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Hoddle Is A God said:
Mrs HIAG and the two lads went out to try their luck. We live in a very plush neighbourhood, and you'd think the illicitly gained booty would be top-dollar, but most of them are blue-rinsers, and they're miserable bastards. They close the curtains and keep the lights off, but I've taught my 6 year old to shout through the letterbox, "Your car's on the drive, you idiot! Now, give me some ****ing candy, and make it the good stuff!"

I stayed in. I'm not keen on all this begging lark. I'm not adverse it, though, when any local kids knock, not that I get many come my way, as my property is somewhat out of the way, on the edge of a very dark wood. Ironically, the kind of place that you'd want to hang out on Halloween. But I keep a bucket of sweeties, just in case. One has got to show willing, I believe. Well, as it happened, there was a tinkle on the bell, at around 11pm. I ambled to the door, bucket of sweeties in hand, and there on my porch stood a couple of pimply, pasty-faced individuals. They looked a little old to be out trick-r-treating, and they were wearing suits ffs!

"They're the worst Halloween costumes I have ever seen!" I said. "You look like Jehovah Witnesses, for ****sake! If you can't make the effort, you're not getting your sticky fingers on my sweeties!"

Well, it turned out that they were, in fact, Jehovah Witnesses. They wanted to preach the Good Word to me, and tell me that the pumpkin Jack-O-Lanterns on my porch were symbols of Satan, so I politely told them to **** off and closed the door, and went back to watching my DVD of The Exorcist.
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Candy?

That's almost as bad as your cringeworthy use of the word "bro".
 
Hoddle Is A God said:
Mrs HIAG and the two lads went out to try their luck. We live in a very plush neighbourhood, and you'd think the illicitly gained booty would be top-dollar, but most of them are blue-rinsers, and they're miserable bastards. They close the curtains and keep the lights off, but I've taught my 6 year old to shout through the letterbox, "Your car's on the drive, you idiot! Now, give me some ****ing candy, and make it the good stuff!"

I stayed in. I'm not keen on all this begging lark. I'm not adverse it, though, when any local kids knock, not that I get many come my way, as my property is somewhat out of the way, on the edge of a very dark wood. Ironically, the kind of place that you'd want to hang out on Halloween. But I keep a bucket of sweeties, just in case. One has got to show willing, I believe. Well, as it happened, there was a tinkle on the bell, at around 11pm. I ambled to the door, bucket of sweeties in hand, and there on my porch stood a couple of pimply, pasty-faced individuals. They looked a little old to be out trick-r-treating, and they were wearing suits ffs!

"They're the worst Halloween costumes I have ever seen!" I said. "You look like Jehovah Witnesses, for ****sake! If you can't make the effort, you're not getting your sticky fingers on my sweeties!"

Well, it turned out that they were, in fact, Jehovah Witnesses. They wanted to preach the Good Word to me, and tell me that the pumpkin Jack-O-Lanterns on my porch were symbols of Satan, so I politely told them to **** off and closed the door, and went back to watching my DVD of The Exorcist.
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You really must have a sad life, if you spent time writing this bollocks.
 
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pieguts said:
You really must have a sad life, if you spent time writing this bollocks.
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I touch-type with a speed of around 120 words per minute.

I taught myself from a Pitman course book that I borrowed from a local library, one Summer hols from University. It took me approximately 6 weeks to go through the entire book and to master the Pitman method. I used to practice on my mother's electric typewriter, and I have been practising ever since, roughly 30 years. It's a skill that has put me in very great stead.

So, please, don't you try and tell me that I have a sad life.
 
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Hoddle Is A God said:
I touch-type with a speed of around 120 words per minute.

I taught myself from a Pitman course board that I borrowed from a local library, one Summer hols from University. It took me approximately 6 weeks to go through the entire book and to master the Pitman method. I used to practice on my mother's electric typewriter, and I have been practising ever since, roughly 30 years. It's a skill that has put me in very great stead.

So, please, don't you try and tell me that I have a sad life.
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<laugh><laugh><laugh> You ain't wired up right!!
 
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Hoddle Is A God said:
I touch-type with a speed of around 120 words per minute.

I taught myself from a Pitman course book that I borrowed from a local library, one Summer hols from University. It took me approximately 6 weeks to go through the entire book and to master the Pitman method. I used to practice on my mother's electric typewriter, and I have been practising ever since, roughly 30 years. It's a skill that has put me in very great stead.

So, please, don't you try and tell me that I have a sad life.
Click to expand...

What a sad life!
 
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Hoddle Is A God said:
Mrs HIAG and the two lads went out to try their luck. We live in a very plush neighbourhood, and you'd think the illicitly gained booty would be top-dollar, but most of them are blue-rinsers, and they're miserable bastards. They close the curtains and keep the lights off, but I've taught my 6 year old to shout through the letterbox, "Your car's on the drive, you idiot! Now, give me some ****ing candy, and make it the good stuff!"

I stayed in. I'm not keen on all this begging lark. I'm not adverse it, though, when any local kids knock, not that I get many come my way, as my property is somewhat out of the way, on the edge of a very dark wood. Ironically, the kind of place that you'd want to hang out on Halloween. But I keep a bucket of sweeties, just in case. One has got to show willing, I believe. Well, as it happened, there was a tinkle on the bell, at around 11pm. I ambled to the door, bucket of sweeties in hand, and there on my porch stood a couple of pimply, pasty-faced individuals. They looked a little old to be out trick-r-treating, and they were wearing suits ffs!

"They're the worst Halloween costumes I have ever seen!" I said. "You look like Jehovah Witnesses, for ****sake! If you can't make the effort, you're not getting your sticky fingers on my sweeties!"

Well, it turned out that they were, in fact, Jehovah Witnesses. They wanted to preach the Good Word to me, and tell me that the pumpkin Jack-O-Lanterns on my porch were symbols of Satan, so I politely told them to **** off and closed the door, and went back to watching my DVD of The Exorcist.
Click to expand...
Jehovah's knocking on your door at 11 pm?

Sounds legit

Yet another work of fiction from HIAB
 
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Hoddle Is A God said:
I touch-type with a speed of around 120 words per minute.

I taught myself from a Pitman course book that I borrowed from a local library, one Summer hols from University. It took me approximately 6 weeks to go through the entire book and to master the Pitman method. I used to practice on my mother's electric typewriter, and I have been practising ever since, roughly 30 years. It's a skill that has put me in very great stead.

So, please, don't you try and tell me that I have a sad life.
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You sad ****er.

If you're so proficient at typing, why is it that words fail you so often ? Also you didn't even know where the arrow icon was, when you pointed those slash symbols at yourself <laugh>

Have you worked out the difference between silent and out loud when typing the word 'read' yet ?
 
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