Tag: funny

  • The Best Product Review Ever Written

    This is an actual product review about Veet hair removal by a man on  amazon.co.uk

    After having been told my danglies looked like an elderly Rastafarian I decided to take the plunge and buy some of this as previous shaving attempts had only been mildly successful and I nearly put my back out trying to reach the more difficult bits. Being a bit of a romantic I thought I would do the deed on the missus’s birthday as a bit of a treat.

    I ordered it well in advance and working in the North Sea I considered myself a bit above some of the characters writing the previous reviews and wrote them off as soft office types…Oh, my fellow sufferers how wrong I was. I waited until the other half was tucked up in bed and after giving some vague hints about a special surprise I went down to the bathroom. Initially, all went well and I applied the gel and stood waiting for something to happen. I didn’t have long to wait.

    At first, there was a gentle warmth which in a matter of seconds was replaced by an intense burning and a feeling I can only describe as like being given a barbed wire wedgie by two people intent on hitting the ceiling with my head. Religion hadn’t featured much in my life until that night but I suddenly became willing to convert to any religion to stop the violent burning around the turd tunnel and what seemed like the destruction of the meat and two veg.

    Struggling not to bite through my bottom lip I tried to wash the gel off in the sink and only succeeded in blocking the plughole with a mat of hair. Through the haze of tears I struggled out of the bathroom across the hall into the kitchen, by this time walking was not really possible and I crawled the final yard to the fridge in the hope of some form of cold relief.

    I yanked the freezer drawer out and found a tub of ice cream, tore the lid off and positioned it under me. The relief was fantastic but only temporary as it melted fairly quickly and the fiery stabbing returned. Due to the shape of the ice cream tub, I hadn’t managed to give the starfish any treatment and I groped around in the draw for something else as I was sure my vision was going to fail fairly soon.

    I grabbed a bag of what I later found out was frozen sprouts and tore it open trying to be quiet as I did so. I took a handful of them and tried in vain to clench some between the cheeks of my arse. This was not doing the trick as some of the gel had found its way up the chutney channel and it felt like the space shuttle was running its engines behind me.

    This was probably and hopefully the only time in my life I was going to wish there was a gay snowman in the kitchen which should give you some idea of the depths I was willing to sink to in order to ease the pain. The only solution my pain crazed mind could come up with was to gently ease one of the sprouts where no veg had gone before.

    Unfortunately, alerted by the strange grunts coming from the kitchen the other half chose that moment to come and investigate and was greeted by the sight of me, arse in the air, strawberry ice cream dripping from my bell end pushing a sprout up my arse while muttering “ooooh that feels good” Understandably this was a shock to her and she let out a scream and as I hadn’t heard her come in it caused an involuntary spasm of shock in myself which resulted in the sprout being ejected at quite some speed in her direction.

    I can understand that having a sprout fired against your leg at 11 at night in the kitchen probably wasn’t the special surprise she was expecting and having to explain to the kids the next day what the strange hollow in the ice cream didn’t improve my status…so to sum it up, VEET removes hair, dignity, and self-respect!

  • This Is Mum, Mum Is Helping Kipper To Read

    This hilirious post written by a page called I know I need to stop talking has gone viral and for good reasons, it rings true for so many parents across the world

    “This is Mum.

    Mum is helping Kipper to learn to read.

    This is Kipper.

    Kipper has no intention whatsoever of learning to read.

    Mum sits down on the sofa and tells Kipper to come and sit next to her with his book.

    Kipper leaps onto Mum’s lap, elbows her roughly in the groin and knocks half a cup of cold tea over her.

    Mum wipes cold tea out of her cleavages and asks Kipper to open the book.

    Kipper tells Mum that he is “thirsty, so thirsty that I think I might DIE”.

    Mum gets Kipper a drink.

    Mum asks Kipper to open the book.

    Kipper tells Mum that he is going to wet himself “if I don’t go to the toilet right NOW”.

    Kipper goes to the toilet.

    Kipper comes back.

    Mum asks Kipper if he washed his hands.

    Kipper goes back to the toilet.

    Mum asks Kipper if he washed his hands with soap.

    Kipper goes back to the toilet.

    Mum and Kipper sit down to read the book.

    Mum reads the title of the book.

    Kipper loses his shit because he didn’t get to read the title of the book.

    Mum tells Kipper to calm the fuck down and asks him to read the first word on the page.

    Kipper stares at the page for roughly half an eternity.

    Mum checks that Kipper has not gone into some kind of hypnotic trance and suggests he tries reading the first letter instead.

    “D,” says Kipper.

