Have a rant thread

[Champ]

50 shades of grey

I've read it have you read it?

It's not well written though. I only got it because they were selling it cheap in the asda.

Are you going to watch it?

Yeah I'll probably watch it, I bet it'll be rubbish though.

  

Read it? It's based on me.

  

What all did he buy you?

Well, there's 2 people on here that know more about it than me

[Rick Sanchez C-137]

    

Well, there's 2 people on here that know more about it than me

 

I just know its about a girl who gets tied up and fucked silly and bought shit. My knowledge ends there. In fact, I could even be wrong about that.

[Dr Nowt]

Read it? It's based on me.

 

The bird in it has to debase herself at Harry Potter World?

[Boss]

50 shades of grey is basically what every girl wants, a rich good looking guy buying them whatever they want and shagging them senseless. 

[Rick Sanchez C-137]

50 shades of grey is basically what every girl wants, a rich good looking guy buying them whatever they want and shagging them senseless. 

 

I just need the millions in the bank and I'm sorted. And plastic surgery.

[Section_31]

I just need the millions in the bank and I'm sorted. And plastic surgery.

 

Write some chick lit and make a bomb like the woman who wrote 50 shades, I'm currently working on one. 

 

"Jane sipped her Frappe Latte as she pondered her latest job offer from the New York publishing house, 150k a year and a penthouse was a lot to a girl like her, an otherwise plain and simple girls whose bubbly personality had brought her a long way from her simple lower middle class roots in Bradford upon Fuck.

 

"Would she take the offer or would she choose romance? With not one but two potential suitors it was all so much. Should she choose Jeremy, a former Army captain who ran his own business and looked a bit like a young Hugh Bonneville? Or winston, a personal trainer who looked like a giant big black dick on legs.

 

"Anyway, 'there'd be plenty of time for all that' she thought. First I need to get Emmily's funeral out of the way. Jane had known Emily since they were little girls and they'd been best friends but she'd recently been hit by a bus. Tragically it'd come only days after a friend of Jane's mentioned emily had lost weight and was looking really good. What a shame, Jane thought, as she took another sip and checked her phone again. 

[Jairzinho]

Choose Jeremy!

 

I'm in bits here, Sec.

[Chairman Meow]

Write some chick lit and make a bomb like the woman who wrote 50 shades, I'm currently working on one. 

 

"Jane sipped her Frappe Latte as she pondered her latest job offer from the New York publishing house, 150k a year and a penthouse was a lot to a girl like her, an otherwise plain and simple girls whose bubbly personality had brought her a long way from her simple lower middle class roots in Bradford upon Fuck.

 

"Would she take the offer or would she choose romance? With not one but two potential suitors it was all so much. Should she choose Jeremy, a former Army captain who ran his own business and looked a bit like a young Hugh Bonneville? Or winston, a personal trainer who looked like a giant big black dick on legs.

 

"Anyway, 'there'd be plenty of time for all that' she thought. First I need to get Emmily's funeral out of the way. Jane had known Emily since they were little girls and they'd been best friends but she'd recently been hit by a bus. Tragically it'd come only days after a friend of Jane's mentioned emily had lost weight and was looking really good. What a shame, Jane thought, as she took another sip and checked her phone again. 

 

I'm in. Women would lap that shit up. 

[Paulie Dangerously]

Ever trawled through the free kindle books on Amazon? So much chick flick lit

[Champ]

Write some chick lit and make a bomb like the woman who wrote 50 shades, I'm currently working on one.

 

"Jane sipped her Frappe Latte as she pondered her latest job offer from the New York publishing house, 150k a year and a penthouse was a lot to a girl like her, an otherwise plain and simple girls whose bubbly personality had brought her a long way from her simple lower middle class roots in Bradford upon Fuck.

 

"Would she take the offer or would she choose romance? With not one but two potential suitors it was all so much. Should she choose Jeremy, a former Army captain who ran his own business and looked a bit like a young Hugh Bonneville? Or winston, a personal trainer who looked like a giant big black dick on legs.

 

"Anyway, 'there'd be plenty of time for all that' she thought. First I need to get Emmily's funeral out of the way. Jane had known Emily since they were little girls and they'd been best friends but she'd recently been hit by a bus. Tragically it'd come only days after a friend of Jane's mentioned emily had lost weight and was looking really good. What a shame, Jane thought, as she took another sip and checked her phone again.

 

You've found your vocation, Secsh! You write it, we'll edit it.

 

 

 

Just dont forget your friends when you're lying on a sun-kissed beach somewhere mulling over the details of the offer for that all important follow up

[RoboRiise]

Write some chick lit and make a bomb like the woman who wrote 50 shades, I'm currently working on one. 

