|
Post by Officer Barbrady on Feb 4, 2018 9:11:17 GMT
Another true carpark story, just last week actually. On returning to my car I noticed some new stone chips, lots of them. I was fckn salty, the Council had just been resurfacing my road again -" fckn lady gardenz" new car init "FFS" I had both hands on the bonet closely inspecting the damage whilst cursing loudly. The remote central locking failed, then I must have jamed the key in upside down "oh FFS" I am now fighting with the door lock. As I look up "WTF", there's some lady garden sat in the drivers seat of my car (staring wildly at me). Thats when I realized it wasn't actually my car, mine was two spaces down. I was gone.... rapido , with a sh1t eating grin. I'll bet that belter doesn't park his similar car near to me again. Pleased about the stone chips though. ha ha that’s a great story. Reminds me of that urban legend about the train station and the biscuits - you know that one?
|
|
|
Post by Gasshole on Feb 4, 2018 9:27:57 GMT
Another true carpark story, just last week actually. On returning to my car I noticed some new stone chips, lots of them. I was fckn salty, the Council had just been resurfacing my road again -" fckn lady gardenz" new car init "FFS" I had both hands on the bonet closely inspecting the damage whilst cursing loudly. The remote central locking failed, then I must have jamed the key in upside down "oh FFS" I am now fighting with the door lock. As I look up "WTF", there's some lady garden sat in the drivers seat of my car (staring wildly at me). Thats when I realized it wasn't actually my car, mine was two spaces down. I was gone.... rapido , with a sh1t eating grin. I'll bet that belter doesn't park his similar car near to me again. Pleased about the stone chips though. ha ha that’s a great story. Reminds me of that urban legend about the train station and the biscuits - you know that one? The only one I know is don’t stand too close to the edge of the platform when the Express comes through - or you’ll get sucked off.
|
|
|
Post by Officer Barbrady on Feb 4, 2018 9:52:59 GMT
ha ha that’s a great story. Reminds me of that urban legend about the train station and the biscuits - you know that one? The only one I know is don’t stand too close to the edge of the platform when the Express comes through - or you’ll get sucked off. View Attachment Good to know It was Douglas Adams it turns out and it goes like this: This actually did happen to a real person, and the real person is me. I had gone to catch a train. This was April 1976, in Cambridge, U.K. I was a bit early for the train. I’d gotten the time of the train wrong. I went to get myself a newspaper to do the crossword, and a cup of coffee and a packet of cookies. I went and sat at a table. I want you to picture the scene. It’s very important that you get this very clear in your mind. Here’s the table, newspaper, cup of coffee, packet of cookies. There’s a guy sitting opposite me, perfectly ordinary-looking guy wearing a business suit, carrying a briefcase. It didn’t look like he was going to do anything weird. What he did was this: he suddenly leaned across, picked up the packet of cookies, tore it open, took one out, and ate it. Now this, I have to say, is the sort of thing the British are very bad at dealing with. There’s nothing in our background, upbringing, or education that teaches you how to deal with someone who in broad daylight has just stolen your cookies. You know what would happen if this had been South Central Los Angeles. There would have very quickly been gunfire, helicopters coming in, CNN, you know… But in the end, I did what any red-blooded Englishman would do: I ignored it. And I stared at the newspaper, took a sip of coffee, tried to do aclue in the newspaper, couldn’t do anything, and thought, What am I going to do? In the end I thought Nothing for it, I’ll just have to go for it, and I tried very hard not to notice the fact that the packet was already mysteriously opened. I took out a cookie for myself. I thought, That settled him. But it hadn’t because a moment or two later he did it again. He took another cookie. Having not mentioned it the first time, it was somehow even harder to raise the subject the second time around. “Excuse me, I couldn’t help but notice…” I mean, it doesn’t really work. We went through the whole packet like this. When I say the whole packet, I mean there were only about eight cookies, but it felt like a lifetime. He took one, I took one, he took one, I took one. Finally, when we got to the end, he stood up and walked away. Well, we exchanged meaningful looks, then he walked away, and I breathed a sigh of relief and st back. A moment or two later the train was coming in, so I tossed back the rest of my coffee, stood up, picked up the newspaper, and underneath the newspaper were my cookies. The thing I like particularly about this story is the sensation that somewhere in England there has been wandering around for the last quarter-century a perfectly ordinary guy who’s had the same exact story, only he doesn’t have the punch line.