    Mum wildly applauds and tells Kipper to read the next letters.

    “D…A…D,” said Kipper.

    Mum inwardly rejoices at the child prodigy she is clearly raising.

    “And what does that say?” asks Mum.

    “D…A…D…spells……………….. PINEAPPLE!” shouts Kipper.

    “Fuck my life,” says Mum.

    There are two sentences and six words on the first page of Kipper’s book.

    It takes forty-two minutes to get to the end of the first page.

    Kipper is yet to sound out a single word with even the vaguest modicum of accuracy.

    Mum’s soul was leached from her body and systematically shredded into tiny confetti-sized pieces approximately forty-one minutes and fifty-five seconds ago.

    Dad comes home and sees Mum and Kipper on the sofa.

    “Reading together!” exclaims Dad. “What fun! Aren’t you lucky, having time to do that!”

    Mum explains to Dad where she plans on inserting Kipper’s reading book the next time he makes a fucking moronic statement like that.

    Mum leaves Dad and Kipper with the reading book and goes into the kitchen.

    “G…I…N,” sounds out Mum.

    FULL Credit goes to “I know i need to stop talking”, why not follow them, links below

    www.instagram.com/iknowineedtostoptalkingblog

    www.twitter.com/IKINTST

    www.iknowineedtostoptalking.com

  • Dear Asda, I Purchased Some Of Your Smart Price Toilet Paper

    Dear Asda,

    Last week I purchased some of your “smart price” toilet tissue and I have some thoughts to share with you.

    For my first use I folded it twice like I normally would, but it was so weak it broke, at which point I realised I had fingered myself. That’s right. No romance, no weekend in Venice, just one swift digit up the wrong ‘un in a cold bathroom in Wythenshaw.

    So what exactly is “smart” about “smart price”? My eyes certainly smarted a bit as I jabbed at my rectum. I spent the next few minutes in the saddest bathroom scene since Oscar Pistorius, debating whether to sacrifice a bath towel, a sock or the fleece of the first staff member I find at my local store.

    A few more minutes passed, the anger subsided and I made a second attempt. You see this stuff might be half the price of branded stuff, but I found I needed to bandage it tightly 7-8 times around my hand to prevent me from molesting myself a second time, leaving me looking like an Egyptian mummy that’s just performed a prostate exam.

    The feeling of shame was soon replaced with regret, as I realised I had better things within arms reach to do the job. Even the pumice stone on the edge of my bath looked like it could do a better job than the stuff you supply.

    I noticed in the news today your sales have dropped 7.5% in 3 months. Looks like it’s not just the competition you can’t wipe out!

    Yours truly,

    A very unhappy customer

    Full credit goes to the hilarious customer Paul Antony Goodier

  • How My Husband And I Terrified A Taxi Driver

    How my Husband and I Terrified a Taxi Driver

    My husband and I were dressed and ready to go out for a lovely evening of dinner and theatre.

    Having been burgled in the past, we turned on a ‘night light’ and the answering machine, then put the cat in the backyard. When our cab arrived, we walked out our front door and our rather tubby cat scooted between our legs inside, then ran up the stairs. Because our cat likes to chase our budgie we really didn’t want to leave them un-chaperoned so my husband ran inside to retrieve her and put her in the back yard again.

    Because I didn’t want the taxi driver to know our house was going to be empty all evening, I explained to him that my husband would be out momentarily as he was just bidding goodnight to my mother. A few minutes later he got into the cab all hot and bothered, and said (to my growing horror and amusement) as the cab pulled away.

    “Sorry it took so long but the stupid b*tch was hiding under the bed and I had to poke her butt with a coat hanger to get her to come out! She tried to take off so I grabbed her and wrapped her in a blanket so she wouldn’t scratch me like she did last time. But it worked! I hauled her fat butt down the stairs and threw her into the backyard….she had better not sh*t in the vegetable garden again.”

    The silence in the taxi was deafening…..

    orignal source unknown

    If you would like to share your thoughts, raise awareness or story with us please email us at mumsadviceltd@outlook.com

     

  • Things Which Confirm You’re British

    Things which confirm you’re British.

