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Profile for stuj:
Profile Info:

Name: Stuj.
Age: 47. Fuck, I'm ANCIENT.
Nationality: Welsh.
Occupation: Weatherman. No, not on the telly. No, not on the radio either. Look I just get paid to look out of the window and tell people it's raining, play with balloons and do a bit of colouring-in alright?

And High Priest of The Church of Ding.

I'm one of the few members of the /talk I love Ding-a-ling fell for a ding-a-ling club.
Well, I was until she bit me. And told me to fuck off. And that I was a fucking idiot. And that if she was my girlfriend she'd cheat on me. And that she's not prepared to wait for me any longer. And that I'm simply fucking too annoying. So now I'm going to kidnap and torture her until she loves me again. It's a foolproof plan.
And there's nothing to stop me continuing my reign as the High Priest of The Church Of Ding. And Keeper Of The Holy Golden Bum Of Ding.
Current other members:
Moguragunsou (Plz call me Moggy): Temporary Replacement Golden Bummed Goddess Excommunicated for manga-noncery :(
MONO!: New Temporary Replacement Golden Bummed Goddess.
Scott: Chief Acolyte. Excommunicated.
Lord Gnome: Chief Acolyte and Keeper Of The Seven Keys.
Broadsword: Head of The Incoherent Inquisition.
Kersal Missive: Head of The Vestigal Virgins.
Postal Ninja: Head Ninja and Keeper Of The Letters.
Alligator Shitfuck 2-1:Chief Televangalist.
MooCow Byter: Bishop. Excommunicated for meat heresy.
Druid: Minister.
Monk3yspunkmop3d: Vicar.
90Nz0: Chief Scribe.
Wynoh: Bard.
spacefish: Vicar.
Noit: Vicar.
Cap'n Tallbeard: Vicar.
Theoban: Archbishop.
Spider Riviera: Bishop. Keeper Of The Prawn Crackers.
BatDyke: Mother Superior.
Kristine: Dominatrix
GrandmaOfShoes: Head Choirboy.
Lightguy: Vicar.
Just Harry: Vicar.
TBL: Vicar.
Colmq: Grand Vizier and finder of Golden Bummed Songstresses.
Zouwan: Head Missionary and Bishop Of China. Demoted to probationary choirboy. Vicar Sent to join Frisbee-Adam's Church of Frisbee, where he'll have to slurp jizz from an upturned frisbee. FOREVER.
Dilligaf: New Head Missionary. Excommunicated for failing to RESPECT. MY. AUTHOR.IT.AY!
hot white cum YEAH!: Bishop.
Easty: Vicar.

20th January is Penguin Awareness Day, be aware of PENGUINS!
25th April is World Penguin Day.
6th June is SLAYER Day. RIFF!
21st September is Axolotl Day.
5th December is International Day Of The Ninja. Bring your own smoke bombs.

I make aeroplane noises while wanking

Recent front page messages:


Best answers to questions:

» Training courses, seminars and conferences

Not me but a former colleague.
As an equal opportunity employer my managment implemented a mandatory course on "Equality And Diversity In The Workplace".
Now, the office that I was working in at the time was due to close so we were seriously short-staffed as people got moved to other postings. By short-staffed I mean that nearly everyone left was working 70 hour weeks as standard, good overtime when you're only rostered for 42 hours a week, but no real time off to enjoy it. The manager was on the forecasting bench full-time too, so he wasn't best pleased when he took a call from HR at our headquarters complaining that none of us had signed up for this course.
HR: "Look, this course is mandatory, but not ONE member of your staff has come forward to sign up for it."
Boss: "That'll be because none of the poor sods is getting more than one day off a week, how do you expect us to fill the roster here AND release staff for a 2 day talking-shop?"
HR: "Well you're going to have to release SOMEONE to do it."
Boss "Well, I suppose there is ONE person that I can release for two days."
That one person was Steph, our Admin girl. Who happens to be black. Who then got the course co-ordinator a bollocking for her racist attitude. The event went something like this:
Course Co-ordinator: "Now then, how would you like to be addressed? do you want me to call you Black British, British Of Afro-Caribean Heritage, British Ethnic, or something else?"
Steph: "I'd like you to call me Steph actually, because that's my name. See, it's even on this stupid nametag that you made me wear. And the only people I've ever heard using the words British Ethnic are those BNP idiots, you're not one of their members are you?"
This was what we were told after she got back a day early, and it earned her a standing ovation and a cake from the sandwich van that lunchtime.
I miss Steph, she was good fun to work with.
(Sun 18th Mar 2012, 13:21, More)

