line and sinker - wasn't until maybe 3 years later I was at Grafham with some mates and casually mentioned it that one of them turned to me and said.

"That was an April fool you idiot!*"

There was nothing I could say...thankfully it's been forgotten about now.

Length? must have been 3 years...

*the actual words may have included the odd swear
( snee held his breath since, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 11:55, Reply)

The Tale of Kaol and the Rad-Proof Coat
In my first year at university I lived in a hall of residence, sharing a kitchen and bathroom with a variety of characters.

One of them was an English student called Ron*, who was a lovely chap, but was rather gullible.

He was fond of going out to the Union, geting drunk and having a laugh, as we all were, but as the year wore on and my work-load grew, his seemed to stay low.
This meant he'd be out on the piss, more or less every night.

One evening he knocked on my door, asking if he could borrow my lab coat.
I asked why.
The conversation went as follows:

"I'm going out tonight, it's Doctors and Nurses night."

"Oh... Sure, just don't get it wrecked or lose it, it's thirty quid for a new one."

"Thirty quid? Why so expensive?"

"Well... You know we do experiments in the lab... Some of those involve radiation, so these coats have threads of lead woven into them."

"Shit... Really?"

"Yeah, look, if I hold it to the light can you see it glisten slightly?"

"Oh yeah... Wow!"

"Anyway, look, hold it, see how it's heavier than you'd expect?"

"Yeah, it's a bit heavy... Thanks, I'll bring it back tomorrow!"

"No problem, have fun!"

And off he merrily went, telling everyone he met that night about the exciting rad-proof coat he was wearing.

*Not his name at all.
( Cawl, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 11:39, 1 reply)

I haven't been posting much,
I've been on stress leave from work (where my internet access is), after being a pallbearer at a woman's funeral.

It wasn't so much that I was close to her. It was actually the ceremony that was stressful.

It was a specially written ceremony designed as a celebration and acknowledgement of her life and acheivements.

Which would've been fine if she hadn't been the inventor of bukkake.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 11:16, 14 replies)

Haunted shoes
My missus and her mates were chatting about ghosts and stuff, while I was trying to watch the footie. So I told them about my cousin being haunted by a pair of shoes that she threw out before their time. I spun a great yarn about how she could hear them walking up the stairs in her house, but when she went out to look, there would be nothing there. The tall tale culminated in my cousin getting a priest to perform an exorcism and the priest telling her that these kinds of hauntings were quite common, since "shoes have souls".

I expoected to be rumbled at this point, but my missus just said "I may never throw out a pair of shoes again". Which could explain why we now have three cupboards dedicated to her collection.

Thanks to Grant and Naylor for the inspiration.
(ScousersPet, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 11:13, 4 replies)

Drugs and Alcohol
In the 5th year at secondary school the time came to have lesson on drugs, alcohol and sex.
Now given that they had left this until we were 15 we figured that we could tell them more about all those subjects than they tell us. We'd been getting pissed and rutting like rabbits for years.

So we were all sat in the class room waiting for the drugs and alcohol lesson to start when the teacher came to the front of the class.
He stood their in silence for a bit then looked up and said to us. 'My first wife died because of alcohol.'
We all just looked at him as he stood their in silence for a moment looking on the verge of tears.
The class looked at each other not knowing what to say. The silence only broken by one of the girls saying 'are you OK sir?'

He looked up again and said "yes, I got pissed and shot the bitch'.
'Right kids, let talk drugs'. And he went on to tell us then that the most harm hash could do you was if a 5 kilo lump fell on you head!
( Mrs Entity is in hiding., Wed 27 Aug 2008, 11:08, 1 reply)

My girlfriend is somewhat mental.
One day, when I was wasting time at home, I got a text message. It said "I just took a pregnancy test..." - yes, that was it. She'd been late so she bought one to check. Of course I sent one saying "and..." with sweat forming on my brow.

Nothing. So I tried to call her - she doesn't pick up. This goes on for about 15 minutes until she says: "oh don't worry, it was negative". Pfff, had me going there. The feeling of relief was amazing - never felt anything quite like it.

What I never thought that anyone would joke about such a thing, and she got me. Had me chuckling to myself as well as just open-mouthed. How could I possibly be angry at her for very long?

