Pneub posted:

I posted a huge note for the thief who stole my bike. Then my doorbell rang.

quote:

Next time, steal a hipster’s Peugeot.

...

(For those of you who are not into bikes, Peugeots are fancy bikes that can cost thousands of dollars.)

Pneub posted:

I posted a huge note for the thief who stole my bike. Then my doorbell rang.

sadsack darrell posted:

Here is my guitar snob story: Back in the early/mid 90's, my then new band playing mostly all original music went to an open mic night (and one our first public appearances) hosted by one of the more popular local bands at the time. It was one of those deals where all the amps , drums and mics are provided- just bring your instrument. When our turn comes around, we go up the stage to plug in and tune up. The lead guitar player from the host band is running sound, and helping us find our places and get ready. He comes to me and sees I have a Squire P Bass and says "Squire? <condescending chuckle> I started out on Squire too..." Then shows me the bass amp and starts explaining to me what each knob does, talking to me like I'm a complete idiot and need a explanation of all the tone knobs and what the volume knob does, really making sure I knew how to turn down the amp. I mean like he is explaining it to a toddler! We played our set to a great reception and many people loved what they heard. We hang around to catch the other performers and I was asked to sit in with a few people on bass, as was my drummer on drums. Mostly acoustic types that never really have a backing band. Later that week, the local music store owner told me that guitar player from the host band was looking for me, that he wanted to know if I wanted to join his band. He had a lot of flattering things to say about our performance to the shop owner. All I could say was "Is it ok if I show up with my Squire Bass??" I turned him down.

Katt posted:

Is that a stereotypical Asian accent?

EmmyOk posted:

yeah I eat rear end posted:

"There's definitely some craftmanship in this sign" - a supposed art dealer, about a piece of cardboard with yellow paint letters on it. Right.

bottybot posted:

Found on youtube, some video about obnoxious guitarist types.

I've written a letter but not posted it except here on the website I use to advertise my web design business... posted:

Dear Cedric,

After having a few days to reflect on the incident on Saturday, I am still unable to make any sense of it. I probably feel a bit like my Nana did after watching Lost in Translation.

As far as I can tell, you, a seventy year old adult man, essentially called me a twat, an idiot, a child, a prat and a bastard for three reasons:

How I park my car on my drive.
How I maintain my garden and the exterior of my home; and
How I choose to live my life.
First of all I should point out that none of these points are your concern, particularly item three, mainly because you’re not my father, at least I don’t think you are. I’ll ask my Mum but let’s assume you’re not.

Despite these things not being any of your business I still feel compelled to respond.

As I tried explaining during our lovely little chat, the reason I do, on occasion, park my car so the driver’s door is in front of the fence is simply to allow myself to get out of the car. If you genuinely were involved in the design and build of these bungalows, as you once told me, you only have yourself to blame. You clearly overlooked the fact that cars have outward opening entry and exit points called ‘doors’ or perhaps you were convinced Sir Clive Sinclair’s C5 would be an outstanding success? If you’d stopped shouting and covering me in tiny droplets of saliva for approximately 12 seconds you would’ve heard my simple explanation.

I don’t like gardening. If I’m being honest I’d rather scrape dog muck out of the sole of a shoe with a complex tread pattern than mow a lawn and yet every week or so I’m out there with my flymow pacing up and down whilst thinking about harnessing the power of electric eels or similar. I do it to keep the landlord happy. I also clean things, paint things, fix things and, you know, do things to stop neighbours getting cross. I’m obviously now incredibly pleased I committed the time to such activities and didn’t instead, go to the pub or repeatedly punch myself in the face.

I dread to think how you would react to a bad neighbour, one who didn’t mow his lawn for months, someone who sold illicit drugs from his doorstep or left rusted white goods in his/her front garden. Or perhaps a neighbour who shouted “TWAT” at you at the top of his voice because he didn’t like your parking.

