I work with a total bull¥$€#er!
Discussion
jdw100 said:
Ask anything you like, I flew it back single handed after I had ordered the rest of the crew to bail out.
On the way back the plane was attacked by three 109s but I managed to shoot one of the down with my pistol through the smashed cockpit window. I'm an excellent shot as my dad used to teach the SAS to shoot and trained me as well.
At one point I had to fix one of the engines by walking out on to the wing. Luckily my uncle was the Head Engineer and designed the engines in America so I was actually able to tune it to give more power as well.
They wanted to give me loads of medals but I said that I didn't want the publicity as my model girlfriend might get upset so I quit and that's why I work in this petrol station. However if the phone rings it might be the Queen asking for my help so I might have to leave an hour early, if that's okay?
Now that is total bullsOn the way back the plane was attacked by three 109s but I managed to shoot one of the down with my pistol through the smashed cockpit window. I'm an excellent shot as my dad used to teach the SAS to shoot and trained me as well.
At one point I had to fix one of the engines by walking out on to the wing. Luckily my uncle was the Head Engineer and designed the engines in America so I was actually able to tune it to give more power as well.
They wanted to give me loads of medals but I said that I didn't want the publicity as my model girlfriend might get upset so I quit and that's why I work in this petrol station. However if the phone rings it might be the Queen asking for my help so I might have to leave an hour early, if that's okay?
t mate. I've seen your medals as I was leaving your house the other night after banging your model girlfriend and her twin sister. 
I walked into thatomgus said:
foreright said:
Twithag said:
Since then we've learnt that his dad can ... pick a boiled egg straight out of the pan with his bare hands while still boiling.
^ Just what would possess someone to make this up? 
k, you little hot fking piece of y, y, motherfking ow, fk, fk, fk, gotcha you little " followed by "told you i could fking do it" in many a kitchen when you can't find the right utensil. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pipTmT8XeAo
JimmyConwayNW said:
I've got an 18yr old lad who has started working for us.
Any story that starts with 'my dad says' is most likely bullst.
Whenever me and business partner or anyone else hear him say 'my dad' we always ask 'who?' He hasn't twigged yet.
His dad can rebuild car engines with his bare hands and a screwdriver apparently. And mini motor bikes.
I have me this dad once and noticed he had a sparkly ear ring. Pretty sure it's on the gay side.
This post makes me sad: I wish I was still had the innocence and age that made me think that my dad was the best in the world at everything and who could do everything, instead of this curmudgeonly old bloke with a serious penchant for not finishing DIY (you could make a TV programme about it where he performs unfinished DIY on houses to prepare them for auction (because that's the only place they can be sold afterwards). It could be called "Homes Under the Hammer). Any story that starts with 'my dad says' is most likely bulls
t.Whenever me and business partner or anyone else hear him say 'my dad' we always ask 'who?' He hasn't twigged yet.
His dad can rebuild car engines with his bare hands and a screwdriver apparently. And mini motor bikes.
I have me this dad once and noticed he had a sparkly ear ring. Pretty sure it's on the gay side.
nikaiyo2 said:
arfur sleep said:
Had a recovery agency come to see me at work over some money the business was owed.
He wore a short sleeve shirt and during the meeting I notice a SAS crest tattoo on his bicep. He notices me noticing, smiles and pulls it up to reveal the legend BASRA 2005 above it.
He looks me in the eye and says, "You know what happened. We did what we needed to do." and then carries on talking. There's a couple of other SAS references thrown in and now I'm biting my lip trying not to ask what colour the boathouse is at Hereford. He missed that there was a very visible webcam in the room not 4 feet from him when he was talking about it was good there was no way he was being recorded so he could talk about the shady side of money recovery...
I just didn't buy that this at least 22 stone bloke who looked as shifty as the day is long, who couldn't spell or speak without mangling the grammar had ever been a soldier let alone in the SAS. He didn't strike me as military (and I know a few) in his bearing particularly - he was just disheveled.
I got the distinct feeling he was a wannabe SAS fantasist.
His company did a crap job and we never got the money back.
