Karma? Thanks a Bunch.


War Hero
Book Reviewer
Every action has a reaction. Scientific fact. However, Karma is alive and well. You don't have to watch My Name is Earl to know that. I'm living proof.

Last week in the afternoon, i went out for a drink with two members of this here sight. I ended up feeling slightly trollied. The thing is, that same night i was meeting my mucker for a few sherberts in the RNA club. After a nightmare tube ride from hell where my bladder had swollen to the dimensions of Phileas Foggs favourite balloon, i exited the station via the car park to wazz in a place slightly hidden from view.

Most of you will know the satisfaction of releasing the held in piss. It's up there with winning shit loads of money, having a woman let you do her up the wrong 'un and burning your neighbours shed down. After producing a puddle much like a burst water main, i walked out of the car park and trod slap bang into the biggest dog shit imaginable. Now all dogs are 99 percent wolf, but this dog must have been 99 percent cuntwolf with intestines longer than the equator and a ring piece the same dimensions as Blofelds volcano entrance in "You Only Live Twice". This turd was so large you could have housed twelve families if immigrants on it with space for a pikeys caravan. Imagine my fury. I had to dig most of the shite off the treads of my shoes with a thin branch from a tree and most of the rest i wiped on a nearby bike tyre (cyclist do my head in so fuck them). Karma establishes itself.

As i go to cross the road feeling slightly happier, the green man starts flashing and as i take one step, i nearly get flattened by a cyclist. Of course, i swore my head off at him and he gave me two fingers. I hope he crashed into a steam roller. Karma for wiping dog shit on a bike it would seem.

In the club, there was a notorious gobshite there of rather large proportions whom i dislike. I mentioned to my oppo that i wish the stool he was sitting on would collapse, thus providing me with a laugh. After making this comment, i dropped my pint.

The final straw was when i got home. The misses told me how she nearly got stung by a wasp. I told her to man the fuck up and declare war on the bastards, killing every one she comes across. I then went outside for a smoke and sat down on one of the cunting things which was dying on my garden seat.

From now on, i'm going to live the life of a monk. Do these things just happen to me?
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Ahhh Karma....Great post had me in tears.

I was in London at the weekend, in a club, doing the usual, drinking, dancing trying to pull all females within the city when some big prick pushed me, me being slightly drunk threatened to break his legs if he did it again.....half an hour later, i attempt a cartwheel and whallla, sat here in a knee length cast....
It's all a big lie. When I used to be an energy surveyor I'd take great pleasure in going to people's homes and drinking their tea, eating their biscuits and taking loads of their money for measuring their loft insulation. Generally I was an utter cunt and would smugly smile as they signed a fat cheque in return for a worthless piece of paper I'd knocked up.

One day I spent around 12 minutes at a Spanish family's house, had my usual nose in the loft, spent 10 seconds looking at the boiler and demanded my £125.

Daddy spick got a little arsey and said it was a rip off and started kicking off. I explained that it was the law and it was all thanks to the EU which his gash nation was a big part of. Anyway thinks got a little heated but he eventually paid up. As I reversed out of his drive, I knocked over a plant pot, I didn't bother to pick it up.

When I got home that evening my missus anounced that we had won a four night stay at the Ritz in Madrid with business class flights.


Lantern Swinger
Book Reviewer
On a similar subject, having just signed up for a run the confirmation email was followed by one from Dominos telling me af all their offers for cheap pizza. Surely this is fate telling me "you, Jock, are a fat wanker, why are you trying to fight this?"


War Hero
On a similar subject, having just signed up for a run the confirmation email was followed by one from Dominos telling me af all their offers for cheap pizza. Surely this is fate telling me "you, Jock, are a fat wanker, why are you trying to fight this?"
I guess it's a pleasant change having fate, rather than a matelot, state the obvious? :glasses8:


Lantern Swinger
Book Reviewer
I guess it's a pleasant change having fate, rather than a matelot, state the obvious? :glasses8:
Face with that sort of comment, the normal retort is "Well you're an ugly retard and I am on a diet!" I then scarper.

My other fave is "Did you shave this morning?",
"Yes, when you start puberty your beard will grow during the day too!"
I tend to pick my audience for this one.


Not 4 hours ago I was laughing at the sound of screaming coming from the room next to me in the tattoo studio. Then the ditch of my elbow was shaded......

Oh how I laughed then.


War Hero
Karma's a cnut. There I was last monday 3.30am sat in some sodding forest in Canterbury waiting for some fuckwit nana to sort his shit out and move along so I could get get my truck loaded, normaly I help out throwing chains over the load etc so the other driver can get on but I was hung over and grumpy so sat in my cab with the heater on feeling sorry for myself.

Wrong move. The journey back to christchurch involves going past a permanent police weigh station, normally closed at that time of day. Fcukers openned it early, 46 and a half tonne and $350 bucks later for being overloaded I wished I'd have been more helpful earlier. Last night I was shooting shit with the other drivers in the hotel we're staying at giving them grief for not re-boiling the jug as they leave the hotel so it's hot when I get up as I'm on gentlemans hours and dont have to get up until 4.30. Bloody 4.9 earthquake at 3.30 woke everyone up.

So, I'm being nice to everyone, not standing on ants etc, what goes around comes around.


Book Reviewer
Haven't been feeling very well for the last 36 hours. Sweats, aches & pains, generally feeling like shit. Lying on the sette last night feeling sorry for myself, Mrs wits is watching her shite programs X factor, The Real housewives of somefuckingwhere she'd recorded. I've got a grump on after watching Scotland get robbed earlier on and start abusing everyfucker on the box. She took particular offence to my mocking of the crying drama queens on the X factor. A little tiff occurs and she fucks off to the spare room in a huff. Excellent, I settle in for some peace and quiet whilst watching The Bourne Ultimatum. Still feeling like crap I turn in for the night.

Half three in the morning I wake up with that wet feeling in my boxers. Fuckn diarrhea, I've shat myself. Quickly jumping out of bed I head for the bathroom with shit running down my legs. Standing in the shower at half 3 in the morning watching brown water run down the drain isn't fun. After finishing up my shower I wander back into the bedroom, turn on the light and find I have trailed shit over the bedroom carpet. After cleaning this up and finding the bedsheets need to hit the washing machine fast, I decide to open the bedroom window and sleep on the sette, funnily enough the scene of my original crime.

How she laughed this morning whilst uttering, "serves you right for being so mean".
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