Profile for Ol' Ginger Bastard:
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- a member for 5 years, 5 months and 8 days
- has posted 22 messages on the main board
- has posted 61 messages on the talk board
- has posted 3604 messages on the links board
- (including 43 links)
- has posted 15 stories and 27 replies on question of the week
- They liked 117 pictures, 897 links, 1 talk posts, and 22 qotw answers.
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» Shoplifting
More Fraud, really
When I was a little Slut Monkey, at the age of 10, I and my primary school chums had just discovered a fascinating new game, called 'Dungeons & Dragons'. It had books, with cool pictures of monsters and big breasted elf girls, lots of fantastically shaped dice, and NO PLAYING BOARD!
WOW. Utterly amazing. Deciphering how to play it was like learning the black arts, and we gleefully worked our way through the first levels, imaginarily killing imaginary monsters with our imaginary magic and imaginary swords. Great fun. Then suddenly it came to a halt. We needed the next 'set', which cost a whopping 10 pounds! I begged and begged my mother to buy it, but she correctly noticed 'there's something wierd about that game...' and refused.
Cow.
So what do I do? Well, one day while poring over ads for shops in 'White Dwarf' (jazz mag for chronic nerds) I noticed an ad that immediately got my attention. It was a toy shop, in Alderney (a channel island) which, alongside listing their wares also had a little box showing that they accepted credit cards. To illustrate this, they also showed a tiny picture of a credit card.
Not tiny enough. Out came the magnifying glass... its an actual picture of a credit card! I can even remember the name, 'John Williams', it was an 'Access' card, it was now my new 'flexible friend'!
So I phoned the shop, put on my best deep voice, and ordered it, using the credit card details on the ad. I asked for it to be sent to my nephew, 'Master Ginger Slut Monkey', at his home address.
It was done. All I had to do was wait.
It only bloody turned up! Trouble was, I was at school at the time, and my mum got it. Naturally curious as to why her son had recieved a package from the Channel Islands, she opened it, finding the game I had been pestering her for, and the credit card invoice.
Shit. I was in lots of it. I'll never forget the look she gave the appaling monster she had given birth to.
Still, it only taught me one thing.
Planning is everything, plausible denial is all.
Blah blah length blah di blah.
(Tue 15th Jan 2008, 13:34, More)
More Fraud, really
When I was a little Slut Monkey, at the age of 10, I and my primary school chums had just discovered a fascinating new game, called 'Dungeons & Dragons'. It had books, with cool pictures of monsters and big breasted elf girls, lots of fantastically shaped dice, and NO PLAYING BOARD!
WOW. Utterly amazing. Deciphering how to play it was like learning the black arts, and we gleefully worked our way through the first levels, imaginarily killing imaginary monsters with our imaginary magic and imaginary swords. Great fun. Then suddenly it came to a halt. We needed the next 'set', which cost a whopping 10 pounds! I begged and begged my mother to buy it, but she correctly noticed 'there's something wierd about that game...' and refused.
Cow.
So what do I do? Well, one day while poring over ads for shops in 'White Dwarf' (jazz mag for chronic nerds) I noticed an ad that immediately got my attention. It was a toy shop, in Alderney (a channel island) which, alongside listing their wares also had a little box showing that they accepted credit cards. To illustrate this, they also showed a tiny picture of a credit card.
Not tiny enough. Out came the magnifying glass... its an actual picture of a credit card! I can even remember the name, 'John Williams', it was an 'Access' card, it was now my new 'flexible friend'!
So I phoned the shop, put on my best deep voice, and ordered it, using the credit card details on the ad. I asked for it to be sent to my nephew, 'Master Ginger Slut Monkey', at his home address.
It was done. All I had to do was wait.
It only bloody turned up! Trouble was, I was at school at the time, and my mum got it. Naturally curious as to why her son had recieved a package from the Channel Islands, she opened it, finding the game I had been pestering her for, and the credit card invoice.
Shit. I was in lots of it. I'll never forget the look she gave the appaling monster she had given birth to.
Still, it only taught me one thing.
Planning is everything, plausible denial is all.
Blah blah length blah di blah.
(Tue 15th Jan 2008, 13:34, More)
» Brain Fade
When the PS1 came out
I spent an awful lot of time taking acid and playing Doom.
I nearly pissed my pants once when I got up to go to the toilet and couldn't get into the bathroom.
The door was closed see, but I just couldn't find the square button.
(Fri 22nd Mar 2013, 9:29, More)
When the PS1 came out
I spent an awful lot of time taking acid and playing Doom.
I nearly pissed my pants once when I got up to go to the toilet and couldn't get into the bathroom.
The door was closed see, but I just couldn't find the square button.
(Fri 22nd Mar 2013, 9:29, More)
» Winging It
I just came in for a couple of days to help putting a document together
2 years later I'm still here, in charge of Water, Environment and Transport projects for the entire Asia Pacific region.
I STILL HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I AM DOING.
(Fri 29th Mar 2013, 2:15, More)
I just came in for a couple of days to help putting a document together
2 years later I'm still here, in charge of Water, Environment and Transport projects for the entire Asia Pacific region.
I STILL HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I AM DOING.
(Fri 29th Mar 2013, 2:15, More)
» Letters they'll never read
Dear Cunt I'm forced to work with
Where to start? Yes, it was me, I warned a friend about you, because she's a friend and you are just some prick who I share a mutual dislike with. I don't owe you anything at all, least of all any 'loyalty'. And please don't give it any of that 'bro's before ho's' bullshit either, we are both over 35 you fucking childish retard, grow the fuck up. And stop wearning your old university sweaters, you are not in college anymore you bell-end, grow the fuck up.
That said, I did not speak to our boss about your utter lack of professionalism or the fact that you are the most lazy and insincere person I have ever met in my life. Perhaps its the fact that our entire workplace has GLASS FUCKING WALLS you moron and everyone can see your substandard behaviour and work as clear as day has something to do with it. That and the fact that students have made their own complaints about you. It's also pretty obvious that it was you making the overtures to the married student of ours that lead her husband to make a complaint.
And for fucks sake stop leching over the schoolgirls.
yours sincerely (you might have to look that word up)
(Mon 8th Mar 2010, 3:07, More)
Dear Cunt I'm forced to work with
Where to start? Yes, it was me, I warned a friend about you, because she's a friend and you are just some prick who I share a mutual dislike with. I don't owe you anything at all, least of all any 'loyalty'. And please don't give it any of that 'bro's before ho's' bullshit either, we are both over 35 you fucking childish retard, grow the fuck up. And stop wearning your old university sweaters, you are not in college anymore you bell-end, grow the fuck up.
That said, I did not speak to our boss about your utter lack of professionalism or the fact that you are the most lazy and insincere person I have ever met in my life. Perhaps its the fact that our entire workplace has GLASS FUCKING WALLS you moron and everyone can see your substandard behaviour and work as clear as day has something to do with it. That and the fact that students have made their own complaints about you. It's also pretty obvious that it was you making the overtures to the married student of ours that lead her husband to make a complaint.
And for fucks sake stop leching over the schoolgirls.
yours sincerely (you might have to look that word up)
(Mon 8th Mar 2010, 3:07, More)