Profile for Juan - King of Donkeys:
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- a member for 17 years, 0 months and 11 days
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» Terrible Parenting
Robot Grandma
When my daughter was three or four, I told her that I had replaced her Grandma with a very lifelike robot. I told the little girl that if she asked 'Grandma' about this, it would cause 'Grandma' to become very angry. So from then on she belived that her birthday presents were being sent to her by a fully functioning robot programmed with the complete range of Grandma capabilities.
Said daughter is now nine and still has her doubts.
I accept this is very bad parenting and am ashamed. However, in my defence, I have not taught her the story about the old man with a beard who lives in the sky and watches her - that would have been really cruel.
(Sat 18th Aug 2007, 17:07, More)
Robot Grandma
When my daughter was three or four, I told her that I had replaced her Grandma with a very lifelike robot. I told the little girl that if she asked 'Grandma' about this, it would cause 'Grandma' to become very angry. So from then on she belived that her birthday presents were being sent to her by a fully functioning robot programmed with the complete range of Grandma capabilities.
Said daughter is now nine and still has her doubts.
I accept this is very bad parenting and am ashamed. However, in my defence, I have not taught her the story about the old man with a beard who lives in the sky and watches her - that would have been really cruel.
(Sat 18th Aug 2007, 17:07, More)
» The most childish thing you've done as an adult
Shopping
The wife was dragging me and the kids round Tesco a couple of weeks ago. On the way through the veg area, I picked up some loose spuds and quietly dropped them in the trolley. Next it was off to the clothing area, so the wife could touch the precious things.
Meanwhile I spent a happy ten minutes ramming spuds into the toes of fluffeh slippers and wedging them into the pockets of cardigans. Obviously, I was encouraging the kids to join in, but they wouldn't play.
So if you bought some clothing from Shepton Mallet Tesco in the last week or so and when you got home found a rotting potato festering in your new purchase, then sorry.
Mind you, it's actually quite likely most of the drooling inbreds of Shepton would just think it was some sort of Tesco 'buy any piece of clothing and get a free rotten potato' type deal. In fact, more likely they wouldn't know it was a potato as it wasn't crinkle cut.
I am forty - do I get a lollipop for being good?
(Tue 22nd Sep 2009, 16:00, More)
Shopping
The wife was dragging me and the kids round Tesco a couple of weeks ago. On the way through the veg area, I picked up some loose spuds and quietly dropped them in the trolley. Next it was off to the clothing area, so the wife could touch the precious things.
Meanwhile I spent a happy ten minutes ramming spuds into the toes of fluffeh slippers and wedging them into the pockets of cardigans. Obviously, I was encouraging the kids to join in, but they wouldn't play.
So if you bought some clothing from Shepton Mallet Tesco in the last week or so and when you got home found a rotting potato festering in your new purchase, then sorry.
Mind you, it's actually quite likely most of the drooling inbreds of Shepton would just think it was some sort of Tesco 'buy any piece of clothing and get a free rotten potato' type deal. In fact, more likely they wouldn't know it was a potato as it wasn't crinkle cut.
I am forty - do I get a lollipop for being good?
(Tue 22nd Sep 2009, 16:00, More)
» Insults
When I was in the Navy
I was on a one year engineering course at a secret location near Gosport. There were 12 of us on the course, all junior Officers getting ready to join our first ships. As I'm sure you can imagine, it was all very polite and well mannered stuff. Rah, rah, rah!
Finding things all a bit easy, after a couple of months, we had perfected a routine where we would get lunch over and done with as fast as possible to give ourselves maximum time for chucking beer down our throats and playing snooker, before going off to play with some rotating machinery in the afternoon. Clearly, this plan depended on getting into lunch early before the queues built up. This meant that anything delaying the end of the last morning lecture was unwelcome - to put it politely
Anyway, it was approaching lunchtime one day and a long and boring lecture on diesel engines was coming to and end.
Sat at the front were the two girls on our course. The 12 of us all got on fine, but this was the days when a lot of the older blokes in the Navy were not terribly used to working with women. And the lecturer that day was one of them. On reaching the end of his notes, he asked if there were any questions - as his Instructional Technique training had taught him.
Well, one of the girls (the ginger one) had a question. Oh dear.
The bloke sat next to me was so utterly bewildered and outraged that the beer plan was under threat that before the question was asked he blurted out 'OH SHUT UP, YOU STUPID GINGER BITCH'.
Brilliant! The old boy lecturing didn't know what to do. How should he react, the poor sod had spent most of the previous 20 years at sea and was just stood there looking bewildered. Naturally, we were all laughing our heads off.
He dismissed the class and asked Ginge to stay behind, where he asked her if she was alright. Bless.
Yes, she was fine, but as a result was late for lunch and missed her beer and snooker. That'll learn her - the Stupid Ginger Bitch.
Length? Your mum. Or something.
(Mon 8th Oct 2007, 5:16, More)
When I was in the Navy
I was on a one year engineering course at a secret location near Gosport. There were 12 of us on the course, all junior Officers getting ready to join our first ships. As I'm sure you can imagine, it was all very polite and well mannered stuff. Rah, rah, rah!
Finding things all a bit easy, after a couple of months, we had perfected a routine where we would get lunch over and done with as fast as possible to give ourselves maximum time for chucking beer down our throats and playing snooker, before going off to play with some rotating machinery in the afternoon. Clearly, this plan depended on getting into lunch early before the queues built up. This meant that anything delaying the end of the last morning lecture was unwelcome - to put it politely
Anyway, it was approaching lunchtime one day and a long and boring lecture on diesel engines was coming to and end.
Sat at the front were the two girls on our course. The 12 of us all got on fine, but this was the days when a lot of the older blokes in the Navy were not terribly used to working with women. And the lecturer that day was one of them. On reaching the end of his notes, he asked if there were any questions - as his Instructional Technique training had taught him.
Well, one of the girls (the ginger one) had a question. Oh dear.
The bloke sat next to me was so utterly bewildered and outraged that the beer plan was under threat that before the question was asked he blurted out 'OH SHUT UP, YOU STUPID GINGER BITCH'.
Brilliant! The old boy lecturing didn't know what to do. How should he react, the poor sod had spent most of the previous 20 years at sea and was just stood there looking bewildered. Naturally, we were all laughing our heads off.
He dismissed the class and asked Ginge to stay behind, where he asked her if she was alright. Bless.
Yes, she was fine, but as a result was late for lunch and missed her beer and snooker. That'll learn her - the Stupid Ginger Bitch.
Length? Your mum. Or something.
(Mon 8th Oct 2007, 5:16, More)