The Book of Blogic

Personality Test - VALS

2006-10-05T11:28:00.000-07:00

The Values, Attitudes and Lifestyles Test (VALS)

Your primary VALS type is Maker, and your secondary type is Achiever.

The primary VALS type represents your dominant approach to life.

The secondary classification represents a particular emphasis you give to your dominant approach.

Primary Type : Maker
Like Experiencers, Makers are motivated by self-expression. They express themselves and experience the world by working on it-building a house, raising children, fixing a car, or canning vegetables-and have enough skill and energy to carry out their projects successfully. Makers are practical people who have constructive skills and value self-sufficiency. They live within a traditional context of family, practical work, and physical recreation and have little interest in what lies outside that context.Makers are suspicious of new ideas and large institutions such as big business. They are respectful of government authority and organized labor, but resentful of government intrusion on individual rights. They are unimpressed by material possessions other than those with a practical or functional purpose. Because they prefer value to luxury, they buy basic products

Secondary Type : Achiever
Motivated by the desire for achievement, Achievers have goal-oriented lifestyles and a deep commitment to career and family. Their social lives reflect this focus and are structured around family, their place of worship, and work. Achievers live conventional lives, are politically conservative, and respect authority and the status quo. They value consensus, predictability, and stability over risk, intimacy, and self-discovery.With many wants and needs, Achievers are active in the consumer marketplace. Image is important to Achievers; they favor established, prestige products and services that demonstrate success to their peers. Because of their busy lives, they are often interested in a variety of time-saving devices.

Erm... kinda conflicted...

Personality Test - The Colour Test (they spell it wrong)

2006-10-05T11:15:00.000-07:00

OK then... The Colour Personality Test

Easy- pick 8 colours in any order you feel like... twice. Thats it

Your Existing Situation
Needs warm companionship, but is intolerant of anything short of special consideration from those close to him. If this is not forthcoming, is liable to shut himself away from them.

Your Stress Sources
Delights in the tasteful, the gracious, and the sensitive, but maintains his attitude of critical appraisal and refuses to be swept off his feet unless genuineness and integrity can be absolutely vouched for. Therefore keeps a strict and watchful control on his emotional relationships as he must know exactly where he stands. Demands complete sincerity as a protection against his own tendency to be too trusting.

Your Restrained Characteristics
Trying to calm down and unwind after a period of over-agitation which has left him listless and devoid of energy. In need of peace and quiet; becomes irritable if this is denied him.Very exacting in the standards he applies to his choice of a partner and seeking a rather unrealistic perfection in his sex life.

Your Desired Objective
Feels the existing circumstances are hostile and is exhausted by conflict and quarreling. Wishes to protect himself and hides his intentions to avoid exposing them to attack, so that they will be safer and easier to achieve. Careful to avoid stirring up any opposition which might endanger his plans.

Your Actual Problem
Needs to protect himself against his tendency to be too trusting, as he finds it is liable to be misunderstood or exploited by others. As a result, he adopts a critical and stand-offish attitude, being willing to participate only where he can be assured of sincerity and trustworthiness.

Interesting...

Personality Tests - How accurate are they? - You Decide

2006-09-21T15:04:00.000-07:00

Your Five Factor Personality Profile

Extroversion:
You have medium extroversion.You're not the life of the party, but you do show up for the party.Sometimes you are full of energy and open to new social experiences.But you also need to hibernate and enjoy your "down time."

Conscientiousness:
You have high conscientiousness.Intelligent and reliable, you tend to succeed in life.Most things in your life are organized and planned well.But you borderline on being a total perfectionist.

Agreeableness:
You have medium agreeableness.You're generally a friendly and trusting person.But you also have a healthy dose of cynicism.You get along well with others, as long as they play fair.

Neuroticism:
You have medium neuroticism.You're generally cool and collected, but sometimes you do panic.Little worries or problems can consume you, draining your energy.Your life is pretty smooth, but there's a few emotional bumps you'd like to get rid of.

