The song "Agadoo" well known as a black lace song, was originally penned by Mussolini.
In his pre war years when he was a happy go lucky Facist. 'Agadoo' is the Italian word for 'Chuckle'. This was covered up by the Jews due to Mussolini's close ties with Hitler and the Nazi party.
( BindiBaji, Fri 28 Aug 2009, 7:29, 3 replies)

I'm the genuine article
before you dismiss me, this has nothing to do with 9-11 etc.

It involves $134 billion in US Treasury Bonds (real or fake) and the complete blanket ban by all major news networks on the story.

Have a read of this story to get you started...

www.asianews.it/index.php?l=en&art=15456&size=A

"Milan (AsiaNews) – Italy’s financial police (Guardia italiana di Finanza) has seized US bonds worth US 134.5 billion from two Japanese nationals at Chiasso (40 km from Milan) on the border between Italy and Switzerland. They include 249 US Federal Reserve bonds worth US$ 500 million each, plus ten Kennedy bonds and other US government securities worth a billion dollar each.
Italian authorities have not yet determined whether they are real or fake, but if they are real the attempt to take them into Switzerland would be the largest financial smuggling operation in history; if they are fake, the matter would be even more mind-boggling because the quality of the counterfeit work is such that the fake bonds are undistinguishable from the real ones.

What caught the policemen’s attention were the billion dollar securities. Such a large denomination is not available in regular financial and banking markets. Only states handle such amounts of money.

The question now is who could or would counterfeit or smuggle these non-negotiable bonds.

In order to stop money laundering Italian law sets a ceiling of 10,000 euros per person for importing or exporting money without declaring it. The penalty for violating the law is 40 per cent of the money seized.

If the certificates were real, for Italy it would be like hitting the jackpot. The fine alone would amount to € (euro) 38 billion, five times the estimated cost of rebuilding quake-devastated Abruzzi region. It would help Italy’s eliminate its public deficit.

If the certificates are fakes the two Japanese nationals could get a very lengthy jail sentence for fraud.

As soon as the seizure was made the US Embassy in Rome was informed. Italian and US secret services were called in to assist the Italian financial police.

Some important international financial newspapers had already reported on the existence of ‘funny money’ circulating on parallel, i.e. unofficial, financial markets.

For AsiaNews a few points need considering:

1. When it comes to Italy the world press has tended to focus on Italian Prime Minister Berlusconi’s personal problems rather than on stories like the bonds smuggling affair which has been front page on Italian newspapers.

2. The fear of counterfeit bonds and securities has spread across Asia with the result that real securities are also considered with suspicion.

3. During the Second World War several countries at war printed and put in circulation perfectly counterfeit enemy money. It is also historically established that some central banks, like the Bank of Italy 65 years ago, issued the same securities twice (identical registered number and code). This way they could print more money with legal tender than they officially declared. The main difference though is that 65 years ago the world was involved in a bloody war, which is not the case today.
"

For those who are new to this story, this should help

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chiasso_financial_smuggling_case
(knackerz is skinning up, Fri 28 Aug 2009, 3:52, 12 replies)

I hate conspiracy theories
I really do.
I guess its not just me that wants to slap some sense into someone who insists on spouting some insane nonsense at me.
Yes I know it would really be a waste of time but I'd feel so much better for it * evil grin*
Tin foil hat?
Tin foil gag would me more like it.

I once had the misfortune to be trapped in a room with a very talented artist guy who was completely off his rocker ( and this planet ) with his wacky theories.
Brighton Arts Week, people exhibited in their homes and you went round and viewed them.
So there Iam in this odd bedsit with post it notes stuck all over the place that I thought was some kind of conceptual art but eventually realised were just weird and nothing to do with the installation.
Amongst them were some canvasses with very well executed designs.
I made the mistake of complimenting him on a couple.
Which ended up on me being held captive as he grabbd my arm every time I tried to leave, to explain the hidden meaning that only the pure and saved would recognise.
I cant for the life of me remember what his insane theory was as I just tuned out, nodded in a placatory fashion and wondered if I would escape without commiting articide.

