Slightly selfish or full blown jack bast*rd stunts

ugly

LE
Moderator
We've all done it at one time or another, my favourite when newly married with two ankle biters was to turn up at weddings and funerals in our slightly knackered Metro with noisy gearbox primary bearings (knowing it would make the journey) and plan the day around being recovered home on the very nice mans truck and filling up on free drinks at the hatch, match or despatch.
What's your guilty secret?
 
A few years back I built a workshop for a friend of my boss, my boss was paying my salary and come the opening day my wife said we were not invited to the dinner. I replied I do not need an invite and off I went to the dinner. I headed for the top table with all the business partners seated and not a spare seat in site.

Both bosses jumped up and started to organise me a seat at the top table but I replied nay its ok Ill sit with the workers at the back, feckk me the guilty look on their faces was amusing. And sure enough one of the partners was dispatched to sit at a table with the workers giving me his seat, twas rather cheeky of me but they got polite revenge.

I was asked to get up on stage and give a speech to the audience about the new company and both bosses grinned to themselves, but what they did not know was I had given these speeches before for a much larger companies, in fact the number 1 and 2 companies in China in this field.

All of the partners were ex PLA Officers, so after a short speech I hit them with typical soldier humour and three times went to leave the stage and three times was dragged back up to carry on. I challenged all of the ex PLA officers to come up on stage and give their funniest stories from their time in the forces ( some were pilots and some were army, and some were Navy) it was the funniest afternoon we had all spent.

We then retired to a private dining room to get pissed and swing the lantern of soldier stories. We then went on to a Karoke place to continue the fun with ladies. I was sent home with a driver pissed out of my tree. Workers carried me to my appartment and I awoke the next morning to a room full of German Beer, Crates of French wine, Chinese wine and boxes of gifts, also one pissed off wife who said OK what happened???????????????
 
Queens silver Jubilee in Germany and I was attached to the QRIH, we had the tented area next to the unit where the Queen was being entertained and a pissy afternoon it was too. I ended up walking down the Tank road with a free box of wine.

Car pulls up and it was Maj RJ the then 2 ic of the Regiment, get in Cpl E he says, of course I was half pissed but tried very very hard to keep a straight face.

Next morning I get a call from the RSM to come and see him, upon arrival I was marched into RJs office and told the wine I was carrying was not exactly meant to be that free and asked to donate the cost to PRI. He grinned and so did I and promptly said yes sir. He said OK now go and take my dog for a walk as he needs to pee, OK sir said I realising I just escaped a theft charge and what a gent he was.
 
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I managed to dodge a cousin's wedding by claiming that August was a no-leave period in Germany because of the big NATO summer exercises.
 

The_Snail

ADC
RIP
Jajce 1996. Word had come through from the Families Office that the wifeys* were all putting together Christmas boxes for their hard-working soldiers.

One of the chefs - let's call him Woody (for that was his name) got really excited about this. "Ooh. I wonder what she's going to put in there for me. I hope it's <<insert something really dull>>".

The days go by, and EVERY day, at unofficial Tea and Toast in the cookhouse while the big boys were at Prayers, young Woody is asking Debbie the Posty "Is there a parcel for me? Is there a parcel for me?".

More days go by. "Is there a parcel for me? Is there a parcel for me?" By this stage, nearly everyone else had got their grotbox, less him, so we decided to cheer him up a bit until his real parcel got there.

1. Procure a big ole empty box.
2. Fill it with utter utter shite. Scrunched up newspapers, the bits out of the hole punch, apple cores, half eaten biscuits, the insides of party poppers - you get the idea.
3. Put one of the random Christmas cards from Mr and Mrs Miggins in Weymouth inside the box and seal it up.
4. Address it to "Woody the Chef Sanski Most".
5. Cross out "Sanski Most" write "Not Sanski Most, try Banja Luka".
6. Cross out "Banja Luka" write "Not Banja Luka, try Kupres".
7. Cross out "Kupres" write "Not Kupres, try Jajce"

Tea and toast the next day, before he could even ask the usual question, Debs brings his "parcel" into the cookhouse. "Is that for me? Is that for me?" His little face was beaming. "Told you she'd sent me something. I f*cking told you". Out comes his pliers in his pocket (Leatherman), and he opens the box - looking like he's going to burst with excitement.

First layer - the Christmas card. A little smidge of confusion passes onto his face.
Second layer - He's got no idea what's going on now. There's stinky half-fermented apples and orange peel, and 3 girls sitting opposite him, pissing themselves laughing.

"You f*cking bitches".

He forgave us. Eventually. When his parcel did actually turn up, it wasn't as interesting as ours was anyway.


*And husbands. I got a Nottingham Forest t-shirt, the Paul and Pauline Calf video, and a bottle of Lenor. 2 out of 3 ain't bad.
 
I managed to dodge a cousin's wedding by claiming that August was a no-leave period in Germany because of the big NATO summer exercises.
Weddings?? Oh that is one big subject for me. Married the first wife at RAF Wildenrath on the German/Dutch border and all was organised, guests etc. But during the ceremony my older brother who lived in Holland turned up uninvited. He and his drug dealer friend, scratch that, cadillac driver were half pissed, I do love him the ex RA para nut case.

The barstuards only painted the roof on an expensive 3 Litre Capri which could not be errased cousing expensive repairs, but then tied 300 beer cans to the back of the car, I then had to drive to Bavaria with them following me to stop me taking the cans off. But a good piss up was had by all on arrival, and the prat that tied cow bells to the bed is still being sought.
 

Sttrory

Old-Salt
Jajce 1996. Word had come through from the Families Office that the wifeys* were all putting together Christmas boxes for their hard-working soldiers.

One of the chefs - let's call him Woody (for that was his name) got really excited about this. "Ooh. I wonder what she's going to put in there for me. I hope it's <<insert something really dull>>".

The days go by, and EVERY day, at unofficial Tea and Toast in the cookhouse while the big boys were at Prayers, young Woody is asking Debbie the Posty "Is there a parcel for me? Is there a parcel for me?".

More days go by. "Is there a parcel for me? Is there a parcel for me?" By this stage, nearly everyone else had got their grotbox, less him, so we decided to cheer him up a bit until his real parcel got there.

1. Procure a big ole empty box.
2. Fill it with utter utter shite. Scrunched up newspapers, the bits out of the hole punch, apple cores, half eaten biscuits, the insides of party poppers - you get the idea.
3. Put one of the random Christmas cards from Mr and Mrs Miggins in Weymouth inside the box and seal it up.
4. Address it to "Woody the Chef Sanski Most".
5. Cross out "Sanski Most" write "Not Sanski Most, try Banja Luka".
6. Cross out "Banja Luka" write "Not Banja Luka, try Kupres".
7. Cross out "Kupres" write "Not Kupres, try Jajce"

Tea and toast the next day, before he could even ask the usual question, Debs brings his "parcel" into the cookhouse. "Is that for me? Is that for me?" His little face was beaming. "Told you she'd sent me something. I f*cking told you". Out comes his pliers in his pocket (Leatherman), and he opens the box - looking like he's going to burst with excitement.

First layer - the Christmas card. A little smidge of confusion passes onto his face.
Second layer - He's got no idea what's going on now. There's stinky half-fermented apples and orange peel, and 3 girls sitting opposite him, pissing themselves laughing.

"You f*cking bitches".

He forgave us. Eventually. When his parcel did actually turn up, it wasn't as interesting as ours was anyway.


*And husbands. I got a Nottingham Forest t-shirt, the Paul and Pauline Calf video, and a bottle of Lenor. 2 out of 3 ain't bad.
Photo of you in forest top or never happened ;):-D
 
I had an arrangement where I used to drive the RBL mini bus down to Goodwood races from West London every year. One of the other guys used to drive it back. I also started courting a girl who as it turned out became my wife later on in life.

At the time though shortly after we had just met. The guys asked me that particular year if I would drive the RBL mini bus to Goodwood and also back to West London because the other guy who usually drove it back wasn't going that year. I agreed and later thought, if I can't have a beer, I might as well take the then new GF with me and at least have some non pissed company for the day.

When I mentioned to the organiser that I wanted to bring her, I was told sorry mate, no way. It's a lad's day out and strictly no women! It was nonsense because these were mostly middle-aged blokes who were just going to the races for a few bets and a couple of beers. The day out wasn't anything extraordinary that could be or should be classed as what goes on at the races stay’s at the races.

So on the day, I deliberately didn't turn up.

I don't know to this day if they got there or not on that day but I've been married to the girl now for 36 years.
 
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1&12

LE
I managed to dodge a cousin's wedding by claiming that August was a no-leave period in Germany because of the big NATO summer exercises.
I did similar to avoid 3 weeks freebie in a villa on the Algarve with wife, her parents and her brothers and their wives and rugrats, celebrating the parents umpteenth anniversary. No way in hell was I going, told them (lied) that I couldn't get the leave authorised.
By next celebratory worthy in-laws anniversary wife and I were separated pending divorce so I didn't get an invite to 3 weeks in Florida and St Lucia, but wife made sure I paid by emptying the joint account of my entire months pay as soon as it went in and overdrawing a similar amount as holiday pocket money.
 

The_Snail

ADC
RIP
Photo of you in forest top or never happened ;):-D
It's a time of my life I'd rather forget. I was so glad to put my Liverpool shirt back on. Which reminds me of something else, but I don't know if it falls into any of the categories in the thread title.

TELIC 2, Shatt al Arab Hotel. LFC had very kindly sent out some old strips for us to give to the local youths. Not quite ALL of it was distributed.

lfcshirt.JPG

lfcshorts.JPG


No idea who "GC" was, but they're mine now. Kingo'd from the Kingos.
 
I did similar to avoid 3 weeks freebie in a villa on the Algarve with wife, her parents and her brothers and their wives and rugrats, celebrating the parents umpteenth anniversary. No way in hell was I going, told them (lied) that I couldn't get the leave authorised.
By next celebratory worthy in-laws anniversary wife and I were separated pending divorce so I didn't get an invite to 3 weeks in Florida and St Lucia, but wife made sure I paid by emptying the joint account of my entire months pay as soon as it went in and overdrawing a similar amount as holiday pocket money.

Separated but she still had access to your beer tokens?.......WTF is wrong with you?
 

Stumpy4154

LE
Book Reviewer
By next celebratory worthy in-laws anniversary wife and I were separated pending divorce so I didn't get an invite to 3 weeks in Florida and St Lucia, but wife made sure I paid by emptying the joint account of my entire months pay as soon as it went in and overdrawing a similar amount as holiday pocket money.
Bad drills, slack skills. :rolleyes:
 

1&12

LE
Separated but she still had access to your beer tokens?.......WTF is wrong with you?
Yeah, I know, I'm just too nice. Took time to separate accounts. Common sense says seperate finances asap, but if she makes sure your kids are always present when you meet and mummy always gets tearful when the subject's broached you continually retire, regroup and put it off till next time.
Then you retire, regroup and put it off till next time ad nauseum till you can finally sort it outaway from the sprogs.
 

Stumpy4154

LE
Book Reviewer
Yeah, I know, I'm just too nice. Took time to separate accounts. Common sense says seperate finances asap, but if she makes sure your kids are always present when you meet and mummy always gets tearful when the subject's broached you continually retire, regroup and put it off till next time.
Then you retire, regroup and put it off till next time ad nauseum till you can finally sort it outaway from the sprogs.
Slack as a yak.
Fair do's, thankfully never been in that situation, just a bit of piss taking.
 

1&12

LE
No problem at all, this is Arrse after all, not an agony aunts.
 

Stumpy4154

LE
Book Reviewer

1&12

LE
That's better, back to normality, I was getting a bit worried there, thought this must be that mumsnet thing.
 
A few years back I built a workshop for a friend of my boss, my boss was paying my salary and come the opening day my wife said we were not invited to the dinner. I replied I do not need an invite and off I went to the dinner. I headed for the top table with all the business partners seated and not a spare seat in site.
Priceless! :D
I'll be trying to piece together really toxic & acerbic short speech sometime soon.
I only ask as (perhaps) next year will see SWMBO & I at the Wedding from Hell, at least potentially. Any pointers most welcome.

Our lad's in fact. It looks like he will be getting hooked to a OK sort ( Long haul Trolley Dolly)
In 4.5 years, we have met twice/ three times maybe for a few hours so we don't know her and have never spoken or met the family which owns a lot of a Scots island together with businesses therein. In short they are loaded and boy do they know it. Potential M-in-L has made it her mission to split them for years...she seems a complete cnut to the extent the whole of the local community knows her possible S-in-L "only" comes from council house background...you get it I'm sure. This is actually confirmed by said trolley dolly..so fair one.

As our kid puts it their heads are all so far up their arses they give themselves a daily shit shampoo. Future M-in-L has, it seems, no time for our kid on the premise that he simply calls it as he sees it..which he does...and has put her in her place a few times so there's a great recipe for future harmony!
So, there we have it....myself & SWMBO on a fekkin' island for a mega prestige event both "our kid" and we can see far enough. As soon as the bride & groom depart..so will we. That's a given. It will give me the greatest pleasure, once the kids are jetting off somewhere...to let it rip in open (reception) forum and deal with Cnut 1 before we go. It'd be rude not to.
 
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Joker62

ADC
Book Reviewer
Yeah, I know, I'm just too nice. Took time to separate accounts. Common sense says seperate finances asap, but if she makes sure your kids are always present when you meet and mummy always gets tearful when the subject's broached you continually retire, regroup and put it off till next time.
Then you retire, regroup and put it off till next time ad nauseum till you can finally sort it outaway from the sprogs.
By which time, you're poorer than a church mouse because she's robbed you blind!
 

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