Funny thing is, that was 9 months ago now, and we're still together and there definitely is no baby.

length? she loves it
( morrybyte made a subtle namechange at, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 11:02, 1 reply)

pasta growing on trees
still one of the best ever april fools jokes.

It was on BBC in the 60's. BBC news did a segment on how good the spaghetti harvest would be that year. followed by clips of Italians picking spaghetti off tree branches.
(Dan dan dan They tik urh jerbs!!!, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 10:44, 4 replies)

I once managed to convince a colleague that lions, tigers, leopards etc were in fact about the same size as ordinary domestic house cats...
He wasn't going to fall for it but I convinced him with the masterstroke of telling him that my cat (which he'd seen photos of) was particularly small and that most domestic cats were much stockier, and that "big cats" weren't in fact bigger, just stockier still.

As far as I know, he still believes that. I've never put him right, and I don't work there any more =)
(Professor Kenny Martin Hmm? What?, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 10:32, 1 reply)

Just One of Nature's... Foibles!
Ah, Greenwich. The home of the Cutty Sark. The home of the National Maritime Museum. Perhaps, most importantly, the home of Time.

And time itself, in a roundabout kind of way, was mu unwitting accomplice a few of years ago.

At the time I was still in a self-destructive spiral with the Mad Saffa. She was living with me in my house share for a couple of weeks, and one night we were doing that most exciting of activities, the washing.

Standing in the back garden, hanging clothes out to dry, she looked up in to the darkness of the Autumn sky.

“What’s that?” She said, her Durban lilt floating in the air. I followed her pointing finger, and saw a long, green light piercing through the sky.

Now, both you and I know that at the Greenwich observatory they fire a green coloured laser beam out at night time that follows the line of the Greenwich Meridian. It just so happened that the street I lived on had that selfsame Meridian running through it. So the laser went right over my house.

“Oh, that,” I said “well, you’ve heard of Aurora Borealis?”

“Yes...” She said, mouth agape.

“Well, that’s the little known London Version. Strangely, it follows the Greenwich Meridian, and you can only see it when the conditions are absolutely perfect. You’re very lucky, this is only the second time I’ve seen it myself.”

“But how does it happen?” She said, transfixed by this green line shooting through the sky.

“Oh, I dunno,” I said “just one of nature’s... little... er... foibles?”

It was here, as my dishonesty came crashing about my ears, that I was certain the game was up. I mean, foibles? Dear Lord, DiT! But no, she ran inside, grabbed the ‘phone, and dialled her mother in South Africa. Before I could stop her, she was excitedly babbling about how she’d seen the most wonderful natural phenomena.

Minutes later, she put the ‘phone down.

“Er...” I said, my eyes fixed on the floor “You know... It’s... Er... What you saw was a laser. If you look tomorrow it’ll be there. And the day after. It’s been there for the last five years. Er.”

I earned myself a kick in the balls for that one.
( Devil_In_Tights the *real* DiT!, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 10:10, Reply)

Am I being gullible? Time will tell…

I am currently in the middle of a highly detailed, dull-as-cockroach-shit, supposedly dead important, legally binding mission statement of process definitions blah blah blah.

I am quite phenomenally certain, that despite the fact that they will each sign it off as a veritable work of wonderment, not one of my managers, Directors or even the rutting German bloke who runs the corporation will be arsed to read one word of it. For them it is a pointless box-ticking exercise which will be filed away forever. They just don’t care

So sure am I in fact…that I have tested my theory by inserting the following line deep in the heart of the (so far) 35 page solid-block-of-text document:


“The Scalability Servers are scheduled to report back wibbly cunt splunge information to the DSM repository out of impact times”


I reckon they’re lucky to have me.
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Wed 27 Aug 2008, 10:08, 6 replies)

"How do you spell...
etcetera?" an 18 year old me was asked. My brian, switching to autopilot,as it often does when asked stupidly simple questions......"etc" came my reply.

EDIT: for the silly spelling mistake caused by my cackhanded, fat fingered typing!!
(drain_bamaged, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 9:53, 7 replies)

Deadpan
My girlfriend isn't gullible, but I have learnt that when she asks me a question, if i don't know the answer, I simply answer it in a deapan manner.