|
|
|
Post by Gasshole on Feb 4, 2018 10:01:53 GMT
The only one I know is don’t stand too close to the edge of the platform when the Express comes through - or you’ll get sucked off. Good to know It was Douglas Adams it turns out and it goes like this: This actually did happen to a real person, and the real person is me. I had gone to catch a train. This was April 1976, in Cambridge, U.K. I was a bit early for the train. I’d gotten the time of the train wrong. I went to get myself a newspaper to do the crossword, and a cup of coffee and a packet of cookies. I went and sat at a table. I want you to picture the scene. It’s very important that you get this very clear in your mind. Here’s the table, newspaper, cup of coffee, packet of cookies. There’s a guy sitting opposite me, perfectly ordinary-looking guy wearing a business suit, carrying a briefcase. It didn’t look like he was going to do anything weird. What he did was this: he suddenly leaned across, picked up the packet of cookies, tore it open, took one out, and ate it. Now this, I have to say, is the sort of thing the British are very bad at dealing with. There’s nothing in our background, upbringing, or education that teaches you how to deal with someone who in broad daylight has just stolen your cookies. You know what would happen if this had been South Central Los Angeles. There would have very quickly been gunfire, helicopters coming in, CNN, you know… But in the end, I did what any red-blooded Englishman would do: I ignored it. And I stared at the newspaper, took a sip of coffee, tried to do aclue in the newspaper, couldn’t do anything, and thought, What am I going to do? In the end I thought Nothing for it, I’ll just have to go for it, and I tried very hard not to notice the fact that the packet was already mysteriously opened. I took out a cookie for myself. I thought, That settled him. But it hadn’t because a moment or two later he did it again. He took another cookie. Having not mentioned it the first time, it was somehow even harder to raise the subject the second time around. “Excuse me, I couldn’t help but notice…” I mean, it doesn’t really work. We went through the whole packet like this. When I say the whole packet, I mean there were only about eight cookies, but it felt like a lifetime. He took one, I took one, he took one, I took one. Finally, when we got to the end, he stood up and walked away. Well, we exchanged meaningful looks, then he walked away, and I breathed a sigh of relief and st back. A moment or two later the train was coming in, so I tossed back the rest of my coffee, stood up, picked up the newspaper, and underneath the newspaper were my cookies. The thing I like particularly about this story is the sensation that somewhere in England there has been wandering around for the last quarter-century a perfectly ordinary guy who’s had the same exact story, only he doesn’t have the punch line. Ha ha ha, that’s classic Bert
|
|
|
Post by yategasman on Feb 4, 2018 10:57:43 GMT
Claire is ace. The others..... well the less said the better.... And she has really nice nails😊
|
|
|
Post by 2nd May 1990 on Feb 4, 2018 11:32:44 GMT
Another true carpark story, just last week actually. On returning to my car I noticed some new stone chips, lots of them. I was fckn salty, the Council had just been resurfacing my road again -" fckn lady gardenz" new car init "FFS" I had both hands on the bonet closely inspecting the damage whilst cursing loudly. The remote central locking failed, then I must have jamed the key in upside down "oh FFS" I am now fighting with the door lock. As I look up "WTF", there's some lady garden sat in the drivers seat of my car (staring wildly at me). Thats when I realized it wasn't actually my car, mine was two spaces down. I was gone.... rapido , with a sh1t eating grin. I'll bet that belter doesn't park his similar car near to me again. Pleased about the stone chips though. This reminds me of what happened to us a couple of months ago. I picked up my son from after school club on my way home from work, and even though it's only a 2 minute drive home, he fell asleep in the car. He's only 4 and the youngest in the school...... When I got home there was a similar car to mine parked outside my house so I had to park somewhere else. I brought my son in and managed to put him down gently enough not to wake him up. An hour later I hear the sound of him crying and shouting, so I run into his room, and he's at the window screaming 'Daddy, there's a woman outside stealing your car!' After realising what had happened I said 'no, that's not my car. We're parked across the road,' to which he replied 'so why's she stealing her own car?'