OMFG this has to be berk we used to "collect" a £20k dept of some less settled members of the community. Did he give the whole spiel about how he would stop at nothing, go to wife at school gates/ hairdressers etc?He wore a short sleeve shirt and during the meeting I notice a SAS crest tattoo on his bicep. He notices me noticing, smiles and pulls it up to reveal the legend BASRA 2005 above it.
He looks me in the eye and says, "You know what happened. We did what we needed to do." and then carries on talking. There's a couple of other SAS references thrown in and now I'm biting my lip trying not to ask what colour the boathouse is at Hereford. He missed that there was a very visible webcam in the room not 4 feet from him when he was talking about it was good there was no way he was being recorded so he could talk about the shady side of money recovery...
I just didn't buy that this at least 22 stone bloke who looked as shifty as the day is long, who couldn't spell or speak without mangling the grammar had ever been a soldier let alone in the SAS. He didn't strike me as military (and I know a few) in his bearing particularly - he was just disheveled.
I got the distinct feeling he was a wannabe SAS fantasist.
His company did a crap job and we never got the money back.
Oddly enough we paid him £2000 for his company to do a really really really s
t job. 2 weeks later phone call to say, nothing he could do... Tbh I don't think he is an SAS fantasist, just a bit of a con man, who uses the SAS thing as part of his con
Negative Creep said:
nikaiyo2 said:
arfur sleep said:
Had a recovery agency come to see me at work over some money the business was owed.
He wore a short sleeve shirt and during the meeting I notice a SAS crest tattoo on his bicep. He notices me noticing, smiles and pulls it up to reveal the legend BASRA 2005 above it.
He looks me in the eye and says, "You know what happened. We did what we needed to do." and then carries on talking. There's a couple of other SAS references thrown in and now I'm biting my lip trying not to ask what colour the boathouse is at Hereford. He missed that there was a very visible webcam in the room not 4 feet from him when he was talking about it was good there was no way he was being recorded so he could talk about the shady side of money recovery...
I just didn't buy that this at least 22 stone bloke who looked as shifty as the day is long, who couldn't spell or speak without mangling the grammar had ever been a soldier let alone in the SAS. He didn't strike me as military (and I know a few) in his bearing particularly - he was just disheveled.
I got the distinct feeling he was a wannabe SAS fantasist.
His company did a crap job and we never got the money back.
OMFG this has to be berk we used to "collect" a £20k dept of some less settled members of the community. Did he give the whole spiel about how he would stop at nothing, go to wife at school gates/ hairdressers etc?He wore a short sleeve shirt and during the meeting I notice a SAS crest tattoo on his bicep. He notices me noticing, smiles and pulls it up to reveal the legend BASRA 2005 above it.
He looks me in the eye and says, "You know what happened. We did what we needed to do." and then carries on talking. There's a couple of other SAS references thrown in and now I'm biting my lip trying not to ask what colour the boathouse is at Hereford. He missed that there was a very visible webcam in the room not 4 feet from him when he was talking about it was good there was no way he was being recorded so he could talk about the shady side of money recovery...
I just didn't buy that this at least 22 stone bloke who looked as shifty as the day is long, who couldn't spell or speak without mangling the grammar had ever been a soldier let alone in the SAS. He didn't strike me as military (and I know a few) in his bearing particularly - he was just disheveled.
I got the distinct feeling he was a wannabe SAS fantasist.
His company did a crap job and we never got the money back.
Oddly enough we paid him £2000 for his company to do a really really really s
t job. 2 weeks later phone call to say, nothing he could do... Tbh I don't think he is an SAS fantasist, just a bit of a con man, who uses the SAS thing as part of his con
I LOVE these guys, they make life interesting. I have met three such guys in my life; Rich, Trev and Fat Phil.
'RICH'
Once, for his mothers birthday, he bolted a turbocharger onto his mums Mini Metro engine. He forgot to tell her though, and when she was driving around the one-way system in our local town, she put her foot down and flipped the car onto it's roof. It slid past the local Police Station grinding the roof away and all the officers came out to help roll it back onto its wheels. His mum drove it back home and he "quickly popped into the garage and removed it" before anyone noticed.
