My last experience was in 1989 when I bought a novel pretend barrel of beer with a little side end tap, 26 years later I had forgotten why I had chosen not to repeat the experience until last night.
I am currently on an alcohol reduction diet enforced by my girlfriend, I would normally get 2.5 glasses from a decent bottle of beer. 3 bottles consumed of an evening (by which time I like her a lot but she doesn’t reciprocate this love) but succumbed to a new 3 glass rule and bought myself a keg of Hobgoblin.
After reading the instructions fully I set the cask in place, made ready for operation, pressed the button and looked in horror at the large glass of shaving foam it produced… however a decompression valve at the top should undoubtedly cure this problem, no it doesn’t it reduces the flow to something in line with the last spurt of urine after a leisurely pee.
As you can imagine this creates a lot of “what are you doing in the kitchen” questions, gone are the days of open bottle and pour, back in two mins, now it is fill 3 glasses with froth, wait for them to settle and hopefully get one decent glass, toped up with a micro piss stream.
Who ever thought of these things is without doubt a cunt, they are impractical. Time wasting and frustrating.
My next plan will be to introduce the bloody thing to Mr Tin Opener see if that works.
Nominated by: Lord Benny
I’d like to nominate my mate Rob for a good cunting.
He’s an obnoxious, ugly, surly, huge-headed kiwi dwarf and is probably the most unpleasant bastard I’ve ever met.
I happen to work with the fucker and, not only is he incompetent, but he throws a screaming tantrum every time a work-related email lands in his work-related inbox. He spends all day whining about how shit his job is and about how much he hates the company (and everyone who works for it) yet does fuck-all about getting a new one. I stupidly busted my balls to get him the job when he was made redundant from his last one (which he also used to scream and shout about) and, instead of a polite “thanks”, all I received was a constant stream of whingeing and frequent reminders about how much better his previous one supposedly was.
He once told a colleague to fuck off when she wished him a happy birthday and verbally abuses anyone who dares bring cake around to celebrate theirs. And he now moans and whines that no-one pays his him any attention on his birthday.
You might be thinking that I should tell him about what a monumentally unpleasant hypocrite he is and the answer to that is that I did recently and he went on a fucking rampage through the office which would’ve been fairly funny if he didn’t smash up a screen I was planning on nicking to give to my missus for Christmas.
And he’s got gout.
What a cunt.
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Sounds like the sort of chap that needs to vent his pressure-relief valve on here. This place beats any therapy and I had some of that CBT head-shrink shit a year or so ago. That needs cunting on a monumental level.
First off they give you ‘workbooks’ with primary school drawings in and text lifted from PC exam papers, you know that sort of shit
– ‘Kayleigh has four dildos, Waseem has 12 batteries. calculate how long the dozy mare can pleasure herself before exhaustion sets in. If you do show your workings make sure you write in crayon and don’t stain the paper with maps of australia. You may not use a calculator’
He was so fucking useless he even gave me someone else’s workbook by mistake so I could read the interminable twaddle some other fruitcake had written, I just copied those answers into mine and the knob end was none the wiser.
And then the fucking psychobabble twat goes on about libido the fucking nosy voyueristic Freudian amateur. Dirty old cunt. I fibbed like fuck and got myself signed off the whole saga after 4 weeks. As I haven’t murdered anyone since and ignored most of it one reaches the conclusion it’s completely fucking useless. If it’s so good how come so many maniacs are still on the run?
Pills work fine, it’s all that careless talk that costs lives. Therapists are all cunts.
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Is the answer 64 hours ?
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Not necessarily. The clever cunts might ask if they were rechargeable.
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I ought to point out that I didn’t murder anyone prior to the CBT shit, not that it fucking matters I suppose. I’ll let you know if I get the urge though and take half a dozen of the mind probing twats out if I’m tempted beelzebub.
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my journey was memorable, being married to a nurse and having socialised with the mental health team I had to be treated out of area.
This meant a 3 month wait from chrissis too “treatment”,
when I was finaly seen I had got over it myself by changing career ect,
I got the “extreemly well adjusted, considering” score, and a sugestion that “meditation” may help, which I thought was rather strange as the whole problem came about from constantly restraining myself from hurting someone.
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Socialising with the mental health team must have been as much fun as a fortnight in Rampton. I reckon most people sort themselves out, it’s all those mind-fucking professionals that fill your head full of shit you didn’t have in the first place that pissed me off. I did the same – retired, that did the trick. I’ve now effectively swapped ‘general anxiety disorder’ (whatever that was) for Guiness, works well and tastes better.
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Never ever, fucking ever get a job for mates or family, fucking ever!!!!
The cunts will show you up, act like cunts and then blame you because they think they’re protected.
Don’t fucking do it!!! Seriously, don’t fucking do it!!!
Bad personal experiences from fucking ingrates.
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Been there. Done it. Employed a bloke a knew from college. Behaved like a cunt, Took the piss. Sucked up to the boss. Stabbed me in the back.
Defo don’t ever give a job to an acquaintance , never mind a mate!
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Another never: Never let a work colleague become a mate; trust me, you will get stabbed in the back even by your best man.
My old mentor said: If you can tick off five real friends on the fingers of one hand you are lucky beyond your dreams. Since he died: one, all else are passing acquaintances.
Older and wiser cunt with a healthy dose of cynasism.
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On his birthday, take a shit on his desk, insert a candle and light it.
Or use his company computer to search for underage porn :p
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ENFORCED alcohol reduction? Keep the beer and get shot of the girlfriend….
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Yes. Are you a man or a mouse?
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Or both a mouseman!
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squeek squeek squeek!
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Good choice of beer there; partial to bottle of Hobgoblin myself.
My boss brought a small keg of Adnams in to get the Christmas do going, but basically left in the boot of his car to roll around for a week and then just opened it expecting perfect draught ale.
It definitely wasn’t… those kegs just aren’t worth the hassle!
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He fucked that deformed beast Catherine Ashton and Satan fell out of her arse.
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