» Airport Stories

Back a few years
The Falklands used to be seen as a nightmare posting by the military types. Now not so much as there's plenty of far worse places they could get sent to.
Just setting the scene, in any of the many bars there'd be one or two women and about a hundred blokes. Female personnel liked getting posted to MPA cos they KNEW they'd get sex.
Now for the real bit. Coming back from MPA to Brize Norton on the Tristar a loadie with only 3 days left in the RAF got on the tannoy.
and made the following announcement:
"Ladies and Gentlemen, On behalf of the captain and crew thank you for flying RAF Tristar today. We will soon be arriving at RAF Brize Norton. Please keep your seatbelts on until the aircraft has come to a complete stop.
Oh, and ladies, you are now all officially ugly again."
Length, girth? Dunno, but the guy had balls.
(Fri 3rd Mar 2006, 16:06, More)

» Dodgy boozers

Right, I'm back from the pub.
Some of you have probably heard horror stories about the grimness of Welsh pubs.
Some of you might even have heard about my hometown, the decaying Valleys shithole that is Aberdare.
Now, get yourselves a drink or a few or a LOT of drinks and let me regale you with tales of the legend that was The Carpenters Arms.
First, a bit of history. Like most Valleys shitholes Aberdare was a coalmining and ironworking town. That meant that in the heady days of the Industrial Revolution it was a boomtown. Lots of miners and ironworkers meant lots of pubs. Like lots of other boomtowns of it's day it also meant overcrowding, poor sanitation, and, unlike lots of boomtowns, even during the industrial revolution, it eventually led to a cholera epidemic that got so bad that questions were raised in parliament. Questions that led to a report that, in passing, described The Carpenters as a 'den of vice, iniquity, opium and stews'
By the mid 1980's not too much had changed. It was the druggies, metalheads, punks, greebos, goths, skins, mentals, outsiders and generally not polite peoples' pub of choice. It had: A good jukebox, albeit one you had to kick occasionally to stop certain 7"s from skipping. Cheap beer. A succession of VERY tolerant landlords and landladies. Cheap beer. A pooltable. Cheap beer. Live music on a fairly regular basis. Cheap beer and even cheaper women. LOTS of fights though. Oh and did I mention the CHEAP BEER?
It was the pub you went to if you wanted to score, the pub you went to if you wanted something shoplifted on demand, the pub you went to if you didn't 'fit in' in most of the other pubs in Aberdare, which were populated by 'normal' people ie proto-chavs.
Now, bear in mind that in the mid to late 1980's, Aberdare bore the sobriquet of 'The Las Vegas Of The Valleys'. It had more pubs and clubs per head of population than That London. Every Friday and Saturday there used to be coachloads of people coming into the town from Merthyr, Maerdy, Ponty, Neath and all the other nearby valleys, even some from Swansea and Cardiff. ALL looking for a good night out, a good fight, a good fuck, or any combination of the three.
Hardly ANY of those good folks EVER came into The Carps. Such was it's reputation. Those brave (or foolhardy) few that did either fucked off sharpish or fit right in and came back week after week.
Crass played their last EVER gig there (EDIT: NO THEY FUCKING DIDN'T YOU MORRON, IT WAS THE COLLISEUM! Fuck, I was there, and all these years I've ALWAYS remembered that gig as being in the Carpenters. :/) . Phil Campbell (now out of Motorhead, then in Persian Risk) was a sort of regular, sometimes playing acoustic sets if a booked band hadn't turned up or had been scared off (EDIT: maybe I'm wrong about this too. hell, maybe I never even went in The Carpenters. Maybe The Carps never even fucking EXISTED.)
There was the night one of the dealers, knowing he was going to be searched as soon as he left, handed his entire stash and his night's takings to my mate's girlfriend, safe in the knowledge she could be relied on to give him most of it back (EDIT: Perhaps this happened somewhere else too.)
The xmas eve when a tiny little 4 foot nothing girl tipped the pool table over and proceeded to beat the living shit out of her boyfriend because he'd put John FUCKING Lennon on on the jukebox. (Now, I despise that hippie cunt, but still...) (Edit: AND this, although it does ring bells).
The night when an EXTREMELY cheesy chat-up line got me a dose of crabs. (Edit: I'm fairly sure that this DID happen there)
The many, many nights when dodgy cigs were handed round freely but surreptitiously at the back and EVERYONE just got mellow and NOBODY fought (EDIT: I'm not entirely sure about the last bit of this now).
The night my mate Ruddles met his ONE TRUE LOVE. (He was a shy boy, and after much giggling with her mates she approached him with the line 'You do realise you're God's gift to women, right?' (EDIT: This really DID happen there though).
The night my mate SOG was led in on a leash by his then Grrlfiend mentally scarring some poor morons (EDIT: so did this).
Of course, it couldn't last. Even Adam and Eve got barred from Eden eventually.
The final landlord, Stew, was a decent enough bloke, but he couldn't exercise ANY sort of control. The dealers were pretty-much self regulating, but some of the clientele were totally self-destructing. There were joints being openly rolled on the bar, smack being injected in the Ladies' (The smackies couldn't see in the Gents' because one of them had broken both the lights.) The roof was leaking, the pool table effectively destroyed, at least three of the balls had been stolen, and half the cues didn't have tips. But there was still the Jukebox
Now, at the time my mate Wally was going out with the daughter of one of the higher ranking coppers in the town, and we heard, unofficially, that while The Carps had always been tolerated in the past because 'That way we know where all the real troublemakers are at any given time' it wouldn't be allowed much longer. I mean, not only was Stew allowing all this, he was even selling bottles of poppers alongside the shots (legal, but still, poppers being sold at the bar?).
Come the fateful night, as usual it's gone one in the morning, and there's a lock-in. I'm playing Outrun. Badly. When about a MILLION coppers bust in. Fair do's, as far as I remember they didn't arrest anyone, they let me and my mates go at any rate, Stew got a caution for the lock-in and that was pretty much that. Or so we thought.
About a fortnight later I was in town one afternoon when I bumped into my mate Jaffers. 'Fancy a pint?' I asked.
'Yup. He replied.
And down the street towards the Carps we headed, until we saw no fewer than 3 riot vans pull up outside it and a BAZILLION, fully riot-geared up coppers pour out of the vans and into the pub.
'Soooooo,' I said 'Cambrian then?'
'Aye.' said Jaffers.
The Carps was eventually bought up by a PubCo, and turned into a 'Vodka bar' the cunts renamed it Rasputin's. Apparently you can book the place for a night if you'd want to. Got no idea what it's like though, never been in there since.
*Raises a Spicy and Sunny D in memory of The Carpenters Arms. I miss you. STILL*