 

"Jane sipped her Frappe Latte as she pondered her latest job offer from the New York publishing house, 150k a year and a penthouse was a lot to a girl like her, an otherwise plain and simple girls whose bubbly personality had brought her a long way from her simple lower middle class roots in Bradford upon Fuck.

 

"Would she take the offer or would she choose romance? With not one but two potential suitors it was all so much. Should she choose Jeremy, a former Army captain who ran his own business and looked a bit like a young Hugh Bonneville? Or winston, a personal trainer who looked like a giant big black dick on legs.

 

"Anyway, 'there'd be plenty of time for all that' she thought. First I need to get Emmily's funeral out of the way. Jane had known Emily since they were little girls and they'd been best friends but she'd recently been hit by a bus. Tragically it'd come only days after a friend of Jane's mentioned emily had lost weight and was looking really good. What a shame, Jane thought, as she took another sip and checked her phone again. 

 

Just spat coffee over both my monitors at work.  Then the bird sat next to me, who was speaking to someone on the phone asks what I'm laughing at, spun my screen round and she's just completely fucking corpsed in the middle of talking to a customer, proper hands over her mouth to stop her pissing herself down the phone.  Rep incoming when I can.

[Hooch]

Write some chick lit and make a bomb like the woman who wrote 50 shades, I'm currently working on one. 

 

"Jane sipped her Frappe Latte as she pondered her latest job offer from the New York publishing house, 150k a year and a penthouse was a lot to a girl like her, an otherwise plain and simple girls whose bubbly personality had brought her a long way from her simple lower middle class roots in Bradford upon Fuck.

 

"Would she take the offer or would she choose romance? With not one but two potential suitors it was all so much. Should she choose Jeremy, a former Army captain who ran his own business and looked a bit like a young Hugh Bonneville? Or winston, a personal trainer who looked like a giant big black dick on legs.

 

"Anyway, 'there'd be plenty of time for all that' she thought. First I need to get Emmily's funeral out of the way. Jane had known Emily since they were little girls and they'd been best friends but she'd recently been hit by a bus. Tragically it'd come only days after a friend of Jane's mentioned emily had lost weight and was looking really good. What a shame, Jane thought, as she took another sip and checked her phone again. 

 

 

 

Crying here.

[Bobby Hundreds]

Today I arranged for someone to wait around my house all day for an important delivery. I got a message saying failed delivery I was totally livid, I checked online and the driver had taken a photograph of the house and it wasn't my house, fuming. Was just about to ring them and realised it did look familiar that house. it was my missus house and I'd had it sent to her address not mine. I'm a stupid twat.

[Rick Sanchez C-137]

Write some chick lit and make a bomb like the woman who wrote 50 shades, I'm currently working on one. 

 

"Jane sipped her Frappe Latte as she pondered her latest job offer from the New York publishing house, 150k a year and a penthouse was a lot to a girl like her, an otherwise plain and simple girls whose bubbly personality had brought her a long way from her simple lower middle class roots in Bradford upon Fuck.

 

"Would she take the offer or would she choose romance? With not one but two potential suitors it was all so much. Should she choose Jeremy, a former Army captain who ran his own business and looked a bit like a young Hugh Bonneville? Or winston, a personal trainer who looked like a giant big black dick on legs.

 

"Anyway, 'there'd be plenty of time for all that' she thought. First I need to get Emmily's funeral out of the way. Jane had known Emily since they were little girls and they'd been best friends but she'd recently been hit by a bus. Tragically it'd come only days after a friend of Jane's mentioned emily had lost weight and was looking really good. What a shame, Jane thought, as she took another sip and checked her phone again. 

 

Better than the original*

 

*Probably

[Stu Monty]

Radcliffe and Maconie on 6 Music.

 

Stop wittering on about inane shite, you professional northern knobheads, and play some fucking records.

 

I'm not having this Faustus.

 

A terrible business, this.

[Remmie]

I'm in. Women would lap that shit up.

Women? I'm hooked. I was sold on Bradford upon fuck

[Faustus]

Have you listened to their show, Stu? Don't get me wrong, the music they play is class, but I could do without them banging on about pie butties and shite like they were today.

 

I'd rather DJs just kept the chatter to a minimum and got on with playing music. All of the other daytime shows on 6 Music are sound for it, but, Christ, do they like nattering about garbage. I'm sure they're both sound enough and would be a laugh to have a pint with, but turn it in, lads.

[Nunavut Patrick]

Write some chick lit and make a bomb like the woman who wrote 50 shades, I'm currently working on one. 

