Tourettes Syndrome
20 April 2002, 11:21 AM
#1
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I think I am finally understanding the different approach that us Brits have towards this terrible condition.
This is the US website
http://www.tourettes.com/
and now the Britsh website
http://www.tourettes.co.uk/
This is the US website
http://www.tourettes.com/
and now the Britsh website
http://www.tourettes.co.uk/
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21 April 2002, 01:36 PM
#12
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THE most politically incorrect thing on Scoobynet at the moment - Keep up the good work!
LSHINSM
(laughed so hard i nearly shat myself)
[Edited by Paul Habgood - 4/21/2002 1:41:09 PM]
LSHINSM
(laughed so hard i nearly shat myself)
[Edited by Paul Habgood - 4/21/2002 1:41:09 PM]
21 April 2002, 06:11 PM
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This Tourettes thing was done a while back as I seem to recall. Someone posted the following...... It made me laugh anyway
This bloke with Tourette's syndrome walks into the most exclusive restaurant in town.
'Where's the p*ss*ng motherf*king manager, you c*cksuking
ars*wipe?' he inquires of one of the waiters.
The waiter is taken-aback and replies, 'Excuse me sir but could you please refrain from using that sort of language in here. I will get the manager as soon as I can'.
The manager comes over and the bloke asks, 'Are you the
chicken-f*cking manager of this b*st*rd place?'
'Yes sir, I am,' replies the manager, 'but I would prefer it if you
could refrain from speaking such profanities in this, a private
restaurant'.
'F*ck off' replies the bloke 'and where's the f*cking piano?'
'Pardon?' says the manager.
'F*cking deaf as well, are we? You snivelling little piece of sh*t, show me your c*nting piano.'
'Ah,' replies the manager, 'you've come about the pianist job' and
shows the bloke to the piano. 'Can you play any blues?'
'Of course I f*cking can,' and the bloke proceeds to play the most
inspiring and beautiful sounding honky-tonk blues that the manager has ever heard.
'That's superb. What's it called?'
'I tried to sh*g yer missus on the sofa but the springs kept hurting my d*ck,' replies the bloke.
The manager is a bit disturbed and asks if the bloke knows any jazz. The bloke proceeds, playing the most melancholy jazz solo the manager has ever heard. 'Magnificent,' cries the manager. 'What's it called?'
'I Wanted a w*nk over the washing machine but I got my b*lls caught in the soap drawer'.
The manager is a tad embarrassed and asks if he knows any romantic ballads. The bloke then plays the most heartbreaking melody the
Manager has ever heard, 'And what's this called?' asks the manager.
'As I f*ck you under the stars with the moonlight shining off your
hairy ring-piece,' replies the bloke
The manager is highly upset by the bloke's language but offers him
The job on condition that he doesn't introduce any of his songs or talk to any of the customers. This arrangement works well for a couple of months until one night, sitting opposite him, is the most gorgeous blonde he has ever laid his eyes on.
She's wearing an almost see through dress, her breasts are almost
Falling out the top of her black lace bra, the skimpy little 'G' string she's wearing is doing very little to conceal her ample charms. She' sitting there with her legs slightly open, sucking suggestively on asparagus shoots as the butter is dripping down her chin. The image is too much for the bloke and he scurries off to the Gents to furiously **********.
He's tugging away furiously when he hears the manager's voice.
'Where's that b*st*rd pianist?'
He just has time to relieve himself, and in a fluster he runs back to the piano having not bothered to adjust himself properly, sits down and starts playing some more tunes.
The blonde steps up and walks over to the piano, leans over and
Whispers in his ear, 'Do you know your kn*b and b*ll*cks are hanging out your trousers and dripping sp*nk on your shoes?'
The bloke replies 'Know it? I f*cking wrote it.'
This bloke with Tourette's syndrome walks into the most exclusive restaurant in town.
'Where's the p*ss*ng motherf*king manager, you c*cksuking
ars*wipe?' he inquires of one of the waiters.
The waiter is taken-aback and replies, 'Excuse me sir but could you please refrain from using that sort of language in here. I will get the manager as soon as I can'.
The manager comes over and the bloke asks, 'Are you the
chicken-f*cking manager of this b*st*rd place?'
'Yes sir, I am,' replies the manager, 'but I would prefer it if you
could refrain from speaking such profanities in this, a private
restaurant'.
'F*ck off' replies the bloke 'and where's the f*cking piano?'
'Pardon?' says the manager.
'F*cking deaf as well, are we? You snivelling little piece of sh*t, show me your c*nting piano.'
'Ah,' replies the manager, 'you've come about the pianist job' and
shows the bloke to the piano. 'Can you play any blues?'
'Of course I f*cking can,' and the bloke proceeds to play the most
inspiring and beautiful sounding honky-tonk blues that the manager has ever heard.
'That's superb. What's it called?'
'I tried to sh*g yer missus on the sofa but the springs kept hurting my d*ck,' replies the bloke.
The manager is a bit disturbed and asks if the bloke knows any jazz. The bloke proceeds, playing the most melancholy jazz solo the manager has ever heard. 'Magnificent,' cries the manager. 'What's it called?'
'I Wanted a w*nk over the washing machine but I got my b*lls caught in the soap drawer'.
The manager is a tad embarrassed and asks if he knows any romantic ballads. The bloke then plays the most heartbreaking melody the
Manager has ever heard, 'And what's this called?' asks the manager.
'As I f*ck you under the stars with the moonlight shining off your
hairy ring-piece,' replies the bloke
The manager is highly upset by the bloke's language but offers him
The job on condition that he doesn't introduce any of his songs or talk to any of the customers. This arrangement works well for a couple of months until one night, sitting opposite him, is the most gorgeous blonde he has ever laid his eyes on.
She's wearing an almost see through dress, her breasts are almost
Falling out the top of her black lace bra, the skimpy little 'G' string she's wearing is doing very little to conceal her ample charms. She' sitting there with her legs slightly open, sucking suggestively on asparagus shoots as the butter is dripping down her chin. The image is too much for the bloke and he scurries off to the Gents to furiously **********.
He's tugging away furiously when he hears the manager's voice.
'Where's that b*st*rd pianist?'
He just has time to relieve himself, and in a fluster he runs back to the piano having not bothered to adjust himself properly, sits down and starts playing some more tunes.
The blonde steps up and walks over to the piano, leans over and
Whispers in his ear, 'Do you know your kn*b and b*ll*cks are hanging out your trousers and dripping sp*nk on your shoes?'
The bloke replies 'Know it? I f*cking wrote it.'
25 April 2002, 11:36 AM
#20
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i know u shouldnt lol but has anyone seen this little device
http://www.rathergood.com/touretteaphone/
dave
http://www.rathergood.com/touretteaphone/
dave
28 April 2002, 04:25 PM
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