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Bloody shopping

Well done. Another similar 'pc faux pas' that I have found to be amusing is to go into the early learning centre, pick the leftiest looking twat of an assistant you can find, and ask where the toy guns and rambo knives are. Got me banned from one in Swindon...

If they simply say 'oh we don't carry such horrid items', ask where the lego is, 'cos your kid could make a good one out of that' - that really annoys them.
 
k13eod said:
Being an amputee, getting out of shopping trips is easy; I just claim that the leg is giving me pain or the prosthesis is not fitting well.

So, to avoid future shopping expeditions, simply saw off one of your legs.

Hope that helps,

K13 :wink:

No disrespect intended K13...but it brought a smile thinking of the Black Knight a la Monty Python..... :lol:
 
Shopping............

I have a theory that the inner circle of Hades for blokes is now actually a huge shopping mall full of tormented souls wandering aimlessly about led by she-demons who ask pointless questions about objects that mean nothing to them. Imagine being suffocated by boredom in an airless space full of chavs. Forever.

So one day I was dragged into such a place for the express purpose of signing off on The New Set of Curtains for The House that she has been pratting about with for ages. I do not care about curtains. I never will care about curtains. The idiot woman in the shop soon began to sense that here was a man who would prefer to kill her with a blunt instrument or even destroy the world rather than look at one more swatch of curtain material.

As that dull pressure of silent hate built behind my eyes and I adopted the dead fish face, in the distance a little voice in my head said:

"She knows you hate this. She knows you are prone to go off like a demo charge after more than an hour of shopping for sh1t. So why are you here?"

And the little light came on.

"How much is all this?" I grated out in a voice that I had not heard for a while.

The woman in the shop took a deep breath and gushed about special offers, free fitting, half price lining, discount on tracks, quality of the material, labour involved et, etc, etc.

"How much?" the voice that was not mine said.

"£5500"

I know I said something. I know it went silent in the shop. I know Mrs B. said nothing for rather a long time after. In the legends of that shop I am known as That Dreadful Man.

And that is why you have to go shopping with a woman bent on nest building
 
You should have popped into Taylors, you could then have spent at least an hour oggling the ample totty behind the bar (especially the one with curly hair and big bazookas), that would have upset the misses enough to let you stay there while she finished the shopping alone :)

If you ever need to get away for an hour or two, PMme and I will join in aforementioned bar for beer and oggling :)
 
k13eod said:
Being an amputee, getting out of shopping trips is easy; I just claim that the leg is giving me pain or the prosthesis is not fitting well.

So, to avoid future shopping expeditions, simply saw off one of your legs.

Hope that helps,

K13 :wink:

i dont fancy losing a leg. Would the same work with a finger? I dont really use my rhand pinky.
 
arby said:
k13eod said:
Being an amputee, getting out of shopping trips is easy; I just claim that the leg is giving me pain or the prosthesis is not fitting well.

So, to avoid future shopping expeditions, simply saw off one of your legs.

Hope that helps,

K13 :wink:

i dont fancy losing a leg. Would the same work with a finger? I dont really use my rhand pinky.

Only works for a pinky if you walk on your hands arby. Besides I thought that you needed all your fingers for pinky fun at the pool :p
 
Take out a subscription to "Infant ******* Frenzy" (other specialist publications are available)
You'll be on the SOR and banned from Mothercare before you can say "I know she's very small and wears a nappy officer, but I thought she was an incontinent midget!".
 
Amateurs. Here’s the drill for ‘shopping’.

Spend 5 minutes wandering around with her, fantasising about which shop assistants you would beast, in which position and tied to which clothes rack.

Announce “I’ll see you in the pub pet” and decamp to pub.

Fantasise about which barmaids you would beast, in which positions and tied to which tables.

If she spends too much time farting about trying on 20 pairs of shoes then buying the ones she first tried, she knows you will be ratted so she keeps it short. Or you get ratted. Sorted.
 
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