I love being a bloke
Discussion
Just sent my mate a text. One word.
"Usual?"
To which the reply was
"Yup"
Now ladies, this is an example of how to organise a night out. No unnecessary phone calls wasting the entire evenings conversation, no to and froing deciding what to do, and absolutely no discussion about clothing etc.
I know I will be picked up at 7:15, we will go out, pick up another mate and get a taxi into town. All organised with the minimum of fuss
Being a bloke, it's just so logical.
"Usual?"
To which the reply was
"Yup"
Now ladies, this is an example of how to organise a night out. No unnecessary phone calls wasting the entire evenings conversation, no to and froing deciding what to do, and absolutely no discussion about clothing etc.
I know I will be picked up at 7:15, we will go out, pick up another mate and get a taxi into town. All organised with the minimum of fuss
Being a bloke, it's just so logical.
BliarOut said:
Just sent my mate a text. One word.
"Usual?"
To which the reply was
"Yup"
Now ladies, this is an example of how to organise a night out. No unnecessary phone calls wasting the entire evenings conversation, no to and froing deciding what to do, and absolutely no discussion about clothing etc.
I know I will be picked up at 7:15, we will go out, pick up another mate and get a taxi into town. All organised with the minimum of fuss
Being a bloke, it's just so logical.
Aah the elegance of efficient communication. A bit like the good old days when programmers had only a few K to work with, but the coding was exquisite in it's simplicity.
BliarOut said:
Just sent my mate a text. One word.
"Usual?"
To which the reply was
"Yup"
Now ladies, this is an example of how to organise a night out. No unnecessary phone calls wasting the entire evenings conversation, no to and froing deciding what to do, and absolutely no discussion about clothing etc.
I know I will be picked up at 7:15, we will go out, pick up another mate and get a taxi into town. All organised with the minimum of fuss
Being a bloke, it's just so logical.
Needlessly verbose:
2n8?
k!
Aye, and not only THAT, but when you actually get ready to go out, you just open the wardrobe, grab the first shirt and trousers that come to hand and leg it.
None of this 'what shall I wear, oh this won't go with that, wrong colour hair, need new nail-varnish, dammit where did I put those black shoes with the crossover straps and pretty silver buckle oh never mind I'll wear these navy blue ones nobody will notice anyway and now which handbag should I take? not that one it hasn't got a pocket for my mobile'....
None of this 'what shall I wear, oh this won't go with that, wrong colour hair, need new nail-varnish, dammit where did I put those black shoes with the crossover straps and pretty silver buckle oh never mind I'll wear these navy blue ones nobody will notice anyway and now which handbag should I take? not that one it hasn't got a pocket for my mobile'....
cotty said:
I ususally get "spoons tonight"
Dont even have to ask which Witherspoons pub, even though the one we go to has been renamed as a Lloyds pub. Hell my mates even have their own table and get upset if it is taken
Yep, we've got one too - right next to the itbox. You wait till someone's emptied a lot of cash into it, then descend on it like a detachment of marines, keep playing until we've all won enough for another pint (even if we've put the price of two into it already)
Failing that, upstairs, right above the door.
wedg1e said:
Aye, and not only THAT, but when you actually get ready to go out, you just open the wardrobe, grab the first shirt and trousers that come to hand and leg it.
None of this 'what shall I wear, oh this won't go with that, wrong colour hair, need new nail-varnish, dammit where did I put those black shoes with the crossover straps and pretty silver buckle oh never mind I'll wear these navy blue ones nobody will notice anyway and now which handbag should I take? not that one it hasn't got a pocket for my mobile'....
But I just grab the first thing that comes to hand and wear that. I have a pile of black trousers, a pile od super unmderwear and a pile of tiny tops just inside the wardrobe - they all go - so top of the pile...every time
cotty said:
I ususally get "spoons tonight"
Dont even have to ask which Witherspoons pub, even though the one we go to has been renamed as a Lloyds pub. Hell my mates even have their own table and get upset if it is taken
Oh dear, it thought you were going to say you get that text from your girlfriend!
(ie, spoons; the position)
Ach Liebchen - but the biggest discussion about dresses und hair-dos - that ist part of the biggest night out....
But this reminds me of a song by your Victoria Wood - und I am sure she will not mind too much if I write out the lyrics:
Saturday Night
Oh dear what can the matter be?
Eight o'Clock at night on a Saturday
Tracey Clegg and Nicol Battersby
Coming to town double quick
They rendezvous in fron of a pillar
Tracey's tall like Jonathan Millar
Nicola's more like Guy the Gorilla
If Guy the Gorilla were thick
Their hair's been done
It's very expensive
Their use of mousse and gel
Is extensive
As weapons their heads would be
classed as offensive
And put put under some kind of ban
They're covered in perfumes
but these are misnomers
Nicola's scent would send dogs into comas
Tracey's kills insects and dustbin aromas
And also gets stains off the pan!
