Help: I think I've got a problem.
- Thread starter Father Ted
- Start date
It's because SA members can't show any self restraint while we believe OcUK members can control themselves enough to make a conscious decision not to swear.
The first thread is classic.
But the second is not.
Seriously, who gets off on doing something like that? Ruining a person's life by finding his phone number and calling his parents?
I'm not condoning what the guy did but the response is bang out of order. Then again, from reading some of the SA forums, i'm not surprised. The whole place needs smacktard fumigating.
I hope whoever did it gets torched alive. They deserve it.
My eye, it's because a global sweary ban would mean that you can't insult each other properly in the dons room
.
Soldato
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- The Orion Spur
Brilliant, I love Something Awful forums, there's always some awesomely mad story on there.
Soldato
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- 38.744281°N 104.846806°W
Thread delivers!
Somethingawful forums are good in that people can get banned for trolling threads or posting useless comments. Seriously I think OcUK forums need to start doing this (well, at least the troll part), especially due to a select few people who post self-righteous tripe on here all the time.
Examples:
"How dare you laugh at a Maddie joke?!? How would you feel if it was your sister, bla bla bla"
or
"How dare you accidentally receive an extra £100 from the bank? Return it immediately. You are a thief and I am much better than you, bla bla"
Posts like that make me sick.
Associate
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This all reminds me of an old song by Madness:
IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT:
Nice man George, newsagent on the corner,
Not very rich, but never any poorer,
Jaunty old George, a happy sixty-three,
Not very tall, but healthier than me.
He whistles timeless tunes as he saunters down the street,
Springs in his legs and elastic in his feet.
But in the middle of the night,
He steals through your garden,
Gives your hosiery a fright,
And doesn't say pardon.
As soft as a breeze,
With an arm full of underwear,
On his hands and knees,
Dreams about the knicker scare.
Hello there George, newsagent on the corner,
Hows the old car, yes the climates getting warmer,
Chatty old George as you get your morning paper,
Read about the knicker thief, underwear taker.
Bids you good day, as you wander out the door,
Never closes early, always cleans the floor.
But when darkness hits the town,
And there's washing on your line,
Get your knickers down,
Before the dreaded sign.
When the clock strikes eight,
And youre snuggled up in bed,
Hell be at the garden gate,
Filling underwear with dread.
Nice man George, newsagent on the corner,
He was closed today, maybe gone to mow the lawn,
I had to go further down the road to get me current bun,
Hello - isn't that George on page one ?
No it couldn't be, but yes it is,
Difficult to see from these photofits.
But they are after him,
Of that you can be sure,
They've called him on the phone,
They've knocked on his door.
A-but hes gone away,
Gone to stay with some mates,
He got the papers early,
And saw his own face.
They don't write em like that any more!!
IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT:
Nice man George, newsagent on the corner,
Not very rich, but never any poorer,
Jaunty old George, a happy sixty-three,
Not very tall, but healthier than me.
He whistles timeless tunes as he saunters down the street,
Springs in his legs and elastic in his feet.
But in the middle of the night,
He steals through your garden,
Gives your hosiery a fright,
And doesn't say pardon.
As soft as a breeze,
With an arm full of underwear,
On his hands and knees,
Dreams about the knicker scare.
Hello there George, newsagent on the corner,
Hows the old car, yes the climates getting warmer,
Chatty old George as you get your morning paper,
Read about the knicker thief, underwear taker.
Bids you good day, as you wander out the door,
Never closes early, always cleans the floor.
But when darkness hits the town,
And there's washing on your line,
Get your knickers down,
Before the dreaded sign.
When the clock strikes eight,
And youre snuggled up in bed,
Hell be at the garden gate,
Filling underwear with dread.
Nice man George, newsagent on the corner,
He was closed today, maybe gone to mow the lawn,
I had to go further down the road to get me current bun,
Hello - isn't that George on page one ?
No it couldn't be, but yes it is,
Difficult to see from these photofits.
But they are after him,
Of that you can be sure,
They've called him on the phone,
They've knocked on his door.
A-but hes gone away,
Gone to stay with some mates,
He got the papers early,
And saw his own face.
They don't write em like that any more!!
Soldato
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