Then there was the day I went to work wearing a turquoise top and trousers.
Walking to the shop I see lots of people also wearing turquoise outfits and they all smile and nod at me in a creepy knowing way.
I admit I'm a bit peturbed when I get to work and several people come into the shop and engage me in very odd conversation that goes over my head.
I hant got a fecking clue what they are on about.
Then someone asks me if I'm going to the 'conference' ?
'What conference?'
Then it transpires that David Icke is in town and doing his weird thing in the town hall.
I ring my boss and ask if I can close the shop and go home and change clothes.
After I explain why, the answer is yes, go home and change.
No way do I want to be associated with that utter fruit loop and neither does my boss.

But what in the Cosmos and Ether prompted me to wear that colour on that particular day?
eh eh?


Clamps mind tightly shut at the possibilty that ''THEY"" just might be putting out the ''Fluence''
(insomniac-surfer oh go on then, just this once, Fri 28 Aug 2009, 2:26, 4 replies)

Guinness Paul*
There's a bloke who comes in the pub where I work who, sadly, isn't the sharpest lemon in the bowl. His story is a long, dismal tale of sticking up for your rights and getting the shit kicked out of you, of head injuries and comas and drugs, both prescibed and recreational.
As a result of his condition (he's not a complete mong or anything, just a bit slow) he sees conspiracies and patterns everywhere. Everywhere.
He has, to date, showed me a blurry picture of the big cat that prowls around his workplace and only reveals itself to him (it looks like a normal cat but up really close), a mobile phone video of the UFO he saw (looks like star to me), a photocopy of a star chart that coincides not only with the pyramids of Egypt (God, he loves Egypt) but also with the freckles on his hand, and a newspaper cutting of Tutankhamun that he kept in his wallet that got damp once. The damp has caused the ink to run and he revels in pointing out the dozen or so faces that have appeared in the smudgy mess. "Can't be coincidence, that. Look, that one looks like you!"
I heard that he only drank bottled water because "they" put fluoride in tap water, so I asked him if he brushed his teeth, and if he knew who "they" were. He showed me a picture of a ghost by way of an answer.
He is also an accidental master of what I like to call "cyclical sentences", especially after a skinful of Guinness. They go something like this:
"Drugs are weird, aren't they? Like, some of them wake you up and give you loads of energy, but others make you sleepy. And hungry, Like a cat. Cos that's all cats do, isn't it? Just lie around and sleep and eat. Except cheetahs. They're always running around. They're like athletes, except cheetahs don't need steroids cos they're naturally fast. Athletes need steroids to be as fast as cheetahs. They're all full of drugs, athletes. See, that's the weird thing about drugs, some of them wake you up, right, and give you loads of energy, but others just make you sleepy. Sleepy and hungry. Like a cat. Just lying around all day, sleeping and eating. That's all cats do. Not cheetahs though. No, cheetahs are like athletes..."
I've lost count of the times I've pointed people out to him and watched with pure, childish glee as he's wandered over and talked them into a confused, gibbering paste. I wouldn't have him any other way.

Oh, and he stinks of TCP. I often smell him before I see him.
_{*Name changed to protect the crazy}
(Paolo Nutini's Bikini Better than Frederick Fleet's optometrist, Fri 28 Aug 2009, 2:11, 3 replies)

The smoker
Picture the scene: many moons ago, at an old man pub in Cheltenham.

I was chatting to an old man at said old man pub. He was a smoker, and damn proud of it.

The old man had a conspiracy theory about smoking. "Everyone's doing it wrong", said he.

"You have to draw it deep into your lungs. The problem is that everyone takes little drags, and it doesn't fully exercise all the lung muscles. If you can get it all out, then it's ok."

He was smoking those cigarettes without filters.

"The filters actually make it worse for you. Only the horrible shit gets through. You need the whole deal so your body can expel it properly."

Being a bit drunk, and a smoker at the time, I was almost won over by his argument.

"What if we've been just doing it wrong all this time?" I thought to myself.