For example - we were up at Normanby Park a while back and we saw a Pheasant on a branch:

GF: "Oh look, a pheasant on a branch - I wonder what it's doing up there"
Me: "Oh, well, that's where they nest - they find a branch that's about 2 foot off the ground and that's where they make their nest"
GF: "Bollocks"
Me: "No, no, it's true - I mean, think about it - it's safe and foxes can't get them and all that. It's logical, think about it"
GF: "Uhhh, yeh, I can see what you mean"
Me: "I mean, foxes can't jump that high can they? And cats certainly wouldn't bother either would they?"
GF: "Um, yeh, I suppose"

This went on a while and I, maintained my composure.

A couple of weeks later, we're talking about Pheasants again when I tried to convince her of something else - it was at this that she twigged that I was, in fact, a bullshitter :)

I mean, I'm in IT - stretching the truth is a daily occurrence. Server from eBay anyone?
(james_tiger_woods is going to start his killing spree on the, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 9:49, 2 replies)

My P.E. teacher watched us all shower together for hygiene reasons
Or so I believed. He got sacked and is now on a register.

Click 'I like this' if deep down inside you want pics, then wait for police instruction.
(FoxyBadger (try saying it backwards), Wed 27 Aug 2008, 9:34, 8 replies)

K Y Jelly
I once tried to convince a particularly gulliable type that the well known brand of feminine water-based lubricant was changing it's name in a rebranding exercise.

To "I can't believe it's not batter!"
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Wed 27 Aug 2008, 9:32, 2 replies)

Playing on Stereotypes.
My Boss (Swedish)... is an idiot. He cares little about us and more about the people above him. In essence he "kisses up and kicks down". None of us have seen him for nigh on 4 months.

I like to fuck with him from time to time.

At the beginning of april this year I had a meeting with him to discuss whether I was happy or not with my work... time to play.

"Well, I was in the pub last night and met a bloke who's a gardener. We got drunk and got talking, and I explained that I didn't feel challenged at work.... He offered me a job as a gardener, and - I must have been Really drunk - I accepted"

... boss goes quiet.... "But Humpty... you work here and we really need you!"

"I know, but I'm a man of my word. I promised him he could rely on me, so I'm Honour-bound to keep to my promise. I hereby resign"

"To be a gardener?"

"Yup. Sorry"

I kept it up for a few more minutes, but I really felt like I was kicking a puppy. I had to let him off the hook: It genuinely looked as though he was going to cry.
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Wed 27 Aug 2008, 9:23, 1 reply)

April fools...
Sweden, like the UK has a few decent April-Fool's gags that have gone down in history.

The "Colour TV Hoax" of 1962 is the most famous one in Sweden.

STV was the only tv broadcaster at the time, and they wheeled on their technical expert who explained lots of tech-garble about light refraction and double-slit interference, and how a tight mesh infront of a black TV screen would allow people to see their B&W Tv in Colour.

It was further explained that after much testing, they had discovered Nylon Stockings were the best for this job. Thousands of Swedes went running for rolls of tape and stockings and diligently fitted them to their TV's

Many admit that they had to be told weeks later that it was a joke... and that they could remove the stockings from their TV sets.

Lovely...
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Wed 27 Aug 2008, 9:08, 1 reply)

Posh restaurant
I was eight the first time my father took me out to a proper 'posh' Chinese restaurant. It was to be my first ever experience of both chinese food and a proper Restaurant! He told me that I had to be on my best behavior and that it was very, very important that I had to follow proper eating etiquette, meaning I had to eat each type of food with it's own designated eating implement.

He then proceeeded to order me a special chop suey with half rice / half chips. In no time at all he had me eating the rice with one of the soup spoons, one fork was for the meat, the other for vegtables. The knife in the inside was used to cut the meat only and the other knife to cut up anything else. Excetera, excetera...

He also procceded to tell me off whenever I used the wrong combinations of all of the above. He wasn't happy untill I had used all of the provided three rows of cuttlery for my main course and had food strewn over most of the table. My antics had also provided a good few laughs to both the surrounding tables and the restaurant staff.

Git.
(uk_viper stopped lurking on, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 9:06, Reply)

I tend to prey on the Gullible for my own amusement.
I live in Sweden...

...And while the majority of IQ-related blonde stereotypes are truly blown out of the water here, you occasionally meet a winner.

I will on occasion - in the time-honoured tradition of a story-teller - take someone elses' story and re-tell it. This has given me hours of entertainment while feeding vacuous bimbos outrageous un-truths.