He used to own this old Vespa 50 scooter with a big whip ariel and bright red furry seat cover. One day, someone stole the petrol tank out of it, and so Sussex Police stopped EVERY SINGLE SCOOTER in Sussex. They found it, arrested the guy and took him to court. Rich was awarded £10,000 in damages, but he "couldn't be bothered to go and collect the cheque from court" though.
Rich went on holiday to Spain with a mate once. One evening, his mate told him he had to meet 'someone' on the beach. They went down there, and this Spanish guy turned up, wearing mirror shades and a leather trenchcoat and carrying an attache case. His mate spoke to him, and it quickly became an argument. His mate pulled a knife on the guy, who dropped the case and ran off. Back at the hotel, they opened the case, and Rich said it was FULL of cocaine.
They later smuggled it all back into the UK..... hidden inside kinder eggs.
TREV
I worked with 'Trev' at a well-known banking office, in the stocks and shares section. He was a 5' tall, barrel-chested asian and drove a capri 1.6 laser with a cushion under his seat so he could see over the bonnet (I kid you not).
I was a mod back in the 80s, and on hearing this he told me that he introduced Northern Soul into the UK. He told me that if he 'walked into Wigan Casino'
(unlikely, it had been demolished) everyone would point and say 'oh my God! Look, it's Trev! The Legend! Trev! Trev! Trev!' as he back-flipped and spun across the dancefloor.
He told us that he had written 'the definitive texts' on body building, and when the company held a barbeque one summer he said he had been approached by the MD to put on a body-building display whilst we all ate our sausages. Never happened sadly, not sure why?
He also had a card in his wallet which meant he could "sledge-hammer your door down at midnight", rifle through your private belongings and he would be totally allowed to, because he did "top-secret work for the government" which he couldn't discuss.
When I came into the office on my new 350 Powervalve, he told me he used to race them, and held the record at the Isle of Man after he "secretly nitroused one". He then told me I could buy his leather jacket, which had been given to him by Barry Sheen, He brought it in the next day - it was cheap, shiny red and black leather fashion-style biker jacket with shiny silver pop-studs, tassles down the arms and big, cheap chunky metal zips on it. It was one you would see at a sunday market on one of those leatherwear stalls that you find. He wanted me to buy it off him for £150 (in about 1988).
As a joke once, me and my mate rang his extension and then hang up on him all morning (lame, I know). Trev started sighing, running his hands through his hair and pacing up and down the office.
"What's up, Trev?" we asked, innocently.
"They've finally caught up with me," he said.
"Who have?"
"...it's best you don't know."
FAT PHIL
'Fat Phil' worked in the local video rental store, and "used to be a professional photographer". He was paid to shoot celebrities at Moto GPs back in the 80s. They would helicopter him out to each track and put him up in the best hotels where he would hob-nob with the rich and famous. Once, when it was raining heavily, he was following the pack on a "spare GP bike" to take some photos, when he "accidentally passed Wayne Rainey" (who was on pole). The Marlboro Yamaha team all got really angry and told him to slow down, but they couldn't get rid of him because he was such a good photographer.
He was also banned from entering any former soviet block country because he (like Trev) also held a special card from his time in the US forces (perhaps with Trev? No idea why it was US forces though, he was born in England).
He was also into "black magic" and put a spell on a guys brand new XR3i once, so he couldn't start it; the guy pulled his hair out as Phil and his mates all laughed, because they knew Phil had used black magic on it and it wouldn't start until Phil lifted the spell.
Anything you had ever done, he had done five years before, but more successfully. He had owned every bike you ever wanted or lusted after - which was odd, because at the time he was riding around on a Yamaha TZR125 on 'L'plates. I think someone must have got fed up with Fat Phil's bullst, because they set fire to his bike and melted all the plastics down one side. He still rode it though.
There were probably many more stories I have forgotten. What always amazed me was the fact that they surely must have known nobody would believe them, yet they persisted in their fantasies. If you looked into their eyes as they wove another story, they really seemed to believe it themselves!
