Get your own back at those dreadful partys.

Following on from Wheel Chair Warriors questions about the best way to stitch-up a boring idiot at a party I remembered a certain party I went to about 3-4 years ago. There was a real cnut that ‘bothered’ my little circle of friends all evening. So we set out to exact revenge. I ended up writing him a letter which I have pasted below. It tells the full story and might give you all some ideas to make parties flow a little better. Its quite long so bear with it…….

What defines a person you may ask? Within this day and age our fellow humans are
increasingly defined by the job they do, the house they have and the car in which
they drive. Well hooray for them that’s what I say. To every common rule or perception there is an exception, the exception in this case is the author. I don’t deal in run of the mill human social conditioning and that’s the deal. So what’s the point of bringing attention to this ‘exception’ I know you are asking yourself this at this very moment, so I will seek to enlighten you.

One day the phone rings, this in itself is not unusual a phone as you know is an essential tool for the aiding of conversation, which as you also know is a two-way exchange of views or facts. On the other end of the phone was a friend who I now know to be also friend of your wife. So the date was set and the party was attended. It always seems to be the same, I go to a party and invariably I somehow manage to get myself cornered by a boring idiot that thinks that I am interested in hearing about the size of their mortgage.

This person took the opportunity to bleat on and on about his latest pay rise and the last holiday that he had taken to some warmer and more expensive part of the world that only seems to be fashionable with boring people across the land who like the sound of their own booming voices. It was all to impress when in reality he was into the bank for major loans and on top of that he probably owns less of his house than I do of mine. We won’t bother how I know this at this moment, but I do. The car he drives is a company car. He used this as an excuse to moan about the amount of tax that he has to pay to maintain this privilege. What he did not realise that everyone within earshot of his booming voice were thinking ”Wise up you Cretin, no one cares”

I am afraid to inform you that you *ARE* one of these people that bores everyone with this crap at parties. In fact you are the idiot mentioned above. I know what you are now thinking "It's only sour grapes, he only wants what I have got" Well I have got news for you; I don't care what you think. You go on and on about what you are going to do and when you are going to do it, here is some more news. I have already done it, so bollocks to you.

All this does sound familiar right? That's because it is right, it's you with your mock Georgian Barrett home and BMW on the driveway, yes I have seen it. Your house is not as big as you describe. Mr Straight that's you and you know the worse thing, the thing that really gets up your nose? It's the fact that you know I am right. So next time you want to stand and peer down your nose at someone and look at them as if they were a lump of crap stuck to the sole of your discount store shoe, think again they may have seen straight through you. (Yes I noticed the Brantano price label that you had left on the bottom of the sole when you sat down to dinner.) This I found rather amusing when I overheard you bragging that you get your shoes handmade at some swanky London shoe fitters.

Your suit was from Debenhams not Saville Row. Tip: Don't put you car keys in
the pocket as the weight will make the bottom of the suit swing out to reveal the label on the inside of the breast pocket when you turn round sharply. Your wallet was also in this pocket.

Don’t wear socks that have that stupid triangular pattern on the side of them, it reminds people of batternburg cake, which is not nice. And if you must do this do make sure that they are a matching pair.

The glass of wine I got you, the one you thought was the very expensive
Château Neuf du Pape. You know the bottle that you made a big scene about
just to make sure everyone noticed you bringing it in. Well it was a glass
of cheap plonk that I found lying around with an added special ingredient. I particularly enjoyed listening to you say how fine the wine was and that life was too short to drink cheap wine (again in your rather tiring booming voice) You were right, my friends and I really enjoyed the expensive one.

Your Rolex that you made such a big show about I am afraid is fake, on a real Rolex the hands sweep in one fluid motion not tick with the seconds like the £100 bits of rubbish that you can buy from the peddlers that hang around in the car parks of motorway service stations. You know the ones that start with that line “I am a salesman for Rolex and I have some samples that I don’t want to take back to Switzerland” whilst proffering the Rolex catalogue. I must admit they look very realistic. But it takes a real Pratt to fall for an old trick like that.

This fish slice is not for buttering your roll at dinner. That is just bad manners.