While most lies told to bimbos are of the "I'm hung like a horse and have no diseases" nature, I have no intention of bedding them as I'm not interested in brain-dead boxes of assorted creams. I like my lasses to be intelligent and with a sultry smile and a gleam in the eye... I digress.

My usual pub-haunt is a well known Irish bar in Malmö. The Pub is by no means a meat-market, but "english men" (try not to laugh) are considered "exotic" in Sweden. We're known to be good lovers and apparently appreciate the "Nordic Form" better than Swedish men do. We have - if you'll pardon the crudeness - a Season-Ticket to the cock-wash.

A friend and I regularly prop up the wall while the other absent-mindedly treats the darts board and surrounding furniture to some neolithic acupuncture. The regulars might be sat drinking quietly, and a few might be watching TV, and then there's us: Two Rock-climbers, talking english and throwing darts. We tend to draw the attention of the curious and the horny. We offer no complaint, but every now and then I have to play wingman and deal with the "bimbo" in a duo of girls.

I play with rumours of english culture... I don't enjoy footbal per say... "I just go for the fighting"
I also say I want to bring my kids up in the UK so that I'll be allowed to Beat them.

I even once managed to convince a lass that English people only inherit their family name until they get a job: At which point their name is changed to the job title of their first ever employment. My first job - for example - was working in a Bakery... hence my surname being "Baker"... I explained that Until I was 12 (I got the job at 13 like most other english people do) I was called SensibleNick Fitz-Windsor the 3rd.

Current favourite Bimbo-fired amusement is to use and old gem that I may have first read here.
"What do you do for a living?"
"Well, I'm a naturalist by trade, but I'm currently on sebatical" (words like "sebatical" seem to confuse drunk Scandinavian bimbos and make them believe you)
"Oooh... so, What are you doing before you go on Seba-tickle?"
"I worked for an Antarctic climate review panel, as a penguin-righter".
"A what?"
"A Penguin-Righter: you see, I'd go with the scientists as they flew around in their helicopters, and we'd record the positions of groups of penguins we flew over. Once we'd landed and the scientists started to do their tests, it'd be my job to put no the CrossCountry Skis, and go back to the penguins and put them back on their feet".
"But why did they fall over?"
"Well, there are no other big birds in Antarctica so the penguins never see things go over them... so when a Helicopter flies over them, they look up, and up and up... and then fall over backwards as they try to follow the helicopter's path through the sky... And as we all know.. Penguins don't have knees or Elbows, so they can't stand themselves up again: That's where I come in...."
.
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Wed 27 Aug 2008, 8:59, 7 replies)

Male Veterinary Nurse Wears Dress!
Mrs Strangechap used to be a Veterinary Nurse before popping out Baby Strangechap.

One day she told me they had a new nurse starting, called Lee, who was male. She then informed me that as there weren't very many male vet nurses, they didn't make a dark green uniform for men, and he would have to wear a female nurse dress, cut in half at the bottom and sewn together to make 'legs'.

Me being an angry kinda guy, immediately started ranting about how sexist this was and shouldn't be allowed. (Just as Mrs Strangechap knew I would).

As I paused for breath, I thought about it, saw the smirk on her face and the penny didn't so much drop, as plummeted.
(Strangechap I look normal on the outside..., Wed 27 Aug 2008, 8:56, Reply)

There's a girl at work
Who until recently thought John Mcririck did signing for deaf horse racing fans
(Heyzeus, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 8:17, 3 replies)

Yee Haw
My grandad told me that those thick cardboard pots he kept under his bed were actually cowboy hats.
(Heyzeus, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 8:09, Reply)

Mrs Spimf...
like many ladies seems to need to go to the loo quite a lot - often at inopportune moments. I've lost count of the amount of movies she’s missed crucial scenes in.

A few years back, we were out boozing with friends in Edinburgh. Around 2am I realised I was suddenly so hungry I could probably have eaten something even Mrs Spimf had cooked. So, en masse, we pile into the huge McDonalds branch on Princes Street. It was rammed - every till queued 10 deep. Standing in the queue Mrs Spimf whispers the all too familiar "I need to go to the loo". No problem thinks I until the person at the front of the queue asked where the toilets were only to be told the upstairs area was closed due to staff shortages - they had those velvet rope barrier things across the stairs. On hearing this I politely made my way to the head of the queue...