Openness to experience:
Your openness to new experiences is high.In life, you tend to be an early adopter of all new things and ideas.You'll try almost anything interesting, and you're constantly pushing your own limits.A great connoisseir of art and beauty, you can find the positive side of almost anything..

The Five Factor Personality Test

Hmm Not bad...

I'll post some others soon

Working over Christmas again!!

2005-12-23T02:08:00.000-08:00

God are we suckers or wot...

JINGLE BELLS

(me)
Jingle Bells
Christmas Hell
Bankruptcy on the way
Is not as fun
As sitting in the sun
With naked ladies making hay -hey!

(ArTcH)
Jungle bells
Fuck can't spell
Must have had a drink
Then again
I hated school
And now I'm on the brink, yeah!

(Dannyboy)
Shit shit shit
fuck fuck fuck
coming home tonight
can't get time to see you all
and then I'm on a flight *

OH CHRISTMAS TREE

(Me)
O Bugger me
O Bugger me
I forgot to get the wife's present
She's probably going to kill me
And stuff me like a pheasant
Its not my fault, that I forgot
I spent my cash, on booze and pot
O bugger me
O bugger me
I forgot to get the wifes present.

SILENT NIGHT

(Me)
Silent Night
Its alright
Don’t be Soft
Have a fight
Talk of virgins makes me really hot
Remembering all of the girls I forgot
I cant quite remember them all
Bu-ut I ha-ad a balll...

(ArTcH)
Sensual night
oh what a sight
Lingerie
and ravishry
Pass me the sashes
and batteries
It's time to replenish
the toys which we tease
Oh, what a heavenly bliss
Oh what a heavenly b-l-i-s-s

*edited to scan properly

Kiplianity - Fact or Lemon Fancy?

2005-12-12T03:06:00.000-08:00

Kiplianity – fact or Lemon Fancy?

One day, well - one morning really , EARLY one morning.. . actually – now I think about it – it was very very late one night in Diss, in another lifetime.

We were recovering from our late night excesses in the usual way – by continuing our late night excesses into early morning excesses and discussing (in our early morning stroky beardy put the world to rights kinda way) the ridiculousness which were the UK’s Sunday trading laws at the time.

Now, as you may or may not know – most laws everywhere have been handed down from religious tenet – and bastardised along the way to take into consideration modern people / thought instead of basing the rules on a shaky 2000 year old principle which was probably made up anyway

It went something like this

Scene: Smoky beer-can and bottle filled front room crammed with semi conscious ex biker types in their mid twenties. Mess and carnage everywhere – RATM playing pretty quietly in the background.

#1: “Bugger I’m Hungry”

#2: “yeah me too – I could murder a fry up”

#3: “Tch – fat chance – a) we’re in the middle of bumfucknowheresville and b) its Sunday “

#1: “Fucking Sunday”

#2: “So? – isn’t there a shop we can get stuff from if there isn’t any greasy spoons open?”

#3: “hahaha – nope because a) we’re in the middle of bumfucknowheresville and b) its Sunday”

#1: “I hate Sunday trading laws they are so stupid”

#2: “what ARE the Sunday trading laws? – everyone keeps going on about them but I have no clue”

#1: “well, basically, because Sunday is supposed to be the day of rest according to the bible – shop owners are not supposed to sell anything which needs to be prepared before you can consume it”

#2: “eh? – What do you mean?”

#1: “Ferinstance – you can buy instant coffee, but you cant buy coffee beans”

#2: “Wot?!!”

#3: “Beans have to be ground before you can use them – which counts as preparing them”

#2: “That’s fucking stupid”

#3: “Yep”

#2: “What else does it cover?”

#1: “Well, you cant buy bacon, but you can buy ham”

#2: “WTF!”

#3: “Yep – you have to cook bacon – but ham is normally already cooked”

#2: “ffs – I’m starving”

#1: “me too”

#2: “what about cakes?”