Then, old smoking conspiracy man had the most elongated coughing fit I've ever experienced. It seemed to last hours. His whole theory went out of the window as quickly as the cigarette smoke.

I'm guessing he's dead by now. But if you believe in something that makes you feel happier about your disgusting, fatal habit, where's the harm? Other than the early death. And the years of horrible pain.
( krang, Fri 28 Aug 2009, 1:30, 2 replies)

The truth must be told
There are no such things as donkeys, they are all just ugly horses.
(Meanderthal has neon grey eyes, Fri 28 Aug 2009, 1:26, 2 replies)

Courting Alice part 2: b3ta COVER-UP and SUPPRESSION of THE FACTS!!! Read THE TRUTH here!
A couple of weeks ago I posted this:

www.b3ta.com/questions/schoolprojects/post501371

This post isn't going to make a lot of sense without reading that one by the way.

Anyway, from the comments it was obvious that most people didn't get that it was made up.

So, what actually happened.

'Alice' is an amalgam of five real people, but the first post is mostly based on one real incident.

Someone was having a big party. I don't know whether it was their birthday, or if their parents had gone away in hilarious teen-movie fashion.

This particular party kind of cut across my friendship group, in that my friends were invited and I wasn't. So my friends went to bat for me, saying that it wasn't fair on me and that they wouldn't go if I didn't get an invitation. Ha ha, fooled you again with my clever lies.

And, OK, if I was someone else, I wouldn't have wanted me at my party either. But on the other hand I'd like to have friends who thought I was good enough to hang around with even when there were other people there. Even though I probably wasn't, in all honesty.

Anyway, there was one of my friends in particular. I can't remember his name, even though I can remember most of the others' names. Let's call him Sleazy McFuckington.

You can probably see where this is going. My good chum and the 'Alice' of the moment had sex. The first I heard of it was when a group of my friends came over to gloat. A broad sense of humour we had in those days.

So, erm, yeah. I would've done the same, but still a bit of a blow.

Actually this might have been two incidents that I've stitched together in my memory: maybe the sex was at another party. But that's how I remember it.

The thing about buying a present from the Community Aid Abroad shop is based on a seperate incident with another person. Anyway, buying girls presents doesn't work.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 28 Aug 2009, 1:08, Reply)

Pentagon Crash
My Dad's absolutely convinced himself (he's ex-RAF) that the flight of the hijacked aircraft into the Pentagon was not done by a Saudi pilot who knew nothing about flying.

When talking to him about the attacks shortly after the video stills had been released my father made the pursing-of-lips "phew!" noise normally associated with him being impressed by something.

His exact quote: "That's some bit of flying".
(MrHappy, Fri 28 Aug 2009, 0:47, 6 replies)

The Conspiracy
The best well kept secret is this.
There is no Illuminati. Beliving that there is some kind of secret cabal that runs the civilised world is like beliving in some kind of omminescent being with a long flowing beard somehow runs the universe. The truth is far more terryfying. No one runs the world, its all a coalition of nations held together through mutual distrust and a dependence on fossil fuels. No one is in charge, the lynchpin of society is a spinning mass of greed and chaos.
(Gru being trolled since 1998, Fri 28 Aug 2009, 0:02, 3 replies)

"Andrew Lloyd Webber is a plagarist."
Not really a conspiracy, but I know a music teacher who's taken it so far that he boycotts anything to do with ALW, refuses to let anyone sing anything from his musicals, and spends his teaching hours blasting Rachmaninov and Sibelius at 14-year-olds to convince them that Webber has "stolen the music".