You also spoke of me living like a child. I can only assume this stems from me having hobbies like surfing and cycling and not the fact I have been building a to-scale Duplo® elephant in the spare room. The reality is I like to live a balanced life; my priority is my family, then work, then my hobbies, then lots of other things like dressing up as a kinky archer and then, somewhere right down the list, is property maintenance. I find this hierarchy allows me to live a somewhat happy, fulfilling existence, if it’s considered childish to some then so be it.

Surely living a life of mundane routine where one obsessed over the length of blades of grass or washed his car after every drive would be imbalanced and could make a man prone to irrational outbursts of uncontrollable anger.

You also called me a prat. The definition of this is; “an incompetent or stupid person; an idiot”.

You’ve made this judgement based on trivial things like the frequency of my lawn mowing or polite conversations about weather, the fact is I’m far from stupid, I once came 3rd in the Norway Inn quiz and have a 2/2 university degree.

You’ll also recall; at no point during our encounter did I rise to your abuse, even when you attempted to get me to relocate to a different part of your garden so you could attack me with your fists. This had nothing to do with me being terrified of a violent old man, it was purely because I’m aware that we live in a close-knit neighbourhood where the walls have eyes and ears. Who’s the prat now Cedric?

Of course it would probably be unreasonable of me to take matters further for what happened on Saturday despite not receiving a grovelling apology. There is clearly an underlying issue causing such irrationality and anger but know this; If I find myself at the end of any insulting, abusive and/or threatening language again, I will call the police and under section 5 of the Public Order Act 1986 you could potentially find yourself being issued a £5,000 fine or even serving a 6 month custodial sentence for similar conduct. There’s no gardening in prison Cedric, there’s no Kia to drive hastily to B&Q, just big hairy prats with an insatiable appetite for OAP bum holes.

The irony is, I am very reasonable, fair and amenable and if you’d approached me in a friendly and polite manner and asked me to avoid parking at the end of the drive for no other reason than it bothered you, I probably would’ve done, but I’m not going to be bullied Cedric, that ended in year 10 when Martin Wakeling moved to Northwich.

The good news is we’ll probably be moving out in the next few months, your little outburst has left an underlying feeling of discomfort in our home. So, in some unjust way, your bullying has worked. I just hope Karma ensures the next tenant is a homosexual environmental campaigner who likes loud parties, hates gardening and has ten roaming cats with diabolically loose bowels.

Sincerely,

Dan (The “prat” from next door).

Antivehicular posted:

Isn't a 2/2 university degree in Britain the equivalent of graduating with like a B- average in the US? Not a convincing argument!

The_White_Crane posted:

This web designer has problems with his neighbour.

Pook Good Mook posted:

https://twitter.com/JoannaInTexas/status/976880197503942656

Antivehicular posted:

Isn't a 2/2 university degree in Britain the equivalent of graduating with like a B- average in the US? Not a convincing argument!

The_White_Crane posted:

This web designer has problems with his neighbour.

quote:

Not everyone gets my sense of humor. Its like when i was getting on an elevator at a hotel and had clear shaker cup hooked to my bag. I had just drank beet juice and what was left in the clear bottle thick was a deep red liquid residue.
As the doors were opening to my floor an old man joking said "is that blood?"
I looked at him and very seriously said. "Not human blood...."
i then stepped out of the elevator and said have a nice day as the doors closed on the horrified face of a this man who didnt quite know if i was joking. And i burst out laughing for like 10 minutes.

Sleepytime posted:

Sleepytime posted:

Sleepytime posted:

tpink posted:

It’s me, the guy who laughs at his own dumb joke for 10 minutes.

Mr. Bad Guy posted:

Woke Child: Check
Audience Applause: Check
poo poo That Happened:

Mr. Bad Guy posted:

Woke Child: Check
Audience Applause: Check
poo poo That Happened:

THE BIG DOG DADDY posted:

THE BIG DOG DADDY posted: