» Lies Your Parents Told You

Bunnies: It Can't Be Only Me!
I've read through the entire thread now, and have been forced to delurk for my first ever post, by the strange lack of tales about bunnies.

I mean, I can't be the only one who's parents made them quiver with terror at the mere mention of the fluffy toothed ones, can I?

For those of you who had parents who cared and therefore don't understand, it goes like this: the parent describes the bunny as "a hairy creature, with big teeth and big ears, that lives in a hole in the ground". However, they don't also mention that the bunny is a) small b) cute c) hasn't got fangs and d) only eats grass.

So basically I thought bunnies were a sort of giant, hole-dwelling troll. :( My parents never bothered retract their clumsy explanation of what a bunny is when they were having so much fun torturing me. "Be quiet, or I'll let the bunny rabbits have you!" would keep me quiet for hours.

Apparently, it all came to end on my third day at school, when my primary school teacher asked me whether I wanted to help feed the bunny she had bought in. Though I don't remember it myself, they say it took about 45 minutes to coax me out from under the headmasters car...

I still don't like going near bunnies; I have to force myself to remember that they aren't evil. Surely I am not alone in being mentally scarred in this manner...? Come on, confess it, you buggers.

Actually, now I come to think about it, my dad told me that the empty boiler suit that he had left down in the garage crawlspace was all that remained of the last person to annoy him, and my nan told me evil gypsys go around offering doped sweets to children, so they could sell them into slavery in Persia. My family was EVIL.
(Sun 18th Jan 2004, 20:52, More)

» I don't understand the attraction

The Caps Lock Key.
Why is this on a keyboard? I don't get the point of it at all; it seems to serve no purpose. aPART FROM IRRITATING YOU WHEN YOU HIT IT BY ACCIDENT.

Surely any useful function it performs is outweighed by unexpected erruptions of the above? Yet it must be popular somehow or other, or they wouldn't waste plastic adding it to our keyboards.... would they?


Having more than 1 Budgie

These creatures only saving grace is that you can teach them to talk. Get more than one, and the pointless flappping things serve no purpose but to shriek at each other without pause. Live with some deluded fool who has an aviary, and you'll soon learn that budgie language consists of only the following: EAT, SHIT, RAPE and KILL. Budgies don't look the remotest bit pretty when they are gang-pecking one of their own chicks to death, trust me. And the insane amount of bird shit loose and nut husks these things create... It smells awful.

Leaves me cold? Why, the thought of ever having to go near an aviary again actively makes my flesh want to crawl off my bones. Yet pointless paraphernalia for budgie avairies is a huge industry... Who are these people, and why do they hate their own lives so much?


Straight Women in Gay Bars

Well, actually I get the point of it: you ladies want to have a harmless flirt/good dance without having a drunken sloth of a straight guy try to get in your pants.

I completely understand that bit. And its great that you are cool enough to join us in our local. I won't mind dancing with you for a bit.

What I don't get is why you appear to gradually turn into the very guys you were trying to avoid! I'm a guy in a gay bar, dancing topless: surely it is obvious that you are NOT going to be able to pull me? A quick dance is fine, but I am NOT here to be your chippendale for the whole damn evening, so stop trying to dry-hump me and let me go. Yes, I'm sure you'd be delicious if I were a vagina-feeler, but I like cock, and I'm here trying to get picked up by someone in possession of one. Clear off.

Worst time this kind of thing happened, I was in the club, trying to get back with my ex Wayne, who I had messed up with spectactularly. And if I had a time-machine I'd still go back and brick myself in the face for that. ('I don't want to be tied down'?! Oh yes I bloody did; sometimes literally. I haven't found anyone half as nice since). We're having a good make -or- break chat when this taloned creature swoops out at me: she's here celebrating her gay mates 18th. Well, fine. But she's drags the skinny git with her, and wants me to have a birthday dance with him!? 'You can't say no', says she cheerily, 'You'll spoil his birthday!' Yeah, because all gay men are single sluts for 18yr olds, apparently.

Fantastic. What would you have done? Could you say 'no' to his face, on his 18th birthday party? This wasn't his fault, after all.

Remembering how hyper-sensitive I was at 18, I took the path of least resistance and gave in. So I have a grim dance with the barely pubescent bundle of nerves, and try to escape. Except Taloned Girl won't let me. 'Give him a birthday kiss!' she squeals, her nails digging in my back. I try to laugh it off and give him a quick peck on the cheek, but no: Taloned Girl wants me to give him a proper snog.

With my ex watching.

Who I'd just spent a good hour trying to convince that I really did want to settled down.

Maybe I can't totally blame Taloned girl for spoiling my last chance with Wayne - I know I'm a push-over - but I can certainly blame her for the scratches her talons made in my back. Actually:


Womens Long Fingernails

A fashion I do not get. I don't see the point of having anything more than 1 milimetre of nail. The things can't have any practical purpose and they hurt when they dig in. Maybe all straight blokes are masochists?
(Wed 21st Oct 2009, 10:36, More)

» Nativity Plays

mumble mumble mumble BLOOOOOOO!
If you don't understand the title of this post, you are a fortunate person and have clearly never had to be in the choir for Joseph and His Technicolour Dreamcoat.

I image those of us who have had this miserable pleasure are all smirking, but for those who don't, allow me elucidate:

There is a song, the dullest song in this dull musical,which forces a choir of miserable brats (legs crossed on the hard floor and going numb of course) to sing the many, many hues of said wonderous coat. Including such shades as Ochre, Russet, Azure and Olive. No, really.

What are the chances of any choir remembering that crap, if the nazi teacher won't let you use the lyrics on the Big Day?

Its not like they are on the actual coat that 'Joseph' is sporting, on account of it being a reject from the 1970's and probably still smelling of hemp. Invaribly, the *true* technicolour song therefore goes:

It was red and yellow and green and brown
And scarlet and black and ochre? and mumble?

(only the anal ones are still singing now)

And mumble and mumble and mumble and mumble
And mumble and mumble and mumble and mumble
And mumble and mumble and mumble and mumble
And BLUUUUUUUUUEEEEEEEEEEE

For true authenticity, on striking the word 'blue', the choir should all errupt with relief and sound like the mating call of a rhino.

If that does not occur, its not a real production of Joseph and his Technicolour Dreamcoat.
(Fri 3rd Apr 2009, 5:40, More)

» Picky Eaters

Cake Molesting Villany!
I see no mention of this vile habit, so I ask you all: who's bright idea was marizpan? Between the yummy cakey-goodness and sugar-overload icing, why would anyone put mildly gritty yellow plasticine?! Why?
(Fri 2nd Mar 2007, 19:03, More)

» Inappropriate crushes

Inappropriate crushes
Art.

The guy from here.

I think its the eyebrows.

Now, if only I could draw like our JollyJack, firstly Art would lose all his clothes in mysterious fire...
(Sun 1st Oct 2006, 21:00, More)