I went out to the pub earlier, and when I left the flat, I could have sworn there was a pot noodle in the cupboard. Now it's gone. I dunno what happened to it. I got fish and chips on the way home, and had just started tucking in at the bus stop when I dropped the bloody lot on the ground due to unsteadiness. Waste of a fiver that was. Thing is, the bus came so I didn't have time to get anything else, so now I'm at home and the cupboard is bare and I'm bloody ravenous. I was looking forward to that pot noodle. So if any of your readers could send me some food, I'd be really grateful. Be quick though - I'm starving.
Bongo Wishbone, Farnborough.
I was enjoying a few pints in town this evening and just about to move on to the next pub when I came across a disabled lady in a wheelchair parked by the pub exit. Being public spirited, I took control of the situation and began to push the lady outside, with a view to pushing her safely across the road outside. Imagine my surprise when some chap jumped up out of his seat and told me to unhand his wife immediately. When I tried to explain that I was only trying to help, by pushing her across the road outside, he became quite abusive. Fucking ingrate. My policy from now on is going to be 'bollocks to people in wheelchairs.' The ungrateful bastards.
Maxwell Bygraves, Bolton.
My mate Howard's a right laugh. He really is. Earlier this evening we were waiting for a taxi, and Howard thought it would be a bit of a laugh to creep up behind passers by and shout "BANG!" really loud. To startle 'em like. It worked really well the first few times - we were doubled up - but then he did it to this bird and she just turned around and punched him really hard in the face. His nose was pissing blood. He didn't think it was all that funny, but it cracked me up.
Neville Chamberlain, Oldham.
I was down the pub earlier and some bloke I vaguely know approached me and asked me if I wanted to buy a corn-fed free range chicken for a pound. It seemed like a bargain, so I accepted his offer. Imagine my surprise when he took me to his house, led me upstairs and into the bathroom, where he must have had about forty live chickens running about. He told me to take my pick. I told him to fuck off and got me pound back. Cheeky bastard.
Tony Bones, Burnley.
I was having a quiet pint down the local earlier before heading into town for a bit of excitement, when this woman walked in with a big plate of sausage mash and beans, which she slammed down on the bar in front of a man, who it later transpired was her husband. She then produced a knife and fork and a salt and pepper pot, telling the man that as he spent so much time in the pub, he may as well eat there too. Then she stormed off, leaving the man utterly gobsmacked. I mean, you hear about these things happening all the time, but you don't expect to actually witness them.
John Silverfish, Crowthorne.
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