    • Worrying you’ve accidentally packed 3 kilos of cocaine and a dead goat as you stroll through “Nothing to declare”

    • Being unable to stand and leave without first saying “right”

    • Not hearing someone for the third time, so just laughing and hoping for the best

    • Saying “anywhere here’s fine” when the taxi’s directly outside your front door

    • Being sure to start touching your bag 15 minutes before your station, so the person in the aisle seat is fully prepared for your exit

    • Repeatedly pressing the door button on the train before it’s illuminated, to assure your fellow commuters you have the situation in hand

    • Having someone sit next to you on the train, meaning you’ll have to eat your crisps at home

    • The huge sense of relief after your perfectly valid train ticket is accepted by the inspector

    • The horror of someone you only half know saying: “Oh I’m getting that train too”

    • “Sorry, is anyone sitting here?” – Translation: Unless this is a person who looks remarkably like a bag, I suggest you move it

    • Loudly tapping your fingers at the cashpoint, to assure the queue that you’ve asked for money and the wait is out of your hands

    • Looking away so violently as someone nearby enters their PIN that you accidentally dislocate your neck

    • Waiting for permission to leave after paying for something with the exact change

    • Saying hello to a friend in the supermarket, then creeping around like a burglar to avoid seeing them again

    • Watching with quiet sorrow as you receive a different haircut to the one you requested

    • Being unable to pay for something with the exact change without saying “I think that’s right”

    • Overtaking someone on foot and having to keep up the uncomfortably fast pace until safely over the horizon

    • Being unable to turn and walk in the opposite direction without first taking out your phone and frowning at it

    • Deeming it necessary to do a little jog over zebra crossings, while throwing in an apologetic mini wave

    • Punishing people who don’t say thank you by saying “you’re welcome” as quietly as possible

    • The overwhelming sorrow of finding a cup of tea you forgot about

    • Turning down a cup of tea for no reason and instantly knowing you’ve made a terrible, terrible mistake

    • Suddenly remembering your tea and necking it like a massive, lukewarm shot

    • Realising you’ve got about fifty grand’s worth of plastic bags under your kitchen sink

    • “You’ll have to excuse the mess” – Translation: I’ve spent seven hours tidying in preparation for your visit

    • Indicating that you want the last roast potato by trying to force everyone else to take it

    • “I’m off to bed” – Translation: “I’m off to stare at my phone in another part of the house”

    • Mishearing somebody’s name on the second time of asking, meaning you must now avoid them forever

    • Leaving it too late to correct someone, meaning you must live with your new name forever

    • Running out of ways to say thanks when a succession of doors are held for you, having already deployed ‘cheers’, ‘ta’ and ‘nice one’

    • Changing from ‘kind regards’ to just ‘regards’, to indicate that you’re rapidly reaching the end of your tether

    • Staring at your phone in silent horror until the unknown number stops ringing

    • Hearing a recording of your own voice and deciding it’s perhaps best never to speak again

    • The relief when someone doesn’t answer their phone within three rings and you can hang up

    • Filming an entire fireworks display on your phone, knowing full well you’ll never, ever watch it again”

  • Shocking Children’s Book Explains Where Babies Come From!

    When Katherine Pick started reading a book with her 8 year old daughter in the doctor’s surgery she did not expect it open such a large can of worms!

    Katherine shared her experience on Facebook check out her post below.

    “Well!!! That doctor’s surgery visit took a surprising twist!….

    Adem picked up this innocent enough looking book “Mummy Laid an Egg!”. (Haha, aren’t us mummies clever!!)

    All began routinely enough, with ‘sugar and spice and all things nice’ and such, but I was ill prepared for the most sudden U-Turn on Page 6, where we’re introduced to Daddy’s friendly looking ‘seed pods’!

    No holds barred on Pages 8 and 9 either, where apparently ‘this fits in here…’ (sounds easy enough) and then what can only be described as a child-friendly Kama Sutra guide ensues on Page 10! Aerial acrobatics, fetish clown outfits and space hoppers (fun times!)

    To say Ayla (8) showed a sudden interest in the ‘silly baby book’, is an understatement! 😆 Cue the 4 billion questions I hadn’t planned answering today.”

    What do you think of this children’s book?

    Would you be happy for your children to read it?

    Let us know your thoughts in the comments.

  • Never Shop At Aldi You Have Been Warned!!

    Well bugger me, there is no ‘right time’ to do an Aldi Shop.

    If you choose to take your beautiful children, they will absolutely destroy you!!

    Can I have this useless stuff I’ll never use Mummy?

    Can I have a crappy magazine that I’ll probably eat when im bored, with an even crappier choke hazard Toy inside it for £6 Mummy

    Can I have 369 Bananas Mummy

    Can I have 4 packs of Kinder Eggs Mummy

    SHUT THE HELL UP!! Can i have my Bladder control back that you both took when you shot out?? You thieving little kids! NO I cant!!