A friend and I (in our A2 year) used to use the practice rooms in our free periods, and overhear him yelling at the students who were unfortunate enough to mention liking Phantom during registration. To show our support for the kids, we would play highlights from the shows loudly on the piano. He always tried to drown us out. :P
(Sivvus trolley collision in the fruit aisle led to a jam, Thu 27 Aug 2009, 23:33, 4 replies)

I'm good friends with a mason
They're really normal people. Never boring company though.
( fuck shit up the best you never had, Thu 27 Aug 2009, 23:06, 8 replies)

None of them walk on by... they all pop in.
I have in my various jobs encountered:
1) A loony transexual who like to throw herself in front of police cars and has creepy pictures of disney princesses all over her shit tip of a house.She caused a total panic by burying her dead dog in a public grass verge, sparking a police search thinking it was a shallow grave.
2) A nut job who chnaged his name to Fox Mulder and would give out poorly made business cards stating he worked for British Intelligence. He would tell me repeatedly about some prostitute and his neighbour conspiring against him to order things on his Kays catalogue account.
3) A work shy loon who would smash up the benefits office and then write lengthy letters about the faliure of 'the system' any time we asked him for a sick note in order to pay his benefit.
4) A man who got on the bus and proceeded to give the passengers a sermon from the bible and demanded that we all said a prayer.


I am sure there are more, but these are my faves.

Love to your mothers,
(Just a girl., Thu 27 Aug 2009, 23:00, 2 replies)

The Daily Fail
I love the internet because it gives me far more interesting conspiracy theories to worry about than The Daily Fail.

And I'm a Freemason. No really, I am. It runs in the family (male and female). I'm a Lewis. It's not as exciting or as devious as you may think. Any questions about it, please ask.
(Big Smurf Brush me daddy-O, Thu 27 Aug 2009, 22:53, 2 replies)

IT IS EXTRORDINARILY IMPORTANT THAT EVERYONE HEARS YOUR MESSAGE!!!!!!
THIS IS THE INTERNET, AND THE ONLY WAY TO SHOUT YOUR ALL-IMPORTANT MESSAGE (YOUR MESSAGE IS ALL-IMPORTANT, RIGHT? RIGHT?!) IS TO SHOUT AND THE WAY YOU SHOUT ON THE INTERNET IS BY USING CAPS LOCK AND IT'S TOO MUCH TROUBLE TO TOGGLE CAPS LOCK OFF WHEN YOU HAVE SOMETHING LESS ENLIGHTENING TO SHARE WHICH DOESN'T REALLY HAPPEN OR APPLY ANYWAY BECAUSE EVERYTHING YOU DO OR SAY IS ALL IMPORTANT WE ALREADY DETERMINED THAT, DIDN'T WE? DIDN'T WE?! BESIDES IF WE WEREN'T MEANT TO USE CAPS LOCK WHY IS IT THERE I SEE IT ON EVERY KEYBOARD IT MUST BE THERE TO USE SINCE YOU CAN'T SHOUT ON THE INTERNET ANY OTHER WAY AND YOU HAVE TO SHOUT BECAUSE ITS INCREDIBLY IMPORTANT THAT YOUR MESSAGE BE HEARD BY EVERYONE. RIGHT? RIGHT?!

Sorry, I can't go on - it's exhausting. You get the idea. RIGHT? RIGHT?!
(danalan Pretty good, for an amateur., Thu 27 Aug 2009, 22:43, 2 replies)

My boyfriend is one
He listens to Alex Jones (http://www.inforwars.com) every day. Some of his theories:

- MMR injection causes autism
- 9/11 was an inside job
- The government are going to kill 80% of the population
- Oh, they're plotting a one world government
- The swine flu vaccine will damage us (fair enough, the '76 one did)
- We should all have private healthcare cos the NHS is gonna fuck us
- Yup, the Illuminati
- JFK wasn't shot by a lone gunman (fair enough) but it was the CIA.
- The FBI try to get the Anti New World Order crew to uprise, so they can beat them down and create martial law.

The list is actually endless.
( Methylene Blue - electrohead, Thu 27 Aug 2009, 22:24, 16 replies)

it involves billions... just ask them...
The most common conspiracy theory I hear about, pretty much every day, from literally hundreds of different people I've met - from all walks of life - princes and paupers, men and women, educated or ignorant, the good, the bad and the ugly - is this...

It's not their fault their life sucks.

Listen to em, it's amazing the lengths those evil conspirators will go to to ruin so many innocent people's lives, totally with out cause or reason.

Just amazing.
( Allisade would love to hear from you, Thu 27 Aug 2009, 21:26, Reply)

Tinfoil hats cause cancer

(SSSSS, Thu 27 Aug 2009, 21:14, 4 replies)

Irrational Rob
I work in the creative industry so you do meet a few interesting characters along they way ranging from 'colourful' to assumed to be 'constructing their own woman suit' at the weekend. Aside from the usual parade of certifiable bosses it was along this golden path I met Rob. Like so many of his type Rob seemed quite normal at first, if somewhat shy. I started to think Rob was a more than a bit strange when I tried to make arrangements to fly him down from Edinburgh to our London office for his induction, routine stuff. He looked utterly petrified.

“Oh noah! Can’t go on ‘t aeroplane” he droned in his thick Yorkshire accent.

He explained he could not fly as he ‘didn’t trust them’. I tried to convince him he would be safer on BA than in a sanctuary for unreasonable donkeys but he just looked at me like I was completely mad, muttering about crashes being 'hushed up all the time' – how you hush up a crash on the Edinburgh Glasgow shuttle service is quite beyond me. Nevertheless I went to considerable trouble to sort out a train ticket for him. When I came to give him the details of his trip he became quite agitated at the notion of travelling alone to ‘t' London’. I began to reassure him how simple it was to get from Paddington to our office in Kensington Village…

“Ok Rob so you get on the tube heading on the…”
“Oh noah! Can’t go on ‘t underground”

Again he looked at me like the Doc when Marty tells him all they need is a little plutonium. I ended up pinning a list on the wall of things that frightened Rob. It was a while back now and it was a long list but here are some of the items:

Planes (obviously)
Subways
Tunnels
Vampires
Beyonce’s thighs (i shit you not)
Loud noises
Silence
“Going too fast”
The wind
Electricity
Big dogs
Small dogs
Cats
Churches
Needles
Blood
And also many foodstuffs that were the subject of deep mistrust.

The list went on and on.

Rob liked the ladies but was also plainly scared of them. There were a fair few hot women in the office which naturally raised the odd blokey comment; we all laughed somewhat uncomfortably when he started discussing the viability of placing Rohypnol in the water cooler. We had a brainer once for a Valentines promotion. When asked to suggest some words that invoked romance to him, he thought hard for a moment, furrowed his brow then offered the immortal phrase -

“release the beast”...

fair changed the mood in the room - you could hear the rustle of tights as legs were crossed. He also used to get very exited on the evenings ‘sexeh neeebur’ gave him a lift home literally rubbing his thighs but with not a hint of Vic Reeves irony. On one occasion when one of the guys was leaving it was decided we should have a night out. Rob never came to these affairs but as soon as he got wind of the fateful words ‘lap’ and ‘dancer’ he was in!

We tumbled into a brilliantly grotty joint in Edinburgh called the Burke and Hare - an old school, sweaty-clopper-in-the-face-as-soon-as-you-walk-in-the door establishment. Rob just stopped in front of the podium and that was him; completely transfixed. He stood there with his anorak zipped up to the throat clutching his satchel like it had the precious things in it. He wouldn’t even take his eyes of the girls to be handed a beer. They had to be pressed into his hand periodically. We left in the end because he was upsetting the dancers.

I made the mistake one day of revealing I had some porn DVD’s I had bought from nearby emporium of filth. He was enthralled with this.

“So you just walk in and buy them?”
“Yeah mate you should go along if your interested”

Rob made it clear this would be impossible – apparently buying goods from the grot shop saw you placed on some ‘list’. This however did stop him carping on with requests that I bring them in so he could copy them.

“Erm yeah, no worries mate”

I breezed in the following morning. There was Rob sitting there beaming. He had come in early and downloaded some DVD rip software.