'RICH'
Once, for his mothers birthday, he bolted a turbocharger onto his mums Mini Metro engine. He forgot to tell her though, and when she was driving around the one-way system in our local town, she put her foot down and flipped the car onto it's roof. It slid past the local Police Station grinding the roof away and all the officers came out to help roll it back onto its wheels. His mum drove it back home and he "quickly popped into the garage and removed it" before anyone noticed.
He used to own this old Vespa 50 scooter with a big whip ariel and bright red furry seat cover. One day, someone stole the petrol tank out of it, and so Sussex Police stopped EVERY SINGLE SCOOTER in Sussex. They found it, arrested the guy and took him to court. Rich was awarded £10,000 in damages, but he "couldn't be bothered to go and collect the cheque from court" though.
Rich went on holiday to Spain with a mate once. One evening, his mate told him he had to meet 'someone' on the beach. They went down there, and this Spanish guy turned up, wearing mirror shades and a leather trenchcoat and carrying an attache case. His mate spoke to him, and it quickly became an argument. His mate pulled a knife on the guy, who dropped the case and ran off. Back at the hotel, they opened the case, and Rich said it was FULL of cocaine.
They later smuggled it all back into the UK..... hidden inside kinder eggs.
TREV
I worked with 'Trev' at a well-known banking office, in the stocks and shares section. He was a 5' tall, barrel-chested asian and drove a capri 1.6 laser with a cushion under his seat so he could see over the bonnet (I kid you not).
I was a mod back in the 80s, and on hearing this he told me that he introduced Northern Soul into the UK. He told me that if he 'walked into Wigan Casino'
(unlikely, it had been demolished) everyone would point and say 'oh my God! Look, it's Trev! The Legend! Trev! Trev! Trev!' as he back-flipped and spun across the dancefloor.
He told us that he had written 'the definitive texts' on body building, and when the company held a barbeque one summer he said he had been approached by the MD to put on a body-building display whilst we all ate our sausages. Never happened sadly, not sure why?
He also had a card in his wallet which meant he could "sledge-hammer your door down at midnight", rifle through your private belongings and he would be totally allowed to, because he did "top-secret work for the government" which he couldn't discuss.
When I came into the office on my new 350 Powervalve, he told me he used to race them, and held the record at the Isle of Man after he "secretly nitroused one". He then told me I could buy his leather jacket, which had been given to him by Barry Sheen, He brought it in the next day - it was cheap, shiny red and black leather fashion-style biker jacket with shiny silver pop-studs, tassles down the arms and big, cheap chunky metal zips on it. It was one you would see at a sunday market on one of those leatherwear stalls that you find. He wanted me to buy it off him for £150 (in about 1988).
As a joke once, me and my mate rang his extension and then hang up on him all morning (lame, I know). Trev started sighing, running his hands through his hair and pacing up and down the office.
"What's up, Trev?" we asked, innocently.
"They've finally caught up with me," he said.
"Who have?"
"...it's best you don't know."
FAT PHIL
'Fat Phil' worked in the local video rental store, and "used to be a professional photographer". He was paid to shoot celebrities at Moto GPs back in the 80s. They would helicopter him out to each track and put him up in the best hotels where he would hob-nob with the rich and famous. Once, when it was raining heavily, he was following the pack on a "spare GP bike" to take some photos, when he "accidentally passed Wayne Rainey" (who was on pole). The Marlboro Yamaha team all got really angry and told him to slow down, but they couldn't get rid of him because he was such a good photographer.
He was also banned from entering any former soviet block country because he (like Trev) also held a special card from his time in the US forces (perhaps with Trev? No idea why it was US forces though, he was born in England).
He was also into "black magic" and put a spell on a guys brand new XR3i once, so he couldn't start it; the guy pulled his hair out as Phil and his mates all laughed, because they knew Phil had used black magic on it and it wouldn't start until Phil lifted the spell.
