b3ta.com user The Mysterious .
You are not logged in. Login or Signup
Profile for The Mysterious .:
Profile Info:

I'm a Bohemian Bumble Bee
I fly because I am free
I'm black and black striped
And if you laugh you'll get knifed
Because I'm the Bohemian Bumble Bee

Recent front page messages:


none

Best answers to questions:

» The Onosecond

Novell networks (again)
At our school, it's possible to send instant messages through the network. Simply locate the username of a friend, type away and click send. Very useful in Maths when our super-strict and psychopathic teacher is doing work on his laptop. His hearing might be good, but he can't catch our e-mails.
The usernames at school use the persons initails and a number at the end. For example, Robert Thomas Smith becomes RTS1. So naturally, when sending a message to my mate Michael Jack Finley, MJF1 looked to be the best choice. So I sent him a message along the lines of 'Oi! What the fuck are you doing, you midget shit!'
Feeling quite pleased with myself, I scrolled down the page only to see an MJF2 on the list. Look up, and see my teacher (Michael Something Ford) steaming down on me . Let's just say I've only just got out of detention, and I'm leaving my school in a couple of weeks.
(Thu 26th May 2005, 11:40, More)

» Misunderstood

School days
A collection of comments delivered by me (16) to schoolmates:
'Well, come on - it's a bit like Allende and Chile. I mean, it's not the first time the USA has tried to undermine democratic process and install a neo-fascist military dictator.'
'If you don't care about politics then you're useless to society and should lose your right to vote!'
'Actually, I'm a christian and I think it's really good to have something to believe in that's different from getting pissed and getting laid for the next twenty years.'

Collected responses:
'Eh?'
'What?'
'Don't be such a wanker.'

I think I may be a wee bit misunderstood.
(Fri 7th Oct 2005, 21:17, More)

» Posh

Poshness
Is purely relative. I live oop North, so my Southern (born in London) accent gets me the posh label. Also, I don't have a TV, which for some reason makes it worse. And my dad was a high-ranking copper. Which includes free tickets to the boardroom of our local football club. Where I saw the amusing once-in-a-lifetime view of Arsene Wenger walking into the ladies loo. French twat.
(Sun 18th Sep 2005, 15:14, More)

» Stupid Tourists

Damn tourists!
Age 7, on a long family holiday to the USA from Glasgow, we stayed over in Las Vegas. To be honest, most of the Yanks we met were OK, with the notable exception of the pizza shop clerk who had the following exchange with my eldest sister:
'Hey, nice shoes. Where did you get them?'
'Scotland'
'I've never heard of that shoe shop!'

But anyway, the cream on the cake was a group of Dutch tourists who were staying in the same hotel as us when we were en route to San Francisco from LA. Upon hearing our Scottish accents they asked us, in perfect English (why I love most of the continent - they all want to speak English to you and don't care when I massacre their language :) whether all Scottish people are like Braveheart.
We didn't have the heart to tell them that we didn't, so we told them that we only dressed up like this when we wanted to go on holiday.
I have pleasant visions of the same tourists turning up in the Gorbals and asking a local where Mel Gibson was.
(Fri 8th Jul 2005, 10:53, More)

» Premonitions

I'm a crazy dreamer
I had a very crazy dream about how their was some sort of nasty and very infectious disease going about. The main sympton was being able to see a blue arrow on the back of your hands, with three lines going to the arrow head. I woke up the next morning only to find my veins in exactly the same configuration on the back of my hand.

I aslo dreamt that my mum had died in a train crash. Then I dreamt that I woke up, realised it was a dream, went downstairs and was told my mum had died. A premonition within a dream? When I woke up for real I was convinced that my mum had died and was quite freaked out when she walked into the kitchen.

On the other hand, I don't really trust my dreams. Especially after I had a nightmare about being stuck in a sarcophogus on Hitler's submarine. Oh yes, very strange. I also dreamt about meeting Jesus in a pub and talking about whether a continously refilling mug of Pepsi was evil or not. The conclusion? Not evil, because nobody owned it.

I dream wierd. And I dream long, so apologies for length. Not that I've had any complaints.
(Fri 19th Nov 2004, 22:50, More)
[read all their answers]