“’ave you got them?”
“Eh?”
“T’ mucky filums”
“Er no Rob, sorry, I forgot”

He became a bit obsessed with this. I was quite relieved when he announced shortly afterwards he was leaving. All was well. Tales of Rob’s obsessions fears and general lunacy became the stuff of office lore. A few months later a group of us out for a Friday boozy lunch bumped into Rob on the street. I asked how the new job was going. Rob had no time for such frippery

“I've got new software”
“Eh”
“Software – software to burn your mucky DVD’s”

I swear he was salivating. In a flash of panic/genius I threw my arms open and proclaimed I had renounced such evils since I had found God. (I had to get rid of him somehow). He recoiled with genuine horror. I told him I was born again but he was most welcome to join me in small gathering later that week where I would be ceremonially burning my lascivious films and my debauched popular music CD’s. My workmates struggled to keep their faces straight. Rob looked panicked made some quick excuses and scuttled off.

We then spent the rest of the afternoon in the office with me sending invites to Rob for ‘religious gatherings’ then reading Rob’s frantic emails to the bloke who worked next to me warning him of the dangers of working with me “since I had joined 'them'”

24 carat nutter.
( spimf ™ is whoever you want him to be, Thu 27 Aug 2009, 20:25, 11 replies)

Electricity
I don't believe all that silliness about electrons and Ben Franklin and such. (Have you ever seen a picture of him? if he really had caught a lightning bolt with his kite his hair would have been standing right up all over now wouldn't it?)

I personally subscribe to the Smoke Theory of "Electronics" (or "Smoketronics" if you're wise to it like I am).

All wires are filled with smoke, and the smoke is what makes everything work - not this "electricity" you never see which is just made up so they can bill you every month for nothing.

It's easy to prove this beyond a shadow of a doubt ... Just watch when something "electronic" breaks - POOF - what comes out of this container full of "electricity"??? does electricity poor out? NO. SMOKE DOES.

All the smoke comes out in a big cloud and you can't get it back in anymore (I've tried) and then your thing won't work and there's never an electron to be seen.

I rest my case.
( Allisade would love to hear from you, Thu 27 Aug 2009, 20:21, 6 replies)

Going to the moon
Worked with a guy when I was young, he explained to me how we never actually went to the moon. It must have been faked because - as any fool would figure out if they thought about it for half a minute, it's just impossible to build a diesel engine big enough to drive there with.
( Allisade would love to hear from you, Thu 27 Aug 2009, 20:13, 1 reply)

Tinfoil hats are in fact a government conspiracy
I love the tinfoil hat brigade, but what they don't realise is that their shiny headwear actually makes the problem worse.

To explain, a few years ago some boffins from MIT actually sat down and did some research. They convinced their professor to let them dick around with a quarter of a million dollars worth of kit and tested the effectiveness of tinfoil hats.

Surprisingly the results were not what was expected. All the styles of hat tried actually amplified any signals coming in from outside, and in some cases doubled their strength. If you have a microchip radio implanted in your head it too is amplified by the headgear.

The only explanation is that the secret government spooks have popularised the concept of tinfoil hats to further their evil schemes. Either that or the boffins in question are in fact government agents themselves trying to get people to take off their tinfoil hats.

More details here.
(paxvobiscum, Thu 27 Aug 2009, 20:02, 1 reply)

I work at NASA
and I'm an alien.



A non-resident alien in the charming parlance of the US immigration authorities.
(Dr. Scambolic, Thu 27 Aug 2009, 19:32, 1 reply)

People who believe cliques on internet messageboards actually exist.
Given how many people on the internet are Socially-Inept Tits (abbreviated to SIT), this happens a lot. When they encounter new messageboards, this is the typical course of events:

1. SIT logs onto a messageboard, and doesn't pay any attention to the existing contents.
2. SIT posts a new thread full of drivel which is a) incoherent, b) racist, c) a failed attempt at humour, or d) all three.
3. Regular users put their heads in their hands and get somewhat ticked off by SIT.
4. Instead of realising their mistake and backing down, SIT gets huffy and throws a tantrum.
5. SIT develops a very self-important persecution complex, and believes everyone on the messageboard (and possibly the world) has united into a group whose sole purpose is to oppress them and them alone, just like the Jews in World War II, man. The SIT will always use the word "clique" to describe this unspeakably evil group of faceless internet users.