#3: “Well, you can buy cakes, but you cant buy cake mix – if you look at the letter of the law anyway. Most shops ignore most of it though especially out here – I wouldn’t imagine they get many trading standards visitors checking what they sell on a Sunday”

#2: “that’s archaic for gods sake”

#1: “Precisely”

#2: “eh ?”

#1: “For gods sake – that’s what its all about – God – The bastard”

#2: “So your telling me – that I can go out and buy a KFC – but I cant buy a raw chicken? – Cos I have to prepare it first?”

#3: “Technically, and if KFC were open anywhere within 30 miles of where we are now - yes”

#4: (comes round from a semi-sleep daze) “so I cant, for instance, buy a gullible chicken? Or a Naïve tomatoe...”

Everyone else: “What?”

#4: “nor can I buy a wet-behind-the ears lettuce…”

Everyone else: “WHAT??!!!”

#4: “Well, neither of them are prepared are they?”

(groans, chuckles and cushions being thrown - #4 returns to a semi reclining stupor)

#2: “At least we can get cake - “God Bless Mr Kipling”

...Time Passes...

#2: “Remember those Kipling adverts?”

#1: “Yeah, what about them?

#2: “Well, you never actually SEE Mr Kipling do you…”

#3: “No.. not all of him – just his hand”

#2: “And no-one has ever actually ‘SEEN’ god have they – well not until they die – but we cant check that… haha”

#4: “Nope – top of the line ethereal being that one”

#2: “...and everyone has heard of “The Hand of God...”

#3: "yesss... (everyone knows somethign is coming at this point)

#2: “Hmmm…… and you can get cakes on a Sunday?

#1: “Yep – but you cant bake cakes on a Sunday...”

#2: “Right… and you only ever see Mr Kipling’s hand…"

#1: “Yeah – so?”

#2: “Mr Kipling is God then – stands to reason”

(uproarous laughter ensues)

#’4: “Didn’t he write the Jungle book?”

(More Laughter)

#4: “Blimey - Top bloke Mr Kipling. He’s God, God's hand, wrote The Bible AND The Jungle Book, and also makes exceedingly good cakes… I'm converted”

And Kiplianity was born*

*but also forgotten very quickly when the first person who went to the toilet screamed when their pee was bright green…apparently someone put blue food dye in the punch** the night before for a laugh

**Punch in this instance was a 20 litre oil tub (clean) with the contents of the booze cupboard and fridge poured into it - no ice.

Sh*y B****S

2005-11-25T01:54:00.000-08:00

Shitty Bastards, Pissy Shitty Bastards
Shitty Bastards, Pissy Shitty Bastards
Shitty Bastards, Pissy Shitty Bastards
Oh
You
Pissy Shitty Bastards
Pissy Shitty Bastards We Hate You
And
You
Pissy Shitty Bastards
Pissy Shitty Bastards Hate Us Too
Ex-Ning
In A Motor CarWill Prob'ly Drive Us Round The Bend
Bastards, Pissy Shitty Bastards
Refuse To Be Our Friends
Bastards Pissy Shitty Bastards
Refuse to Be Our Friends

Grief Week, gets you in the head
That’s right, because Kiran Said
"You're Moving to Exning - you scum"
"You're moving to nowheresville"
"I just cant believe its real"
"Do you know what you have done?"

Shitty Bastards, Pissy Shitty Bastards
Shitty Bastards, Pissy Shitty Bastards
Shitty Bastards, Pissy Shitty Bastards
Oh Shitty,
You Shitty,
Pissy Shitty Bastards
Pissy Shitty Bastards we hate you
And Shitty,
You Shitty,
Pissy Shitty Bastards
Pissy Shitty Bastards Hate us too
Ex-Ning
In A Motor CarWill Prob'ly Drive Us Round The Bend
Bastards, Pissy Shitty Bastards
Who used to be our friends
Bastards Pissy Shitty Bastards,
Who used to be our friends

Dianne Orrit or The Writ of 'Rit

2005-09-26T00:27:00.000-07:00

1) If the total of the 3 cards passed to you adds up to a face value of 10 or less - then the passer is most likely 'Rit.

