Joseph

DEFTLEFTHAND

A Tyrant Named Miltiades! wrote: »

Joesph could have flitted around Nazareth in Mary of Nazareth's petticoats, and he still wouldn't have been as mortifying as people who use the word 'cuck' in a non-ironic sentence....

I know I cringe when I hear it also, a real alt right term. However there is no doubt that Joe from Nazareth was a literal cuckold. The ultimate of the species.

EndaHonesty

I prefer van Bismarck's short stories...

everlast75

Enjoyed your story OP.

My answer is I already donate to 4 charities a month (a tenner each - I'm not a philanthropist) and I have to draw a line somewhere. It's very hard for them to go somewhere from that point. I just tell them that and say thanks anyway

Hammer89

EndaHonesty wrote: »

I prefer van Bismarck's short stories...

Sorry to disappoint you.

Liam McPoyle

My default answer as soon as I open the door to someone trying to sell me something, be it a charity, a utility or what ever is "sorry, I don't sign up for anything on my doorstep"

Have used it countless times and not once has anyone objected.

5uspect

Business Cat wrote: »

My default answer as soon as I open the door to someone trying to sell me something, be it a charity, a utility or what ever is "sorry, I don't sign up for anything on my doorstep"

Have used it countless times and not once has anyone objected.

I’ve started dong this as well. If it becomes the typical response the ****ers might stop.

daheff

Shoulda signed up & given him a fake name & address..... That'll soften his cough.

thesandeman

daheff wrote: »

Shoulda signed up & given him a fake name & address..... That'll soften his cough.

I think he might have figured out the address seeing he was standing at the front door.

Ulysses Gaze

Hammer89 wrote: »

The pasta's in the pot and I'm on the brink of cracking open a bottle of Casillero del Diablo - the makings of a lovely Friday night. With my housemates out on the town, I could finally enjoy a bit of me-time which might have also included a bit of weed and Netflix. Then the doorbell goes, at 7pm. "Who the f*ck is this?" I ask myself.

I open the front door and I'm greeted by a lanky, hairy, grinning hippy with a Oxfam jacket. Here we ****ing go. "Good evening, sir. I'm Joseph." He points to his nametag and smiles, establishing trust. "How are you today?" Today? It's 7 o'clock pal. It's pitch black. Modify your script. I wanted to just go, "Ugh, yeah I'm grand. F*ck off it's not my fault ISIS are recruiting children in Syria", but I didn't.

He continues: "Listen, I'm not here to give you a big speech - I know it's late - but are you aware of what's going on in Syria?" Ten minutes after promising not to give a big speech, he's still talking about Syria, without me saying a word. I'm there nodding away, trying not to laugh; not because the subject itself is funny, but because laughing would've been completely inappropriate and the thought of laughing is funny. He's also from Dundalk or Drogheda and I find that accent completely hilarious. "Every single day, ISIS are bombing areas like this." I think he meant areas of this size, not uptown Sandyford.

He comes to the end of his speech, and for the past five or six minutes I've had my excuse loaded, ready to fire on him. "Can we get you signed up then?" Here we go. "I'd love to, but me and the other half are struggling at the moment and we don't need the added pressure." There is no other half - the most romantic thing I would've done tonight is **** into a sock - but it makes them f*ck off sooner if it's not solely my responsibility. But he chalked this excuse off. "Well we're not asking for money now. It wouldn't come out until January 1st." He obviously purposely omitted this detail, in the expectation that I pulled out the "oh but I'm broke" excuse. "Yeah, you know, even still, it's just after Christmas and I don't know our financial situation will be like."

I've got him by the balls now. Surely him and his clipboard must f*ck off. "Well will you be able to afford a cup of coffee after Christmas?" he goes. "Well, yeah but...." He cuts me off, a bit rude like. "Well that's all it costs to sign up - the price of a cup of coffee." I'm getting a bit angry now, but I'm also polite. "No, we're going to leave it, me and my imaginery partner. I'm not keen on giving out bank details." He had something for this too. "Oh, well, we're not asking for sensitive information, just your bank account number and sort code." He literally said that. "That's as sensitive as my glans, Joseph. I'm afraid the answer is still a resounding NO." I didn't say that last bit.

The good news is that he went away eventually. The bad news is that my kitchen looked like a foam party when I returned because the pasta had over boiled. But this chap, this Joseph, put a downer on my night a bit. Why is it acceptable to bother people on a Friday night? Why is it then acceptable to try bully them into supporting a cause?

Why did you even answer the door?

RhubarbCrumble

Look, the most important question here is whether or not he was wearing an amazing technicolour dreamcoat. So?

Hammer89

Ulysses Gaze wrote: »

Why did you even answer the door?

I didn't do much wrong here to be fair. I didn't have any reason to think it was going to be a charity case, based on what time and day it was. It was the very end of a working week, and if I ran a charity I wouldn't have my team of beggars going door-to-door after dark on a Friday night.

It doesn't even make sense because customers are more likely to be a bit pissed off at the cheek of it all and less likely to help child soldiers in Syria.

Roger Hassenforder

I'm morto for you drinking a Casillero del Diablo. On your own.
Wouldn't water the plants with it

Hammer89

Roger Hassenforder wrote: »

I'm morto for you drinking a Casillero del Diablo. On your own.
Wouldn't water the plants with it

This time two years ago it would've been a cold can of some €1 cider, some 9% thing which makes so pissed that you're headbutting the drywall after about six sups over something which happened in primary school and was never addressed, but at 28, I've evolved. Sue me

Edward M

Roger Hassenforder wrote: »

I'm morto for you drinking a Casillero del Diablo. On your own.
Wouldn't water the plants with it

That would be a desperate waste!

thelad95

Only solution is to answer the door bollock naked and say you’re ‘otherwise occupied’. Nearly always does the trick.

Badly Drunk Boy

Something I've said a few times before (and it was true once) was that "I'm just heading out the door so I don't have the time." It might depend on your state of dress, though. If you had no footwear, and only one sock on, it mightn't be believable.

"Where's your other sock?" asked Joseph. "This girlfriend you mentioned...eh..."

daheff

thesandeman wrote: »

I think he might have figured out the address seeing he was standing at the front door.

And tell him your name is also Joseph !

IF he queries it ask him to prove thats not your real name & address.

Choochtown

Badly Drunk Boy wrote: »

Something I've said a few times before (and it was true once) was that "I'm just heading out the door so I don't have the time." It might depend on your state of dress, though. If you had no footwear, and only one sock on, it mightn't be believable.

"Where's your other sock?" asked Joseph. "This girlfriend you mentioned...eh..."

Ah but that doesn't always work!

nostro

Will my donation be used to pay for hookers for Oxfam employees in Haiti ? might be apt in light of recent disclosures.

s7ryf3925pivug

That was really good, like a bit from a Ross O’Carroll Kelly book.

JohnnyFlash

Myla Cuddly Reptile wrote: »

One feels the lily has been somewhat over gilded and the pudding over-egged in that story.

You always so sour amigo??? Give it a rest.....

Hammer89

Pero_Bueno wrote: »

So what did you watch on Netflix ?

Hammer89 wrote: »

Last Men in Aleppo. F*cking terrible what's going on over there. We need to do more.

Not being egotistical but this made me laugh quite a bit (not the film).