The woman that you were trying to impress with your tales of being an international business man later told me that you were a lecherous old Git that tried it on with her when your wife's back was turned. Your wife deserves better. Perhaps keeping your hands to yourself in future might be in order. If you do it again to her she will put her very expensive heel down your instep as she knows a few tricks like that. Her shoes actually cost more than your fake ‘Rolex’ as you are impressed by facts like that. The lady in question is a friend of mine. Remember that.

Your wife is very nice and charming. You were only there because she was invited. I really do not know how she puts up with you. She must be a saint.

You must by now have worked out the whole point of this letter. The reason? You are a pompous bore that seems to be trying to live a social step higher than the one he can actually afford. In short you are a show off and a social bully. Don’t insult people when they think they are not listening. I had more friends there than you. What gets round comes round. Get that? Or do I need to say it all again? Everybody at the party said you were a complete idiot, you were only not told because it would have ruined the party even more so than you personally had achieved already.

You may be wondering how I got your email address as well as your home address, your work email and your computer passwords. Well fat boy I will enlighten you to some of the points. Don’t leave your wallet unattended and your passwords on a bit of paper saying “passwords” on it. You may wish to install a firewall sometime and download the security patches for Windows 2000. Does your wife know you like to collect pictures of Asian women that are involved in sexual acts on your hard drive? Thought you had erased them did you?…. They are still there. You don’t know much about security in regards to your ADSL connection do you?. I have a lot of clever friends that were happy to help. Which leads me to my next point don't underestimate people that you look down on, you might get a surprise. You might now have an idea as to the group I was in at that party. Picked the wrong party and the wrong people it seems.

So I would suggest that you stop seeing the woman you call J**** behind your lovely wife’s back and start behaving yourself. A lot of eyes are looking at you. So yes, the answer is I don’t like you and neither do my friends or the friends of your wife.

What now? I would suggest you just go away. Don’t let the door hit you on your fat arse on the way out. Have a nice day.


That is the most insulting letter I have ever read. Lympstone MW, You my friend are a god and a hero. Three cheers for the man :D
Conicus_Maximus said:
Tip. Top. :p

Are there any further installments to this story? Did he take your advice?

He was remembered by his absence the year after that letter went out. It seemed he had something more important to do than come and do ‘small talk’ with us the next Christmas.

The latest information that came my way was that his wife had recently kicked the “boring old buffoon” out. Seems like she found out about his nocturnal activities with his part time strumpet.

From what I heard, she stuffed his car with all his belongings and locked him out after bashing a stiletto shoe through the speaker cones of his very expensive LINN stereo system which was apparently his pride and joy.

I will find out more next week.
I get my revenge by actually going to the party, drinking all the good grog and then farting.


FCUK me what a blinder, I’d be well upset if something like that came my. Maybe you have helped him change his ways by giving him this reality pill.

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Cuddles said:
I get my revenge by actually going to the party, drinking all the good grog and then farting.

.. and how do you then get your revenge
Beyond excellent, inspired genius.
Next time I hear a reference to" don`t get mad get even", there should be a link to this .
Lympstone_Mud_Warbler said:
From what I heard, she stuffed his car with all his belongings and locked him out after bashing a stiletto shoe through the speaker cones of his very expensive LINN stereo system which was apparently his pride and joy.

*whimper* now that's just wasteful. I'm biased, I once worked for Linn (yes, unbelievably cheap staff purchase schemes are a good idea, it's the only way I'd afford one of their systems).

Selling it for a tenner on E-bay or the local yellow paper, that's much more like it. Trade it in at the local Charity shop for a broken old Amstrad, perhaps...


Book Reviewer
What pure and utter class.

Sir I salute you!
BaldricksBullet said:
Hold on a minute... I thought when I started reading this thread... you sent him a letter? That's just a step from shouting through his letterbox. Not normal squaddie problem solving behaviour.

... but as letters go... Cracking! Probably worked a thousand times better than a punch in the gob. So I'm a tinsy bit awed.

Cheers I know where you are coming from, a punch in the gob always offends, but is soon forgotten in the scheme of things. It effectively puts a full stop on the end of any disagreement. Very satisfying though!

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