Build your classic Routemaster Bus model for the bargain price of just £1,157.70
Yep, it's another one of those magazines. Issue 1 = £1.99 Issue 2 = £4.99 Issues 3 - 130 = £8.99 each Assuming they release a new issue every 2 weeks, it would take 260 weeks which is 5 YEARS!
Half the issues are late and sometimes two turn up at once.
Actual routemaster didn't cost much more when they sold them off. My wife would let me have one. Made all kinds of stupid reasons up like, the enormous overdraft we already have, the size, fuel economy, road parking, not actually being able to drive a bus, no actual use for a routemaster. I hate that negativity in women.
But when your bank manager called to stress about the giant overdraft, you could have legitimately said "we've sold our car and we take the bus everywhere".
When I was younger my gran would buy me all the dinosaur issues and I ended up with a t-rex with glow in the dark bones it was amazing
When someone repeats your mobile number back to you but in a different rhythm than the way you say it and it sounds completely wrong
''my number is 077-181-066-04'' so your number is ''oh double seven, one, eighty-one, zero, sixty-six, oh four''
It is just a number that i made up, some unlucky person may have had a call, didn't think about it, woops
Am I the only one here reading out numbers like this? 01234-567-890
I had to give a number out so it was like 01234 , customer says 01233, I'm like no 01234 she says 01234 . Doubting myself she's written the same number twice so she's now got 0123401234 .. ok ... SCRIBBLE THAT OUT, start again. 0 ... 1... 2...
Had to take a break after 5 minutes I'm sure they were having me on
Every Sunday I take my daughter to ballet and read in the cafe while she’s learning. Last week a stranger joined me and told me about his Christmas. This week he got there first and ‘saved us’ one of the many empty tables. Now I have to tell my daughter she can’t go to ballet ever again.
Ouch, that's a tough situation to be in.
This man is plain rude. Anyone with kids knows full well that when you've paid for your children to be taught/entertained is the only time you get to just sit in silence for an hour. You should charge him for ruining your headspace time. Just tell him you have work to catch up on and bring a laptop then play on reddit.
You’re going to have to out-talk them. Prepare a stunningly boring and/or offensive monologue about yourself and memorise it. Start talking the second they see you and for the love of god do not stop.
Haha, what, and confront him?
My non-British tennis partners are genuinely concerned for my mental well-being because my reaction to my own poor play consists solely of either profane verbal self abuse or furious apologies.
As long as you keep playing badly, then at least you’ll be doing Britain proud.
Every once in a while, question the ball's parentage and intelligence.
You might win if they get confused.
They don't yet realise you'll apologise for beating them one day ;-)
Walking out of a shop without buying anything and feeling like a thief
Walking out of Waitrose without buying anything. Security looks at you like you are scum. I do my best to look innocent.
Thinking to yourself ''act natural, you haven't done anything wrong, don't look suspicious." then looking suspicious as fuck
When you pause outside the shop in the street so any security guards can see you're obviously not in a rush to 'escape' so clearly haven't stolen anything. Then walking away worrying that what if they chase you down and find something in your bag that they sell in that shop.
Freaks me out when I leave Boots because I always have a lot of makeup in my bag.
I do this walking past a police car. Why am I acting so shady I haven't done anything wrong
Or driving in front of one, "do my lights all work? Am I sticking to the speed limit. Don't swerve too much, they might think I am drunk"
Just got back from my friends house for the first time and she made me a cup of tea using water from the hot tap. I'll never feel clean again.
I faced true evil and lived to tell the tale.
Fuck off. This can't be real. Fucking Brexit.
Have you considered phoning the police?
She just said she does it when she can be arsed boiling the kettle. She actually looked offended at how repulsed I was and said her mum did the same, so there are more of them out there among us.
Fucks sake. My experience on Jim'll Fix it disturbed me less than this.
I live in Amsterdam. People drink tea from glasses here. They leave the bag in for all of 3 seconds, then reuse it several times. Send help.
I'm no expert, but this is why Brexit happened.
A liquid that is almost, but not quite, entirely unlike tea.
My friends French girlfriend offered to make the teas once, is what we got.
Edit: scumbag imgur album
I was in Amsterdam in the summer, one morning I asked a woman in a cafe if I could have a cup of English breakfast tea. First, she served it with no milk, but that wasn't a problem for me. I knew they didn't really 'do' English tea.
I asked her if she could pour some milk in my tea, and she added frothy milk used for lattes. I thanked her and drank my frothy tea with tears in my eyes.
Tradespeople are coming any moment to replace the carpet and I couldn't buy a biscuit selection yesterday because the shops were shut. I'm the worst host since Chris Evans on Top Gear.
I thought you said "trans people" and was very confused for a moment..
I did exactly the same. "Replace the carpet" is my new euphemism for gender confirming surgery.
You at least have tea I hope.
I do, but at some point I put it in an unmarked urn. It could be tescos own, or maybe even green tea or something weird. I went through a 'phase' a while back.
Our food waste bin went missing just before Christmas. We've just noticed our curmudgeonly neighbours now have two of these bins. Thus begins a feud that will outlast living memory.
Well if there is to be a lifelong feud, best start it with a bang. The next time the bins go out wait until the next morning until they've been picked up. Probably should stay up all night and monitor it. Then, go out and wait until the neighbour opens their door, drop your trews, and pee on it whilst maintaining direct and continuous eye contact. Pick up the bin, maintaining eye contact and quietly say, "My bin" whilst brandishing it with an outstretched arm firmly in your right hand. Maybe give it a little shake and say, "Mine." again.
In the early days of recycling where I used to live we had just 2 bins. Black for recycling and the older, green one for landfill. Bags were discouraged in the landfill bin so a small business grew up who would power wash your rubbish bin each month. To make sure he was only doing legitimate bins we had stickers on each bin with your house number.
One day my landfill bin disappeared so I toured the neighbourhood and found that someone had taken mine, scrubbed off the number poorly with something and written their number over it.
I emptied that bin onto their doorstep and took it home. It never got nicked again and I never heard a peep from them about it :D
Next time they put it out nip out and paint your number on it. They cant prove you took it back.
I appreciate the details included. I feel like it’s the small things that make this move work.
How does Oak Furniture Land expect me to set foot in one of their stores when their adverts depict the place as being staffed by a couple of fucking buffoons?
I went yesterday, advert is accurate. Woman told me not to buy from their internet site because nobody has a job because of the internet.
I went to Oak Furniture Land once. Worse fucking theme park I've ever been to!
I went with my girlfriend once, and the bloke who tried to sell us some furniture was such a fucking argumentative, pushy knacker, we walked out while completing the paperwork. It was our intention to go to another Oak Furniture Land until we realised it was over 40 miles away. I ended up calling the Store Manager from the car park and telling her that I wanted to buy some furniture, but not from the idiot who had initially been selling it to us. She invited us back into the store, met us at the door, sorted out another member of staff and told us she’d sent the other bloke on a break as ‘she knew what he was like’.
I went in once and asked if I could see their priceless works of art. The assistant said " There's no Vermeer's in 'ere!"