Profile for Razor:
Hi!
I am normally a friendly sociable B3tan, quite well known, sort of. To some people here, maybe.
Recent front page messages:
Best answers to questions:
[read all their answers]
- a member for 7 years, 4 months and 30 days
- has posted 6307 messages on the main board
- (of which 40 have appeared on the front page)
- has posted 128 messages on the talk board
- has posted 0 messages on the links board
- has posted 15 stories and 0 replies on question of the week
- They liked 2 pictures, 0 links, 0 talk posts, and 11 qotw answers.
- Ignore this user
- Add this user as a friend
- send me a message
Hi!
I am normally a friendly sociable B3tan, quite well known, sort of. To some people here, maybe.
Recent front page messages:
There were some rad waves
Though it was still a little chilly out there...
Clicky bigger.
(Wed 23rd Jul 2003, 13:52, More)
Though it was still a little chilly out there...
Clicky bigger.
(Wed 23rd Jul 2003, 13:52, More)
Best answers to questions:
» Airport Stories
Security for proles
Security for proles
Back when I was working as a temp for airport security post 9-11 Gatwick airport was the most tedious place in the world to be at 4 in the morning.
However, you met some interesting people and I got to spend a bit of time with the rifle bearing lads of various police divisions.
Now airport duty is dull, dull, dull. So when something exciting happens everyone tends to be 'on form and up for it.'
Que me, politely asking people to check their bags for knives, scissors, various naughty objects that are now verboten in hand luggage.
I was checking the prole-express to some piss hole in spain - lots of ruddy checked wideboys already goggling the equally vile women in the queue.
"Allright lads - nothing that shouldn't be in your hand luggage then?" *I actually show them diagrams, just to get across the point*
"Yeah - my mate 'ere has got an uzi and I'm carrying a grenade - what can you about it?"
This particular brand of gorilla actually attempted to intimidate me. Now for those who don't know every inch of Gatwick is monitored - the only blindspots are the khazi cubicles.
I tell him to back down - even as I'm doing so I can see two black clad and armoured blokes moving to covering positions on the balcony - they're wielding the the semi-auto version for the MP5 for the gun connoisseurs amongst you.
I can smell stale booze on the gorilla who is mere inches away from me and glaring at me.
"I'll ask you again - you don't have anything on this list in your baggage?"
"I fucking told you already - uzi and grenades."
His mates have stopped laughing as two more armed men circle out behind him and signal for me to move away.
I break into a smile and give them the space to 'politely ask him to lie down, not move an place hands out flat'.
I think he may have actually shit himself.
(Mon 6th Mar 2006, 17:39, More)
Security for proles
Security for proles
Back when I was working as a temp for airport security post 9-11 Gatwick airport was the most tedious place in the world to be at 4 in the morning.
However, you met some interesting people and I got to spend a bit of time with the rifle bearing lads of various police divisions.
Now airport duty is dull, dull, dull. So when something exciting happens everyone tends to be 'on form and up for it.'
Que me, politely asking people to check their bags for knives, scissors, various naughty objects that are now verboten in hand luggage.
I was checking the prole-express to some piss hole in spain - lots of ruddy checked wideboys already goggling the equally vile women in the queue.
"Allright lads - nothing that shouldn't be in your hand luggage then?" *I actually show them diagrams, just to get across the point*
"Yeah - my mate 'ere has got an uzi and I'm carrying a grenade - what can you about it?"
This particular brand of gorilla actually attempted to intimidate me. Now for those who don't know every inch of Gatwick is monitored - the only blindspots are the khazi cubicles.
I tell him to back down - even as I'm doing so I can see two black clad and armoured blokes moving to covering positions on the balcony - they're wielding the the semi-auto version for the MP5 for the gun connoisseurs amongst you.
I can smell stale booze on the gorilla who is mere inches away from me and glaring at me.
"I'll ask you again - you don't have anything on this list in your baggage?"
"I fucking told you already - uzi and grenades."
His mates have stopped laughing as two more armed men circle out behind him and signal for me to move away.
I break into a smile and give them the space to 'politely ask him to lie down, not move an place hands out flat'.
I think he may have actually shit himself.
(Mon 6th Mar 2006, 17:39, More)
» School fights
Indestructible.
A lad at my high school, who was a good 2 or 3 years older than me (let's call him Simmo) took an unusually big disliking to me. It was odd because a lot of the other lads in that year I got on with ok, not mixing with my own year all that well.
Anyway - months of taunting from him and occasionally slapping me round the head just pissed me off - even though some of the other lads did point out that 'he's done nothing to you - leave it.'
He eventually challenged me to the dreaded "Outside school, end of the day."
I figured this was the only way to settle things and when one of my own year asked me "You going to fight simmo?" I replied with a "Yes. He's a poof anyway."
This bold statement on my part caused an upswell of interest - to which a large crowd gathered - including simmos sister who was my age.
His face was bright red when he saw me, having clearly been taunted by all for picking on a younger lad who in turn had no fear of him. He wanted to instill fear in me - that was the way it worked.
He walked right up to me and punched the side of my head. I blinked, licked my lips and said
"Nah - you're still a fucking poof."
this enraged him even more, causing everyone to be overawed by his attempts to pummel me.