(Sat 8th Feb 2014, 3:17, More)

» The EU

(^(^;;^)^) KEEP THE CURDS AND WHEY COMING. OR ELSE. (^(^;;^)^)
(^(^;;^)^) GO TEAM SPIDERS!
(Thu 30th Jun 2016, 21:38, More)

» Scary Neighbours

I was the scary neighbour, but not really.
A few years back I was renting a flat in a Northern City, My job gets me moving on a regular basis and I knew in advance that I'd only be there for a year.

The woman living in the flat above must have been a "care in the community" type. During the course of the year I was visited by council health inspectors 3 times and the police 5 times. All as results of complaints this retard had made up about me.

According to her I had:

Deliberately run her dog over: I don't even drive.

Had rubbish bags stacked to the ceiling in every room: checked three times by the health inspectors. You'd think that the second time they came round would have convinced them that she was full of shit.

Played music at top volume late at night constantly: I work shifts. On the last occasion that the police came round It was 8 in the morning and I was just getting back to my flat after a night shift. As I said to the copper "If she could hear my radio playing from my office on the other side of the city she must have fucking awesome hearing, and seeing as how you've SEEN me coming and also that there was NO noise from the flat when you knocked, what are the chances?".

She then took to wandering outside at night in a dressing gown staring through my kitchen window.

Mad bitch.

No apologies.
(Tue 30th Aug 2005, 16:45, More)
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