|
|
|
Post by Officer Barbrady on Feb 4, 2018 11:44:20 GMT
Another true carpark story, just last week actually. On returning to my car I noticed some new stone chips, lots of them. I was fckn salty, the Council had just been resurfacing my road again -" fckn lady gardenz" new car init "FFS" I had both hands on the bonet closely inspecting the damage whilst cursing loudly. The remote central locking failed, then I must have jamed the key in upside down "oh FFS" I am now fighting with the door lock. As I look up "WTF", there's some lady garden sat in the drivers seat of my car (staring wildly at me). Thats when I realized it wasn't actually my car, mine was two spaces down. I was gone.... rapido , with a sh1t eating grin. I'll bet that belter doesn't park his similar car near to me again. Pleased about the stone chips though. This reminds me of what happened to us a couple of months ago. I picked up my son from after school club on my way home from work, and even though it's only a 2 minute drive home, he fell asleep in the car. He's only 4 and the youngest in the school...... When I got home there was a similar car to mine parked outside my house so I had to park somewhere else. I brought my son in and managed to put him down gently enough not to wake him up. An hour later I hear the sound of him crying and shouting, so I run into his room, and he's at the window screaming 'Daddy, there's a woman outside stealing your car!' After realising what had happened I said 'no, that's not my car. We're parked across the road,' to which he replied 'so why's she stealing her own car?' ha ha bless him
|
|
|
Post by scoobydoogas on Feb 4, 2018 11:46:01 GMT
I was in W-S-M about 12 years ago when ScrappyDoo was little. We had been walking around a lot and he was getting tired. I had bought a few things and was carrying them with me in bags. He wanted a toy from a shop. It was quite big so I bought it on the proviso that he carried it back to the car himself. He said "but I'm tired, can you carry me" to which I replied "I can only carry one extra thing. It's either you or the toy". I fully expected him to carry the toy all the way back to the car rather than put it back on the shelf. He stood there for a while and I'll never forget his reply. "Dad, you carry me and I'll carry the toy". Kids logic, eh?
|
|
|
Post by 2nd May 1990 on Feb 4, 2018 11:51:33 GMT
I was in W-S-M about 12 years ago when ScrappyDoo was little. We had been walking around a lot and he was getting tired. I had bought a few things and was carrying them with me in bags. He wanted a toy from a shop. It was quite big so I bought it on the proviso that he carried it back to the car himself. He said "but I'm tired, can you carry me" to which I replied "I can only carry one extra thing. It's either you or the toy". I fully expected him to carry the toy all the way back to the car rather than put it back on the shelf. He stood there for a while and I'll never forget his reply. "Dad, you carry me and I'll carry the toy". Kids logic, eh? Smart kid!
|
|
|
Post by paulpirate on Feb 4, 2018 12:07:19 GMT
Claire is ace. The others..... well the less said the better.... And she has really nice nails😊 hands or feet
|
|
|
Post by Officer Barbrady on Feb 4, 2018 12:13:30 GMT
And she has really nice nails😊 hands or feet neither, she’s a part time carpenter.