"Excuse me, are you the manager?

"Erm no"

"Can you get the manager for me please"

"Erm, yeah"

Disinterested lard spattered bint in a uniform a size too small shuffles over...

"Yeah, can I help you”?

"Yes, good evening, Mr Spimf, Environmental Health"

(For added effect I flashed a Blockbuster membership card at this point)

Two things happened

1. The manager bint seemed to suddenly get a belt of electricity up her bottom

2. Mrs Spimf sighs and melts back into the crowd – she’s seen this sort of nonsense before

“I understand you are providing food and beverages for public consumption on these premises without adequate provision of toilet facilities”

“Yes, but…”

“You are aware this contravenes the Trade Practices Act, 1974”

“Erm, no”

“Well I’m afraid ignorance of the law does not provide immunity”

(Crowd gets interested at this point)

“We have two options – either you open the upstairs area where your restrooms are or I close you down with immediate effect”

I think her capacious bottom might have made a small squeak at that point.

Within minutes the upstairs area was full of drunken idiots throwing chips and rolling joints unchallenged by the few overstretched McGoons.

Mrs Spimf got to the loo.

How anyone could be so gullible as to imagine a drunken environmental health officer might pay them a visit at 2am is well beyond my McComprehension.

!
( spimf ™ is whoever you want him to be, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 6:49, 7 replies)

It involed onions, several well known cigarette brands, a stuffed crow and the phrase, "Cunny Honey", regarding vaginal juices.
Click 'I Like This' and I'll tell you my most gullible moment.
(sorry., Wed 27 Aug 2008, 6:14, 6 replies)

Def Leppard! Greyhound buses! USA! Yaay!
Many years ago, before Joan Collins was born and Status Quo first went on the road, an 18 year old Spreddum was taking Greyhound buses all over the US visiting and generally enjoying lots of things Yankee.

My uniform, such as it was back then, consisted of jeans, and one of those union jack sleeveless t-shirts that Joe whatsisname lead singer of Def Leppard was wearing a lot. (I know. It was 1984 you know....) My reasoning was that proclaiming my Britishness might endear me to the local American ladeez and so it proved to be.

On one long leg from Atlanta up to Detroit, 3 very attractive sisters and their tasty mate all got on board and were sat near me. First question? "Are you in Def Leppard?"

Now being mostly ugly, I figured I could not get away with claiming to be in the band, so claimed instead to be road crew, and was taking some holiday to visit friends, or something along those lines.

This led to me being surrounded by the girls, and interrogated at some length which was basically "questions about Great Britain" with answers provided by yours truly.

As a result of this, I like to think that large parts of the rougher end of Detroit now believe that in England, it is the law to drink tea at 5pm. This is not enforced very strictly in the south, but up north you can get 6 weeks jailtime for not drinking tea at 5pm. Serious stuff indeed. Also, when we meet our Queen (which we do all the time in the shops in London) we must salute, though she tends to ignore you unlesss she needs change at the check out. Then she can be quite polite and friendly until she has your change, and then she just ignores you! The cheek of it (though possibly true if anyone has ever experienced this).

There were a few more, but it was their wide-eyed look of horror at having to drink tea that really got to me.

Never did have the heart to tell them that it was all bollocks and the driver eventually kicked them all off the bus when one of the sisters went in to great depth and detail as to what she was going to do to her boyfriend when she got home - all at high volume so that the entire bus knew what the lucky bastard was in for. Needless to say, all the male passengers were not happy with the driver's decision.

Hey Ho.
(Spreddum O Grrrr. That's my vicious circle, that is., Wed 27 Aug 2008, 4:45, Reply)

Pub Tales
.
I once told the whole pub that I was related to the guy who wrote the Hokey-Cokey.

"Really?" they asked.

"Yup. In fact I was one of the pall-bearers at his funereal. What a day that was. It was an old fashioned funeral, the kind where they have the corpse out on the bed so people can pay their last respects"

The whole bar was listening now.

"So, on the morning of the funeral, the undertakers arrived with the coffin and we had to put him in. Well we got the left leg in and then the trouble started........"

Cheers

That gag was inspired by a post I read on B3ta years ago.......
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 1:23, 2 replies)