The real-life equivalent would be going into a pub, approaching a group of strangers, talking a load of rubbish at them which is completely unrelated to their conversation, then stomping away crying about what a victim you are when they tell you to piss off. True, some messageboards are friendlier than others, but if you're completely outside the users' ken and you still manage to irritate them with your social cack-handedness, then you can be assured that the blame does not lie in the hands of a mysterious, ill-defined clique which almost certainly doesn't exist outside your oversized head.
( The Mock TurtIe ™ --- Thinks you are a cunt, on, Thu 27 Aug 2009, 19:32, 5 replies)

My laptop
All I did was take my laptop into PCworld to get it fixed.



The rest is history.



Paul Gadd
(Pill Popper Thank you Sasha Shulgin, Thu 27 Aug 2009, 19:18, Reply)

Dreadful news for those of you smart enough to have prevented thought control

by wearing tin foil hats: The omnipotent “THEY” who control the world* have developed a method of breaking through the time honored tin and aluminum foil hats. Copper foil is still good though, it has much too powerful healing rays for the bastards to overpower.

Keep vigilant to protect your freedom!!!

*except for the valiant efforts of the anti-THEY who have kept us free for five hundred years through the terrible sacrifices they have had to make.
(MichaelS wasn't picked again, Thu 27 Aug 2009, 18:45, Reply)

There must be something I don't know about...
There are two kinds of mass conspiracy theory going on where I live, both very much linked.

As well as going to uni Monday to Friday, I work in a pub from Friday to Sunday, and manage to fit in about 24 hours there. When I work nights I don't finish until at least 2.30am, and so am not always up at the crack of dawn, and neither are none of the other staff. Every single other member of staff is either in education or has at least one other job. Yet, according to the customers, the fact that we don't jump out of bed at 7am on the dot makes us 'lazy'.

Yes - the people sat in the pub all afternoon boozing whilst we work call us lazy. So, there you have it - either:

a)There's something going on that the staff don't know about which means that the customers are all ACTUALLY AT WORK when they're in the pub (whether this means that they all have clones or are all actually paid to sit in the pub, possibly conducting some espionage we're not sure, but whatever it is, the government would be keeping it quiet)

OR

b) Being a barmaid is actually a really cushy and easy job, where you never have to hear the same shit over and over again, don't get perved on by men old enough to be your grandad, don't have to break up fights, don't have to carry people out to taxis, don't have to perform first aid on people who've fallen, and NEVER get beer all over your nice new shoes.


I think I know which theory I'm inclined to believe.
(BelladonnaAnodyne Melissa's gonna wet herself, I swear..., Thu 27 Aug 2009, 18:30, Reply)

Around 2003.
There was this nutter on UK TV a few years ago. Claimed that the president of Iraq was conspiring with Al-Qaeda to supply chemical weapons and could bomb London in 45 minutes. All total bollocks of course.
Think he was called Blair or something ...
(Cameltoad, Thu 27 Aug 2009, 18:11, Reply)

Second coming of Christ
My next door neighbour is a lovely sort. Do anything for you but he's got a touch of mel gibson about him.
He has regaled me for many hours on Thatcher's "cabinet of Jews" and all manner of anti-semitic rubbish. Now most people would say "you cant say that" or "bless him, he's old, thats how they used to talk back in the day" but I love to hear his garbled rubbish on how the world is run.
One day he was telling me about how David Icke (rolls eyes, I know) was commenting (sic) on a snooker match in coventry when the lights all went off. This coincided with the pope (JP2, I think) taking a detour while on a trip to england (must've been 1981) to an orphanage in Cantebury (while pretending he was only visiting the cathedral). The reason for this detour was the re-incarnation of Christ himself, who happened to be a child being raised in said orphanage. This also had something to do with the masons and as previously mentioned Thatchers "Sons of David cabinet" (his words, not mine).
Nothing about space-lizards yet and he hasn't fashioned himself a fashionable bonnet made from kitchen foil but I will keep you informed.

Apologies for randomness but thats how he presented it to me and I couldn't understand it either. I just stood there nodding.
(WOGAN'S WIG FIXER, Thu 27 Aug 2009, 17:54, Reply)