But it's their night out
It's what it's all about
Looking for lads
Looking for fun
A burger and chips in a sesame bun
They're in the mood
For a fabulous interlude
Of living it up
Painting the town
Drinking Bacadid and keeping it down
But it's their night out
It's what they do on a Saturday night.
Oh dear What can the matter be?
What can that terrible crunching and clatter be?
It's the cowboy boots of Nicola Batterbsy
Making their way into town
They hit the pub and Tracey's demeanour
Reminds you of a loopy hyena
They have 16 gins, and rum and Ribena
And this is before they sat down
They dare a bloke from
Surrey called Murray
To phone the police and ask for a curry
He gets locked up - it's a bit of a worry
But they won't have to see him again!
They're dressed to kill and
Looking fantastic
Tracey's gone for rubber and plastic
Nicola's dress is a piece of elastic
It's under a heck of a strain
But it's their night out
It's what it's all about
Ordering drinks
Ordering cabs
Making rude gestures with
donor kebabs
They're in the mood
For a faboulous inteerlude
Of weeing in parks
Treading on plants
Getting their knickers caught up in their pants
And it's alright
It's what they do on a Saturday night!
Oh dear what can the matter be?
What can that slurping and splatter be?
It's Tracey Clegg and Nicola Battersby
Snogging with Derek and Kurt
They're well stuck in to heavyish petting
Tacey's bra flies off - how upsetting
And several people are hurt
Oh dear what can the matter be?
What can that motheaten pile of tatters be?
Tracey Clegg and Nicola Batterbsyby
Getting chucked off the last 92
With miles to go and no chance of hitching
Tracey laughs and says what's the point bitching
I couldnit give a bugger , could you?
Und that Liebchen is a pretty accurate account of a true girly night out!
But this reminds me of a song by your Victoria Wood - und I am sure she will not mind too much if I write out the lyrics:
Saturday Night
Oh dear what can the matter be?
Eight o'Clock at night on a Saturday
Tracey Clegg and Nicol Battersby
Coming to town double quick
They rendezvous in fron of a pillar
Tracey's tall like Jonathan Millar
Nicola's more like Guy the Gorilla
If Guy the Gorilla were thick
Their hair's been done
It's very expensive
Their use of mousse and gel
Is extensive
As weapons their heads would be
classed as offensive
And put put under some kind of ban
They're covered in perfumes
but these are misnomers
Nicola's scent would send dogs into comas
Tracey's kills insects and dustbin aromas
And also gets stains off the pan!
But it's their night out
It's what it's all about
Looking for lads
Looking for fun
A burger and chips in a sesame bun
They're in the mood
For a fabulous interlude
Of living it up
Painting the town
Drinking Bacadid and keeping it down
But it's their night out
It's what they do on a Saturday night.
Oh dear What can the matter be?
What can that terrible crunching and clatter be?
It's the cowboy boots of Nicola Batterbsy
Making their way into town
They hit the pub and Tracey's demeanour
Reminds you of a loopy hyena
They have 16 gins, and rum and Ribena
And this is before they sat down
They dare a bloke from
Surrey called Murray
To phone the police and ask for a curry
He gets locked up - it's a bit of a worry
But they won't have to see him again!
They're dressed to kill and
Looking fantastic
Tracey's gone for rubber and plastic
Nicola's dress is a piece of elastic
It's under a heck of a strain
But it's their night out
It's what it's all about
Ordering drinks
Ordering cabs
Making rude gestures with
donor kebabs
They're in the mood
For a faboulous inteerlude
Of weeing in parks
Treading on plants
Getting their knickers caught up in their pants
And it's alright
It's what they do on a Saturday night!
Oh dear what can the matter be?
What can that slurping and splatter be?
It's Tracey Clegg and Nicola Battersby
Snogging with Derek and Kurt
They're well stuck in to heavyish petting
Tacey's bra flies off - how upsetting
And several people are hurt
Oh dear what can the matter be?
What can that motheaten pile of tatters be?
Tracey Clegg and Nicola Batterbsyby
Getting chucked off the last 92
With miles to go and no chance of hitching
Tracey laughs and says what's the point bitching
I couldnit give a bugger , could you?
Und that Liebchen is a pretty accurate account of a true girly night out!
DustyC said:
whotf is Liebchen?
Ach Liebchen -- tis a colloquialism from Appenzell - a bit like your "luv" und "chuck"
Literally means "little love" but translates as "dear"/ "darling" "sweetheart", "sweety-pie" und so weiter!
Und I use it all the time - und if a BiB were to pull me for speeding I would probably even say it to him ... und hope that Dibs und Iaha would let me off the hook
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