He knocked me to the floor with a fair blow to the forehead. I shook my head, stood up:-
"Fuck me Simmo, can't your sister fight me instead?"
This caused everyone to burst out laughing and he kicked me squarely in the nuts.
Wanker.
That hurt.
(Fri 10th Mar 2006, 12:16, More)
Indestructible.
A lad at my high school, who was a good 2 or 3 years older than me (let's call him Simmo) took an unusually big disliking to me. It was odd because a lot of the other lads in that year I got on with ok, not mixing with my own year all that well.
Anyway - months of taunting from him and occasionally slapping me round the head just pissed me off - even though some of the other lads did point out that 'he's done nothing to you - leave it.'
He eventually challenged me to the dreaded "Outside school, end of the day."
I figured this was the only way to settle things and when one of my own year asked me "You going to fight simmo?" I replied with a "Yes. He's a poof anyway."
This bold statement on my part caused an upswell of interest - to which a large crowd gathered - including simmos sister who was my age.
His face was bright red when he saw me, having clearly been taunted by all for picking on a younger lad who in turn had no fear of him. He wanted to instill fear in me - that was the way it worked.
He walked right up to me and punched the side of my head. I blinked, licked my lips and said
"Nah - you're still a fucking poof."
this enraged him even more, causing everyone to be overawed by his attempts to pummel me.
He knocked me to the floor with a fair blow to the forehead. I shook my head, stood up:-
"Fuck me Simmo, can't your sister fight me instead?"
This caused everyone to burst out laughing and he kicked me squarely in the nuts.
Wanker.
That hurt.
(Fri 10th Mar 2006, 12:16, More)
» Out of my depth
A couple of years back
I was out drinking with a bunch of guys who were all various ex-militairy types from South Africa; Hard as fucking nails and good fun to go out with. Apparently there is some emnity between special forces across the world and whilst hanging out in a bar in herts we encountered some local militairy types. Words were exchanged after a few too many drinks and the next thing I know people are shouting, hurling chairs and striking fighting poses. I, for one, have got pritty much fuck all to do with the militairy and tried to disappear into the background as blood was spilled and bones were broken.
Scared? Fucking too right.
(Tue 19th Oct 2004, 10:21, More)
A couple of years back
I was out drinking with a bunch of guys who were all various ex-militairy types from South Africa; Hard as fucking nails and good fun to go out with. Apparently there is some emnity between special forces across the world and whilst hanging out in a bar in herts we encountered some local militairy types. Words were exchanged after a few too many drinks and the next thing I know people are shouting, hurling chairs and striking fighting poses. I, for one, have got pritty much fuck all to do with the militairy and tried to disappear into the background as blood was spilled and bones were broken.
Scared? Fucking too right.
(Tue 19th Oct 2004, 10:21, More)
» Worst Record Ever
Worst record ever?
Kylie Minogue - The locomotion.
Mindless, banal, crap in the extreme.
I remember being dogged in my youth to dance like some sort of bad haircut retard, jigging my arms locomotion style. Even my aging relatives had the good sense to steer clear of dance floors when this song was on.
The worst part was it spent forever in the charts.
(Wed 3rd Dec 2003, 9:16, More)
Worst record ever?
Kylie Minogue - The locomotion.
Mindless, banal, crap in the extreme.
I remember being dogged in my youth to dance like some sort of bad haircut retard, jigging my arms locomotion style. Even my aging relatives had the good sense to steer clear of dance floors when this song was on.
The worst part was it spent forever in the charts.
(Wed 3rd Dec 2003, 9:16, More)
» Public Transport Trauma
Where to start..
Let's start with a story that was my fault...possibly.
Usual thing, company night out in the west end of London, some seriously hard cocktails, not much lunch and no dinner.
Got to the Piccadilly line for my tube trip to Arnos Grove. tube was busy but I got a seat and proceeded to drift off into a drunken sleep... I vaguely remember how hot it seemed and how violent the carriage was shaking me as I passed out.
I woke up at my stop fortunately - yet the carriage was empty save for a mature Jamaican woman sat directly opposite me. My nostrils filled with the rancid smell of stomach contents and booze as I looked down at myself, covered in vomit, presumably my own as I had passed out and missed out on the event.
I looked up, feigning horror and the Jamaican woman tutted and sucked her teeth at me.
I felt utterly ashamed.
(Thu 29th May 2008, 22:22, More)
Where to start..
Let's start with a story that was my fault...possibly.
Usual thing, company night out in the west end of London, some seriously hard cocktails, not much lunch and no dinner.
Got to the Piccadilly line for my tube trip to Arnos Grove. tube was busy but I got a seat and proceeded to drift off into a drunken sleep... I vaguely remember how hot it seemed and how violent the carriage was shaking me as I passed out.
I woke up at my stop fortunately - yet the carriage was empty save for a mature Jamaican woman sat directly opposite me. My nostrils filled with the rancid smell of stomach contents and booze as I looked down at myself, covered in vomit, presumably my own as I had passed out and missed out on the event.
I looked up, feigning horror and the Jamaican woman tutted and sucked her teeth at me.
I felt utterly ashamed.
(Thu 29th May 2008, 22:22, More)