    Within 2 Minutes of stepping inside, you’re approximately £10 down already, you’re hiding behind the Cereal having an anxiety attack, popping PRN Propranolol from your bag, whilst carrying a Shitty Magazine, 369 Bananas and watching your 3 Year Old totally lose her shit on the floor because you won’t buy her every Kinder Egg from the shelves!!

    If you choose to go alone on the very rare occasion you have no kids, bloody Doreen’s always out and she WILL mess with your Day!!

    Everybody knows Aldi is a ONE WAY System!! You go in, then up and down the aisles in a one way system until you get to Turbo Tracey’s Till at the end when you need another Propranolol!! If you get to the Milk and realise you forgot Bread, tough ! You’re screwed. You have to go back to the beginning and round again! It’s the unwritten rule, Yes?

    No, Not Doreen. She’s a bloody rebel!

    She cuts across all the isles without checking her blind spots like the bastard STIG in a Bugatti and nearly takes you out, all for a pack of part cooked crusty cobs that she can’t even bloody chew! 

    Then you’re left with a choice. Should I politely say “go on Love, you’re ok” or, do I smash her in the back of the Ankles with the trolley, blame a random 3 Year old and run like hell? Depends where i am in the Month. Do one Doreen!!

    So now you’re done, you know you’ve forgotten almost everything you came for but think, Screw it id rather die than go round again! You load your Items on the belt and Turbo Twatting Trace is After an Olympic Gold Medal in food scanning! F*** me! She’s like F**king Robo Cop slinging it all through whilst you slowly and ever so silently have a nervous breakdown inside, and yet another Social Anxiety Attack. Nice one C*** Face Trace!! 🖕🏻🖕🏻

    Never Shop At Aldi You Have Been Warned!!

     

  • Doctors Receptionist Gets The Best Reply

    There is nothing worse than a Doctor’s Receptionist who insists you tell her what is wrong with you in a room full of other patients, you know the ones the people who think just because they work with doctors that makes them qualified to diagnose us.

    I know most of us have experienced this, and I love the way this guy handled it.

    A 65-year-old man walked into a crowded waiting room and approached the desk.

    The Receptionist said, ‘Yes sir, what are you seeing the Doctor for today?’

    ‘There’s something wrong with my dick’, he replied.

    The receptionist became irritated and said, ‘You shouldn’t come into a crowded waiting room and say things like that. ‘

    ‘Why not, you asked me what was wrong and I told you,’ he said.

    The Receptionist replied; ‘Now you’ve caused some embarrassment in this room full of people. You should have said there is something wrong with your ear or something and discussed the problem further with the Doctor in private.’

    The man replied, ‘You shouldn’t ask people questions in a roomful of strangers, if the answer could embarrass anyone. The man walked out, waited several minutes, and then re-entered.

    The Receptionist smiled smugly and asked, ‘Yes??’

    ‘There’s something wrong with my ear,’ he stated.

    The Receptionist nodded approvingly and smiled, knowing he had taken her advice.. ‘And what is wrong with your ear, Sir?’

    ‘I can’t piss out of it,’ he replied.

    The waiting room erupted in laughter…

    Mess with seniors, and you’re going to lose….(yep, sure are) 😉

     

     

     

  • 12 Funny Rude Harry Potter Love Notes

    Valentines day is  a time to show someone how you trully feel about them.

    !2 Funny Rude Harry Potter Love Notes
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  • I give you: MY NEW HERO. This Soccer Mom, at my kid’s last game

    Glennon Doyle posted to Facebook to share her unlikely hero and woman across the globe agreed.

    Doyle said “I give you: MY NEW HERO. This Soccer (football) Mom, at my kid’s last game.

    Whilst the other parents stood loudly and earnestly and concernedly on the sidelines: this mother laid her body down on the ground, her head on her purse, and her blanket over her face – and napped.

    Her entire existence said: I am showing up for my kid. But I’m not gonna pretend I’m not exhausted about It.

    Please understand that periodically when the sideline yelled and woke her from her warrior sleep she would raise that little thumb of hers and say: yay. And then she’d go back to sleep.

    I love her. She is a cultural icon for our time.

    Here’s to WOMEN WHO FREAKING REST WHEN THEY’RE TIRED. May we know them. May we raise them. May we be them.

    I would like to formally nominate this hero as the president elect of our Women Who Have Run Out of Effs to Give Club.

    I will be the Secretary in Charge of Meetings. There will be no meetings.

    I salute you.

    #OOFClub”.

    Doyle’s post has since gone viral for all right reasons, it is rare these days that on social media someone can share some thing and not receive a barrage of negative comments and perfect parents pointing out all the small details, why can’t a mum be exhausted yet supportive. You go girl!!!