 

"Jane sipped her Frappe Latte as she pondered her latest job offer from the New York publishing house, 150k a year and a penthouse was a lot to a girl like her, an otherwise plain and simple girls whose bubbly personality had brought her a long way from her simple lower middle class roots in Bradford upon Fuck.

 

"Would she take the offer or would she choose romance? With not one but two potential suitors it was all so much. Should she choose Jeremy, a former Army captain who ran his own business and looked a bit like a young Hugh Bonneville? Or winston, a personal trainer who looked like a giant big black dick on legs.

 

"Anyway, 'there'd be plenty of time for all that' she thought. First I need to get Emmily's funeral out of the way. Jane had known Emily since they were little girls and they'd been best friends but she'd recently been hit by a bus. Tragically it'd come only days after a friend of Jane's mentioned emily had lost weight and was looking really good. What a shame, Jane thought, as she took another sip and checked her phone again.

 

The day of the funeral was one of those crisp autumn days where the optimism of a summer of romance faded and the reality of the winter to come alone. Jane knew she was a complicated woman, desiring the youthful passion of a man who can quiver her legs with a look, who was mysterious and alluring but yet Jane craved the stability and maturity that only a career man could give. She knew she would either marry her carreer or his. The sex would be forced and contrived, she dreaded having to think of her Latin barista entering her from behind to get wet enough for her husband to finish up. Why can't a girl from Bradford Upon Fuck have it all?

 

It was then, as the flickers of the morning autumn sun cascaded upon the entrance to the church that was going to hold Emily's funeral that Janes life was going to change. The piercing noise of the brakes of the bus halted her thoughts. She turned and the door of bus number 21787 opened. She focused on the identifying number of the bus, it was her birthday. Februry 17, 1987.

 

It was the last thing normal and rational though she would have. Jane gazed down and her eyes met with the driver's eyes. Jane felt a bolt that started in her eyes and flashed down her whole body. This is what a lightening strike would feel like she thought. Jane was never a sucker for a man in uniform, certainly not an Arriva uniform, but she found herself falling into rhapsody as she went over every inch of him. Her life would never be the same. By the time the driver had exited the steps of the bus, her Poundland funeral knickers (because who wears £ 30 Victoria Secret lace panties to a funeral...even Jane had her limits) were drenched in the juices of anticipation. Soon she would embark on journey with a man she would only know as Alan Sex. The man who drove the bus that fateful day when her dieting friend was hit crossong agianst the signal to get to the chippy.

[Carvalho Diablo]

Awooga.

[RoboRiise]

Write some chick lit and make a bomb like the woman who wrote 50 shades, I'm currently working on one. 

 

"Jane sipped her Frappe Latte as she pondered her latest job offer from the New York publishing house, 150k a year and a penthouse was a lot to a girl like her, an otherwise plain and simple girls whose bubbly personality had brought her a long way from her simple lower middle class roots in Bradford upon Fuck.

 

"Would she take the offer or would she choose romance? With not one but two potential suitors it was all so much. Should she choose Jeremy, a former Army captain who ran his own business and looked a bit like a young Hugh Bonneville? Or winston, a personal trainer who looked like a giant big black dick on legs.

 

"Anyway, 'there'd be plenty of time for all that' she thought. First I need to get Emmily's funeral out of the way. Jane had known Emily since they were little girls and they'd been best friends but she'd recently been hit by a bus. Tragically it'd come only days after a friend of Jane's mentioned emily had lost weight and was looking really good. What a shame, Jane thought, as she took another sip and checked her phone again. 

 

 

The day of the funeral was one of those crisp autumn days where the optimism of a summer of romance faded and the reality of the winter to come alone. Jane knew she was a complicated woman, desiring the youthful passion of a man who can quiver her legs with a look, who was mysterious and alluring but yet Jane craved the stability and maturity that only a career man could give. She knew she would either marry her carreer or his. The sex would be forced and contrived, she dreaded having to think of her Latin barista entering her from behind to get wet enough for her husband to finish up. Why can't a girl from Bradford Upon Fuck have it all?

 

It was then, as the flickers of the morning autumn sun cascaded upon the entrance to the church that was going to hold Emily's funeral that Janes life was going to change. The piercing noise of the brakes of the bus halted her thoughts. She turned and the door of bus number 21787 opened. She focused on the identifying number of the bus, it was her birthday. Februry 17, 1987.

 

It was the last thing normal and rational though she would have. Jane gazed down and her eyes met with the driver's eyes. Jane felt a bolt that started in her eyes and flashed down her whole body. This is what a lightening strike would feel like she thought. Jane was never a sucker for a man in uniform, certainly not an Arriva uniform, but she found herself falling into rhapsody as she went over every inch of him. Her life would never be the same. By the time the driver had exited the steps of the bus, her Poundland funeral knickers (because who wears £ 30 Victoria Secret lace panties to a funeral...even Jane had her limits) were drenched in the juices of anticipation. Soon she would embark on journey with a man she would only know as Alan Sex. The man who drove the bus that fateful day when her dieting friend was hit crossing agianst the signal to get to the chippy.