2) Whoever passes the 2 of hearts is probably 'Rit

3) It is unusual for non-'Rit players to pass any spade other than the King or Ace

4)
i) Players detecting 'Rit are honour bound to take a hit for the team in an attempt to sabotage whoever is Dianne

ii) Extra kudos must be paid to the person who performs 'The Ultimate Stitch Up' - i.e. denying Dianne the Two of Hearts

5) If a single hand nets a player more than 110 points, then a bucket forfeit must be paid

6) Use smell to detect 'Rit-ness

7) Banter and baiting may also trap the unwary into revealing 'ritness

8) Beware ye the five of dyinarmonds!

9) You'd think it was safe.......................

Cilla

2005-04-12T02:33:00.000-07:00

Is norty..

(me)
There once was a lady called les
Whose eyesight was of very poor res. (olution)
She sat on her specs,
which shredded her kecks
And now her cheeks poke through the threads

(les)
There was a man called bobble
Who was scared things were starting to wobble
So he started keep fit
With a pair of fake tits
And discovered the joys of the jubble

Bob's favourite topic was breasts
He liked the big juicy ones best
He dreamt of big boobs
All covered in lube
When he woke up his sheets were all wet

(me)
Les is a young lass from up North
Whose Humour is really quite coarse
She photo'd her jugs
Which I'd like on a mug
But she wont send the original, of course..

(les)
My new favourite toy is a duck
It vibrates like a bloody big truck
It floats in the bath
And don't half make me laugh
Though it's not quite as good as a f***

(les)
there was a young lady called kirsty
who was always incredibly thirsty
she drunk so much coke
that she thought she would choke
but instead she just ended up bursting

(les)
there was a young man called bob jones
he was always incredibly s*****
when he got the munches
he'd eat cadbury's crunchie
he'd eat 50 bars all alone

Working Over Christmas

2005-04-12T02:05:00.000-07:00

IS boring as hell. Nobody else is at work except us idiots who have to go in. Every other respectable person getrs 2 weeks off, but god forbid that we do. What would the shareholders say?

Anyway - this is what we got up to last xmas whilst at work (Dec 2004) not in the absolute order - but best as I can remember it

(Thc3.2)
God rest ye merry Jingle Bells, let nothing ye dismay,
I've cut my wrists with credit cards, hip hip hip hip hooray.
And even though the snow is soft, it's a bloody shade of red
But they say I'm getting better in the head...in the head..
They say I'm getting better in the head

(me)
Now Listen boy, you dont fool us - you're still a raving loon
and even tho your 30+ you're still living at home
now hurry up lad, dont be soft, its time to sort it out
move out lad and start living alone, living alone
mooove out lad and start living alone

Monsignor Butster - He's a lad - he works for the 3rd reich
all my e-mails bounce right back saying "You're not very nice"
he cant be blamed its not his fault he works for phookin koontz
entertain us all with cunnning stunts, cunning stunts
entertain us all with cuuunning stunts

(MrButt)
I'm sat in this 'ere office, lads, it's really not much fun
I'd like to be away from here and sitting in the sun
With beer in hand and buxom maids All begging me for some
Of that wonderful Nicky Butt love, Nicky Butt love
Of that wonderful Nicky Butt love!

(Me)
Tims gone quiet, I think I may have pissed him off, oh deary me!
I didnt mean it, you should know its just some fun, "tee-hee!"
dont take it persnal, we're your mates, I'm sure you will agree
no ones a bigger piss-taker than me, piss taker than me
no-ones a bigger piss-taker than me..

(MrButt)
i think the reason that you have not heard back yet from our Tim
is that he likes to lie in bed and play with "little jim"
of course he could be out at the shops
and getting the sprouts in
but my money's on him still being in kip, being in kip
yes my money's on him still being in kip (unless he's not)

(me)
I know I'm tough, it cant be helped, I'm just a christmas grump,
Taking the piss out of tim tho, should not give him the hump
if he's asleep, he's just bone idle and deserves a thump,
to get his arse into gear, arse into gear
he needs to get his arse into gear

Dannyboy - he's such a c**t, he wont even take part,
he's doing work still, at his desk, o what a boring fart
his missus is a lovely lass who like to have a fight
they were fighting allll last night, all last night,
they were fighting and f**king last night

(Mr Butt)
hey come on bob, it's chrimble time, don't give him a hard time
just because young daniel here can't or won't write rhyme
he's such a blummin' busy chap
he has no time for play
he's got nicky's stocking to fill on christmas day

(Dannyboy)
c8nty c8nty c8nty c8nt
your mum your mum your mu-um
...

(Last Verse Courtesy of Mr Butt)
the shopping queues, the stressed out peeps all jostling in the rush
i wonder each and every year is it worth all the fuss
gorge yourself on food and booze and never mind the guff
just make sure you've got weed for christmas day, christmas day
just make sure you've got weed for christmas day...

I R An undercover agent

2004-08-13T12:22:00.000-07:00

Something mildly amusing happened the other day whilst a pal of mine (we'll call him 'Evil Chin Rack') was over...

We were chatting about a mutual friend (we'll call him 'vag man in blender land') of ours and Evil decided to give vag man a call. Now, I also wanted to talk to vag man, and I thought (in my way) that the most amusing time to speak to him would be to call him just as he had put his mobile down and started to walk away... for maximum annoyance value of course...

Anyway - just as Evil had put the phone down to vag man - I dialled the number I had in my phone, only to find that the number I had stored was diconnected. So, I asked evil to shout the number out whilst I inexpertly jabbed at the keypad with my drunken finger. Hit Dial.

The phone rings, and rings, and I'm sitting here thinking "Come on vag man, I know you're fucking there you bastard pick up the phone you cant ignore me!!!". Goes to voicemail. DAMMIT. I sez (quite loudly)

Cut to a few mintues later and I get a text.

"Sorry I missed your call but I've got no battery to talk. Who is this please?"

" Bastard" says I again "He fucking knows who this is he sent me a text the other day - I'll remind him.." So I sit here thinking of a way to make him work for it. I'm not going to give him my real name cos he's just being a git. So I use my nickname amongst our friends...and also the poker nickname of my wife as a clue to who it might be.

I decide to send hm a text which says

"Mr.Dobbalina & the Crusher!"

I wonder if he'll get it? I'm thinking.

The phone goes buzz buzz tring! - A new text...

" You what...."

haha thats so him....

As I sit there wondering about if he'll ring me back and stop being a nob, a thought
slowly pervades across my consciousness.

Have I hammered the number in properly?

Not thinking for a minute that I could have possibly got it wrong - I was then hitting the send button on my next message..

"is this vag man in blender land?"

No immediate answer.

Bugger. I'm now thinking that a complete stranger is sitting at the other end of this dialogue thinking " what the FUCKING hell is going on here...? - Who is this fucking loony?.

I was right.

buzz buzz tring!!

"sorry aint got time or money to waste on silly games with you"

Oops! Oh well, if anything its an amusing story to tell at work tomorrow. Either that or I accidentally called a security forces operative and we ar enow under surveillance for terrorist activity, by their clever interception of passwords and codenames and by this new psycholinguistic professor bloke they hired, they are now quietly confident that what they intercepted actually meant "blow stuff up today 3:30pm"... oh how we chuckled - and went about our evening.

Next day

Weird stuff happens on the wifes mobile phone. 4 'private number' calls to the handset - and every time the call was answered - it tried to go 'online' in a vodafone kind of way.

Cancel.

Odd...

Paranoid. what if it WAS the anti -terrorist squad - will they steal my fireworks?

Nah dont be soft - it was just a random blokey type bloke.

That evening

buzz buz tring!!

"who's that?"

hahahahahahah. excellent its either that bloke again, or his missus has grabbed his phone and found a new number on it and is trying to sus out if anything shifty is goingon behind her back. hahaha.