|
|
|
Post by knowall on Feb 4, 2018 14:26:29 GMT
The only one I know is don’t stand too close to the edge of the platform when the Express comes through - or you’ll get sucked off. Good to know It was Douglas Adams it turns out and it goes like this: This actually did happen to a real person, and the real person is me. I had gone to catch a train. This was April 1976, in Cambridge, U.K. I was a bit early for the train. I’d gotten the time of the train wrong. I went to get myself a newspaper to do the crossword, and a cup of coffee and a packet of cookies. I went and sat at a table. I want you to picture the scene. It’s very important that you get this very clear in your mind. Here’s the table, newspaper, cup of coffee, packet of cookies. There’s a guy sitting opposite me, perfectly ordinary-looking guy wearing a business suit, carrying a briefcase. It didn’t look like he was going to do anything weird. What he did was this: he suddenly leaned across, picked up the packet of cookies, tore it open, took one out, and ate it. Now this, I have to say, is the sort of thing the British are very bad at dealing with. There’s nothing in our background, upbringing, or education that teaches you how to deal with someone who in broad daylight has just stolen your cookies. You know what would happen if this had been South Central Los Angeles. There would have very quickly been gunfire, helicopters coming in, CNN, you know… But in the end, I did what any red-blooded Englishman would do: I ignored it. And I stared at the newspaper, took a sip of coffee, tried to do aclue in the newspaper, couldn’t do anything, and thought, What am I going to do? In the end I thought Nothing for it, I’ll just have to go for it, and I tried very hard not to notice the fact that the packet was already mysteriously opened. I took out a cookie for myself. I thought, That settled him. But it hadn’t because a moment or two later he did it again. He took another cookie. Having not mentioned it the first time, it was somehow even harder to raise the subject the second time around. “Excuse me, I couldn’t help but notice…” I mean, it doesn’t really work. We went through the whole packet like this. When I say the whole packet, I mean there were only about eight cookies, but it felt like a lifetime. He took one, I took one, he took one, I took one. Finally, when we got to the end, he stood up and walked away. Well, we exchanged meaningful looks, then he walked away, and I breathed a sigh of relief and st back. A moment or two later the train was coming in, so I tossed back the rest of my coffee, stood up, picked up the newspaper, and underneath the newspaper were my cookies. The thing I like particularly about this story is the sensation that somewhere in England there has been wandering around for the last quarter-century a perfectly ordinary guy who’s had the same exact story, only he doesn’t have the punch line. Superb, had me laughing out loud -
|
|
|
Post by lpgas on Feb 4, 2018 14:58:56 GMT
My dad had a red escort, one day he went out with my mum shopping and couldn't understand why he couldn't open the car door and was thinking he would break the window to get in. fortunately the owner of this car turned up, Dads car was in another car park
|
|
|
Post by banjogas on Feb 4, 2018 22:23:04 GMT
The Ticket Office and shop are in keeping with the rag bag tag, Old timers love it though!
In the shop especially the staff are terribly rude, and the fact away ticket sales are still not online proves how backwards the system is.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Feb 4, 2018 22:28:53 GMT
The Ticket Office and shop are in keeping with the rag bag tag, Old timers love it though! In the shop especially the staff are terribly rude, and the fact away ticket sales are still not online proves how backwards the system is. Bit of night time fishing eh. Always found the ladies in the shop to be very good myself.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Feb 4, 2018 23:10:37 GMT
The Ticket Office and shop are in keeping with the rag bag tag, Old timers love it though! In the shop especially the staff are terribly rude, and the fact away ticket sales are still not online proves how backwards the system is. I dont agree,ive always found them very helpful.
|
|
|
Post by helpliner on Feb 5, 2018 17:08:31 GMT
Anyone know what she drinks I might buy her a bottle for saving the day Just for the record she doesn't drink but does eat chocolates. Also she doesn't spell her name with an "i".
|
|
|
Post by Midsomer Murderer on Feb 5, 2018 18:11:22 GMT
Anyone know what she drinks I might buy her a bottle for saving the day Natch
|
|
|
Post by paulpirate on Feb 5, 2018 18:18:13 GMT
Anyone know what she drinks I might buy her a bottle for saving the day Just for the record she doesn't drink but does eat chocolates. Also she doesn't spell her name with an "i". creme egg it is then
|
|
|
Post by romangas on Feb 6, 2018 21:52:44 GMT
...bearing in mind she must be on the phone all the time , whenever I call for away tickets she is always helpful. Nice manner and good mood. Let's hear it for Claire...
|
|