I made a 'whooo oooo ooo oo' type scary noise at Derek Acorah outside John Lennon Airport at 8 in the morning, the cunt looked straight through me but went bright red when my pal called him a 'fooking queer' for wheeling a garish purple case behind him.
Boozing the night before a run in the hopes that the subsequent hangover will be so painful I will be motivated to run faster just to get a chance to sit down therefore improving my previous time.
I always loved waiting until the doors on the tube were about to close and then let the nastiest arse-ripping fart out ever and legging it off the tube as the doors shut. Leaving it like a tube of dying smarties
my boss was offering me a lift home after a late shift, got all the way to the car park and he'd forgotten some paperwork, he waddled back up to get it so i pissed up the drivers side door making sure i gave the handle a healthy wash and then standing there with him tut-tuting over what sort of social degenrate would do something like that and how it might be a good idea to park closer to the building
best bit was he tried to open it before noticing his hand was wet
When out in an expensive restaurant.... the type that charges £15-00 just to sniff the Menu Card.... I like going into the Gents bg for a dump.... then shoving as many of the bog rolls down around U-Bend with the bog brush and tamping them in like loading an old cannon. The I pulls the flush and watch it overflowing..... then leg it and hope the next poor sod who takes a dump and flushes get his pants wet ..... soooooooooooo childish. I was reprimanded by someone years ago after regaling folks by what I did..... I was told off, that I needed psychiatric help......
Many moons ago, when much younger, and very pished once... I was in the pub... can't remember where... I went for a dump... no erse-paper... so I took my vest off and used that.... then rammed it down around the U-bend.... It had the same effect.... blocked the bog completely... must have meant the Landlord had an expensive call-out for a Plumber.... The bugger banned from the Pub soon after that... but not for what I did to his bog.... but for being an annoying drunk prat.....
Happy days.... I still chortle about it..... maybe I do need help..... ahaha... maybe I still need arrselutions from the Forum Vicar
Friend of ours orders a steak down at the corner restaurant. Food comes in and apparently he doesn't like it (a little overcooked I suppose.) He decides to send it back to the kitchen. We implore him. Beg him. Literally go down on bended knees asking him not to. One of my buddies even offers to buy him another steak. He is adamant. So we shrug our shoulders and watch him call over the waitress, say something to the effect of "get it right next time" and promptly sends her packing back to the kitchen.
His new steak arrives and he proceeds to dispatch of it while we watch in horrified silence.
An hour or so later he is having assquakes so bad he stays on the squat for several days and is so deathly pale we think he is going to die. Lesson: Never send your food back to the kitchen.
Whoever the cook was showed an admirable bout of immaturity.