"its still Mr.Dobbalina & the crusher! Who are you? (apart fromthe wrong number i called last night)"

Hoping he's got a sense of humour now, and might just chuckle to himself and leave it at that. Or maybe a long and interesting dialogue would ensue with a complete stranger - which is actually quite interesting at times.

buzz buzz tring!

"You are either kev or dan.... Am I right."

Oh dear - now he's getting paranoid that his mates are trying to stitch him up with some kind of mental byplay. I better put him straight. At least its not his missus checking up on him.

For a moment though - I thought it still might be someone I know, because I know several dans and at least one kev - its not unreasonable considering the size of the circle of friends we are connected to here.. but ... really very unlikely.... shame really - that would have been funnier somehow...

"You are wrong my friend. It is you that shouuld be dan. I truly got a wrong number. Sorry an all that..."

S'funny ol world innit?

I'm going to send him this url - I hope he reads it and maybe even gives his side of the story... might be good for a chuckle.

Drinking at home ftw!!!

2004-07-29T13:06:00.000-07:00

As most drinking is done during someone's free time, I suppose it can be considered as a hobby... maybe even a lifestyle... Lots of hard work and dedication goes into drinking properly. You have to know when to mix and when not to mix, when cocktails are acceptable and when they are not, when to switch to shorts and of course Tequila timing is paramount to the success of any Alco-holocaust.

All learning is field based, and all performance improvement is self driven. There are a number of drinking books (mainly about cocktails) which are referred to on a regular basis. Every drinking night is a competition, mainly to stay in control of your faculties and to be able to pronounce words in an audible manner for the longest period of time possible.

I consider drinking at home to be a skill which is perfected over several years. It takes commitment, perseverance and patience to constantly encourage your friends to realise that having a drink at home is better than going to the pub.

This is how the argument usually goes...

Cost

Beer is expensive over here.

A case of 24 cans of beer will cost you in the region of £16.00.
This equates to £1.50 per pint.
Pub prices are roughly £2.50 a pint. (depending on region / access to student bars)

To show a more practical demonstration:
6 people go out for a night. They each consume (on average) 8 pints of beer in the evening. 48 pints are consumed in total.

48 pints at pub prices (@2.50 a pint) = £120.00

48 Pints if purchased for home consumption = £32.00
Saving £88.00 - which is enough for approximately 132 more cans of beer!!

The figures speak for themselves.

Transport
Getting to and from the pub is a pain in the rear end. Taxi's cost in the region of £8, each way or more if it is after midnight. Of course you could use the bus, but public transport is generally only available at socially inconvenient times and is unreliable/unpleasant. You could cycle but then there is always the chance of the wandering rogue who takes perverse pleasure in stealing key pieces of your bike, or if this is not possible, thinks it is hilarious to stamp on your wheels until they are a lovely crescent shape. This means that the most reliable way to get into town is to drive, which then means one of you is unable to have a drink, and you have to find somewhere to park where your car will not get stolen, vandalised or hit by the aforementioned irregular buses.

Environment
There's nothing worse than going to a drinking house, and finding the place ram-packed with red-eyed idiots who are all involved in a strutting contest to prove who is the most gorgeous / most tough / most sexy / has the biggest or loudest car/ stupidest hair / most piercings / can drink the most / can drink the fastest / can shout the loudest /can arm-wrestle anyone / most able to reproduce the kick boxing style of Jean-Claude van Damme / has the most expensive clothes / is wearing the most make-up etc etc etc.

Some people say that this is the best part of going out. I disagree.

I prefer to have a drink with my friends without having to resort to fending off the same idiot stranger who came up to me earlier in the evening barely able to stand saying things like "I'm so drunk" and "God I'm wrecked hahahahah" whilst spilling his beer over my trousers/neck or vomiting into the gutter outside the pub.

I hate having to fight my way to the overcrowded bar, which is usually shoulder to shoulder with 6 people who all want a drink, but have nominated one person to do the buying, but then CROWD ROUND so no-one else can get to the bar.