Anything you had ever done, he had done five years before, but more successfully. He had owned every bike you ever wanted or lusted after - which was odd, because at the time he was riding around on a Yamaha TZR125 on 'L'plates. I think someone must have got fed up with Fat Phil's bulls
t, because they set fire to his bike and melted all the plastics down one side. He still rode it though.There were probably many more stories I have forgotten. What always amazed me was the fact that they surely must have known nobody would believe them, yet they persisted in their fantasies. If you looked into their eyes as they wove another story, they really seemed to believe it themselves!
Negative Creep said:
nikaiyo2 said:
arfur sleep said:
Had a recovery agency come to see me at work over some money the business was owed.
He wore a short sleeve shirt and during the meeting I notice a SAS crest tattoo on his bicep. He notices me noticing, smiles and pulls it up to reveal the legend BASRA 2005 above it.
He looks me in the eye and says, "You know what happened. We did what we needed to do." and then carries on talking. There's a couple of other SAS references thrown in and now I'm biting my lip trying not to ask what colour the boathouse is at Hereford. He missed that there was a very visible webcam in the room not 4 feet from him when he was talking about it was good there was no way he was being recorded so he could talk about the shady side of money recovery...
I just didn't buy that this at least 22 stone bloke who looked as shifty as the day is long, who couldn't spell or speak without mangling the grammar had ever been a soldier let alone in the SAS. He didn't strike me as military (and I know a few) in his bearing particularly - he was just disheveled.
I got the distinct feeling he was a wannabe SAS fantasist.
His company did a crap job and we never got the money back.
OMFG this has to be berk we used to "collect" a £20k dept of some less settled members of the community. Did he give the whole spiel about how he would stop at nothing, go to wife at school gates/ hairdressers etc?He wore a short sleeve shirt and during the meeting I notice a SAS crest tattoo on his bicep. He notices me noticing, smiles and pulls it up to reveal the legend BASRA 2005 above it.
He looks me in the eye and says, "You know what happened. We did what we needed to do." and then carries on talking. There's a couple of other SAS references thrown in and now I'm biting my lip trying not to ask what colour the boathouse is at Hereford. He missed that there was a very visible webcam in the room not 4 feet from him when he was talking about it was good there was no way he was being recorded so he could talk about the shady side of money recovery...
I just didn't buy that this at least 22 stone bloke who looked as shifty as the day is long, who couldn't spell or speak without mangling the grammar had ever been a soldier let alone in the SAS. He didn't strike me as military (and I know a few) in his bearing particularly - he was just disheveled.
I got the distinct feeling he was a wannabe SAS fantasist.
His company did a crap job and we never got the money back.
Oddly enough we paid him £2000 for his company to do a really really really s
t job. 2 weeks later phone call to say, nothing he could do... Tbh I don't think he is an SAS fantasist, just a bit of a con man, who uses the SAS thing as part of his con
98elise said:
Negative Creep said:
nikaiyo2 said:
arfur sleep said:
Had a recovery agency come to see me at work over some money the business was owed.
He wore a short sleeve shirt and during the meeting I notice a SAS crest tattoo on his bicep. He notices me noticing, smiles and pulls it up to reveal the legend BASRA 2005 above it.
He looks me in the eye and says, "You know what happened. We did what we needed to do." and then carries on talking. There's a couple of other SAS references thrown in and now I'm biting my lip trying not to ask what colour the boathouse is at Hereford. He missed that there was a very visible webcam in the room not 4 feet from him when he was talking about it was good there was no way he was being recorded so he could talk about the shady side of money recovery...
I just didn't buy that this at least 22 stone bloke who looked as shifty as the day is long, who couldn't spell or speak without mangling the grammar had ever been a soldier let alone in the SAS. He didn't strike me as military (and I know a few) in his bearing particularly - he was just disheveled.
I got the distinct feeling he was a wannabe SAS fantasist.
His company did a crap job and we never got the money back.
OMFG this has to be berk we used to "collect" a £20k dept of some less settled members of the community. Did he give the whole spiel about how he would stop at nothing, go to wife at school gates/ hairdressers etc?He wore a short sleeve shirt and during the meeting I notice a SAS crest tattoo on his bicep. He notices me noticing, smiles and pulls it up to reveal the legend BASRA 2005 above it.