 

Trembing with anticipation, her heart fluttering against her ribs like a caged bird, Jane stepped towards him.  As he turned, a shaft of autumnal sunlight pierced the canopy of trees and illuminated his strong yet sensitive features, his deep brown eyes beckoning her forward to her destiny.

 

As he opened his mouth her vacuous head was filled with images of their future together; joy-filled evenings spent laughing outside a quiet country pub, the wedding which was so much better than the cheap horror show that Janet had insisted she be a bridesmaid at last year, their children giggling in the garden of their tasteful semi as a middle-aged version of herself looked on fondly from the kitchen window and imagined the joy she would derive from making them feel endlessly guilty about sending her to a care home in later life.

 

"Fucking hell" said Alan, brutally snapping her out of her reverie, "you don't sweat much for a fat lass."  Outraged at the vile intrsion of reality into her carefully constructed fantasy life, Jane opened her mouth to explain that size 18 was actually not that big and anyway she'd been on a diet since Christmas and was just allowing herself a Mars bar or two each day as a treat.  However Alan sadly never got to hear the beautifully crafted put-down she was about to utter, as at that exact moment her cranium was pierced by a shaft of frozen urine which had fallen from the toilet facility of a passing aircraft*, leaving her pinned to the pavement outside the church twitching like Jimmy Savile at an after school club.

 

 

 

 

 

(*with grateful thanks to Chris Morris.)

[mattyq]

5 years passed and finally, like a chipmunk waking from its winter slumbers, Jane awoke

Her coma, the result of a freakish accident with a shaft of frozen urine, was finally broken.

Why, have i awoken now, Jane wondered? Is there a Prince Charming that has stirred me with a single kiss? 

She noticed she'd lost weight...no longer the 18 stone behemoth...more a startlingly attractive 10 stone. Her skin felt smoother; especially on her face and around her mouth. Being in a coma wasn't all bad she mused although she didn't like the look of the male nurse. He had a glint in his eye that she didn't like one bit. Wolves and lambs sprang to mind

But then Giles, for that was his name, spoke to her.

"Ey up, love, don't you remember me from Bradford Upon Fuck?

He had a rough North country accent and a commanding air...

[Harry Squatter]

These are the new Akabusi tales

[Dr Nowt]

Spatula was powerless to resist. His eyes burnt into hers like mammillated chalcedony. His muscular arms enfolded her body as she felt herself being swept away on a noctilucent cloud of passion. "Am I the first?" whispered d'Artagnan. "Sort of," she vouchsafed in return, her voice quivering with unrequited passion. "I've not let the other two have a shot on me melted welly yet."' 

 

From 'The Lady & the 3 Muskateers', by Barbara Cartland.

 

[lifetime fan]

Write some chick lit and make a bomb like the woman who wrote 50 shades, I'm currently working on one. 

 

"Jane sipped her Frappe Latte as she pondered her latest job offer from the New York publishing house, 150k a year and a penthouse was a lot to a girl like her, an otherwise plain and simple girls whose bubbly personality had brought her a long way from her simple lower middle class roots in Bradford upon Fuck.

 

"Would she take the offer or would she choose romance? With not one but two potential suitors it was all so much. Should she choose Jeremy, a former Army captain who ran his own business and looked a bit like a young Hugh Bonneville? Or winston, a personal trainer who looked like a giant big black dick on legs.

 

"Anyway, 'there'd be plenty of time for all that' she thought. First I need to get Emmily's funeral out of the way. Jane had known Emily since they were little girls and they'd been best friends but she'd recently been hit by a bus. Tragically it'd come only days after a friend of Jane's mentioned emily had lost weight and was looking really good. What a shame, Jane thought, as she took another sip and checked her phone again. 

 

 

Well I came.

[Moctezuma]

Is there any way we can get a bill through the house of commons to ban Estate Agents promotional language?

 

 

 

From Only= The lowest possible price it will go on the market, if you offer this we will laugh in your face.

 

Exclusive= Only egregiously rich people can afford these, and will then leave them empty whilst living in a tax haven

 

Excellent Transport links= Motorway running through the middle of your house

 

Up and Coming area= Beware Middle Class types the poor might rob you on the street, but don't worry they'll soon be a thing of the past when we hike up rents

 

Bijou/Easy to Maintain living space= It's tiny