Then you have to fight your way FROM the bar, desperately trying not to spill anything because English Pubs/Bars haven't quite grasped the concept of Tray's... Why wait 10 minutes for an over-priced beverage standing next to some spotty teenager who overdosed on perfume/makeup/aftershave, when it takes less than a minute to go and get a fresh, ice-cold beer from my fridge, and put it in a glass without lipstick on. (the glass - not me)

There are generally never enough places to sit, and even if there are, then you have to run the 'is there any chewing gum on my chair or in a strategically hidden place which I don't know about until I get up and find that my knee is covered with someone else's gum' gauntlet, and then theres the usual collection of overdressed women who are wearing shoes which are just too damn high for them!!!...and they spill their drink on you every time they walk past. (in some circles this is considered a bona-fide chat-up technique)

I'm not even going into the usual collection of couples who after a few drinks decide to settle all of the household arguments that they have been keeping quiet about for the past 5 years, amidst floods of tears and runny makeup, shouting, breaking glass vand screaming etc etc.

That is of course, only if you manage to meet the absurd dress requirements of some of these places and can actually get in past the bouncer who has an IQ the same as his height in feet...

I could continue but I think I have made my point.

In favour of Drinking at home

At home, there are always plenty of comfortable seats.
The beer is cheaper and the one you want is always available.
The music isn't too loud, too quiet or too rubbish.
The people are guaranteed to be people you know and like, who aren't going to ask you to arm wrestle them, or even worse accuse you of 'looking at them funny' and offer you out for a fight.
We don't crowd round the fridge whilst someone gets us all a beer.
There's a plentiful supply of food, which again is cheaper than buying it en route to, from or in the pub.
You don't need a taxi to get there and back, and you can even sleep over if you are too drunk to walk.
There's a bathroom which does not look like the US air force have just been over in a strategic air strike, and it doesn't have a queue of people outside waiting to use it.
You can watch and hear the TV if you want it on, and no-one shouts at you for turning it over or off.
You can drink after hours, and right on into the night and even the next day if you want.
You can play cards/Dominoes/Mah-Jongg without having to fend off staggering buffoons who seem intent on knocking every single table and chair over.
The tables are clean and the ashtray's don't have half a ton of empty crisp bags in them.
You can leave your coat and bag wherever you like and it wont get stolen/vomited on/covered in beer.
There is no dress code. (in fact clothing is entirely optional for women)

Having read this however, please appreciate that I am 36 now, and married, so this is surely a symptom... or maybe I am just too lazy to go drinking in town.

Its not agoraphobia, its a hatred of the public and their stupidity...

(Be aware that this type of scenario only really applies to drinking in the UK. Drinking on the continent or while on holiday is another matter entirely...)

Bra's Demystified -or - Female Humiliation 101

2004-07-26T11:18:00.000-07:00

The bra knack takes many years of practice - and also you have to have the sort of personality which can get away with doing it... repeatedly...

But I can explain the stages to you...

Stage 1 - Annoyance

A simple Undoing of one or more of the clasps of the bra, usually completed one handed and can be done so quickly they dont know its happened. This is where most people stop

... I'm not most people...

Stage 2 - Embarrasment

As the victim dashes her hands round to the back of her top, leaving the front exposed to attack. You then very carefully leap in and hook your index finger underneath the central part of the bra and pull towards you (not up). Towards you because it is not your intent to simply get someones tits out for a gander - you arent a perv!! If you succeed You will be rewarded with a very satisfying 'flop' sensation, and you know that your attack has worked. The victim will now try to cover the front of her top. This leaves you with an open field. the next stages are optional. (she may try to hit you at this point - but not until her hands are free)

OPTIONS

Stage 3 - Humiliation.

Whilst the victim is trying to sort it all out - more than likely they will be holding the front of their top - trying to keep control of their assets until they can discreetly slip it all back into place - before doing the bra back up themselves... If they havent retired to another room to do this there is ample more scope ...