He looks me in the eye and says, "You know what happened. We did what we needed to do." and then carries on talking. There's a couple of other SAS references thrown in and now I'm biting my lip trying not to ask what colour the boathouse is at Hereford. He missed that there was a very visible webcam in the room not 4 feet from him when he was talking about it was good there was no way he was being recorded so he could talk about the shady side of money recovery...
I just didn't buy that this at least 22 stone bloke who looked as shifty as the day is long, who couldn't spell or speak without mangling the grammar had ever been a soldier let alone in the SAS. He didn't strike me as military (and I know a few) in his bearing particularly - he was just disheveled.
I got the distinct feeling he was a wannabe SAS fantasist.
His company did a crap job and we never got the money back.
Oddly enough we paid him £2000 for his company to do a really really really s
t job. 2 weeks later phone call to say, nothing he could do... Tbh I don't think he is an SAS fantasist, just a bit of a con man, who uses the SAS thing as part of his con
Just read this thread for the first time - p*ssing myself at some of the comments.
I cannot add any "My Dad" comments as he was absent for most of my childhood.
As an ex squaddie some of the military BS is just hilarious!!!!
Oh and I was Royal Signals, not many people know that The SAS/SBS/SEALS/ASTRONAUTS are all selected from the Royal Signals.
Tru-dat
I cannot add any "My Dad" comments as he was absent for most of my childhood.
As an ex squaddie some of the military BS is just hilarious!!!!
Oh and I was Royal Signals, not many people know that The SAS/SBS/SEALS/ASTRONAUTS are all selected from the Royal Signals.
Tru-dat
No going to go into too much detail, also can't remember if I have added this one earlier;
I used to work with a complete arse who lied about his Dad being a multimillionaire, talked about his gatehouse, indoor and outdoor swimming pools. He worked up north as a graduate commercial surveyor and his family lived down south. He talked about going home at the weekend and using the Bentley... the lie of all lies was when he told us his Uncle had died, leaving his £6m Chelsea townhouse to him... that's why he was moving back south.
He played rugby, said he'd been to see his parents one weekend, usual stories upon his return, then I noticed he was sending something to his parents, he was sending it from work and he put it in the out tray. Quick Google maps confirms what we all knew, smallish but fairly nice 3/4 bed semi.
He passed his professional qualifications (eventually) - however he lied about completing his RICS accredited degree and therefore shouldn't have been doing it anyway.
He was looking for a job down south, his CV was like a fairytale and it made it's way onto the desk of the head of one of the larger companies, who mentioned it to the head of the company he worked for. It filtered down to his Director and line manager... he'd taken credit for deals he'd not done, somehow they 'let him go' and he got a decent job at a small niche City firm.
King of bullst but seems to have worked for him.
I used to work with a complete arse who lied about his Dad being a multimillionaire, talked about his gatehouse, indoor and outdoor swimming pools. He worked up north as a graduate commercial surveyor and his family lived down south. He talked about going home at the weekend and using the Bentley... the lie of all lies was when he told us his Uncle had died, leaving his £6m Chelsea townhouse to him... that's why he was moving back south.
He played rugby, said he'd been to see his parents one weekend, usual stories upon his return, then I noticed he was sending something to his parents, he was sending it from work and he put it in the out tray. Quick Google maps confirms what we all knew, smallish but fairly nice 3/4 bed semi.
He passed his professional qualifications (eventually) - however he lied about completing his RICS accredited degree and therefore shouldn't have been doing it anyway.
He was looking for a job down south, his CV was like a fairytale and it made it's way onto the desk of the head of one of the larger companies, who mentioned it to the head of the company he worked for. It filtered down to his Director and line manager... he'd taken credit for deals he'd not done, somehow they 'let him go' and he got a decent job at a small niche City firm.
King of bulls
t but seems to have worked for him.Gassing Station | The Lounge | Top of Page | What's New | My Stuff