Option a) "Jelly on a Plate"

I love this one...

by now your victim is usually terrified about what your next line of attack will be, but this is a great one. You simply grab the top of your victims shoulders, and then firmly but gently quickly rock them backwards and forwards, singing this song as you go...(which my mum taught me when I was small - thanks mum)

Jelly on a plate
Jelly on a plate
Wibble wobble
wibble wobble
Jelly on a plate!!

If you have a wobble board in the vicinity - use it now.

Option b) "One for the neighbours"

I use this one quite a lot actually...

When your victim is about to put the final touched to re-doing the bra (make sure the hands are behind the back) you come in from behind and reach around your victims arms, completely trapping them. You then grab hold of the bottom of your victims top, push them towards a front door or window (the key is to have a portal to the outside world) and then in one swift, sure movement, you pull the clothes UP... leaving the breasts exposed to the air... terrible you are thinking - but thats not it yet... as the predator - you are unable to view said breasts - and therfore allegations of perviness are unfounded... what you SHOULD do however, is to force your victim *(who's arms are still trapped) towards the front door / window and press the aforementioned wobbly bits against the glass...

this works particularly well with my front door - as there are two thin panes of glass either side of the centre of the door, which just happen to accomodate breasts without the owner being seen...

Option c) Utter removal

This is the trickiest one of the lot - and requires some amount of skill, as well as booze on the part of the victim for it to work properly.

You have to be at the 'flopped' stage as previously mentioned.

Basically, as your victim puts her arms behind her back to do it back up again, you have to move like lightning. Grab both straps at the top of the shoulders and very quickly move them both down BEHIND her back (wshe wont know what is happening until it is too late) The key thing to remember is that you have to get at least one strap off the arm PAST the elbow - this will not work if you dont manage that. Your victim will be scrabbling for bra ends and clasps in the vain hope that this will deter your attack. hahahahah. Once you have got one off the elbow - you need to work it off the arm completely - there will be fighting, but if you prevail, you can lull your victim into a false sense of security by stopping there... for a moment. Once her guard is down, she will more than likely attempt to re-do the bra BEFORE slipping the strap back on - BIG mistake - thats where you leap in - Grab the other strap and go through the procedure again - in fact it doesnt matter if the bra is done up - because you are so ninja that she will still be concentrating on the front/straps whilst you undo it again. Go through the 'flopped' stage again if necessary as the breasts must not be 'housed' when you attempt to remove the garment. All thats left is for you to grab the one side (which should be flapping free showing from the arm of her top) and pull SIDEWAYS and TOWARDS you. Its important to pull in both directions at once in case of 'cupping' which can cause injury (which is not the intent)

Of course you can do all 3 of the options - but that is for veterans and/or someone you know REALLLLLLLLLLLY well and can guarantee they wont sue you for sexual harassment or try to kill you. or get their neanderthal boyfs to kill you either...

And thats about it really... the hardest thing to learn - is that womens bra's do not all have the same clasp arrangement. the trickiest ones are the 3x2 clasps (2 columns of 3 clasps) and that is only because you cant use your fingertips to undo all of the clasps at the same time - you have to use your palm of the hand in a sort of weird one hand clapping movement..

Women, Silver, Gold and Genetic Programming

2004-07-24T07:20:00.000-07:00

I theorise that there is some kind of latent DNA coding hidden deep inside women, which when activated affects their memory.

Its like this - most married men I have spoken to (and certainly its popular urban myth) all agree that for some reason, as soon as the wedding ring goes on the finger, women seem to remove all knowledge, skill, thought processes and inclinations linked to or pertaining to giving blow jobs.

What the hell is all that about?

I reckon that the key is when gold (au) comes into contact with the lower part of the palm just below the wedding ring finger., this triggers a cascade sequence which somehow affects the memory and impulses linked to said act. It might be that precious gemstones give off some kind of odd electrical charge when in contact with moisture from the hand which triggers the sequence - I dont know. But I would say that this particular urban myth is true - and I'd like to know the real reason why.

(aside from the fact that women are fickle, inconsistent, evil creatures at the best of times)

Discuss...