tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3318466.post1189736465553530020..comments2024-03-28T04:00:50.360+00:00Comments on Scaryduck: Not Scary. Not a Duck: The Big Issue issueDuck Newshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08244826552838289092noreply@blogger.comBlogger9125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3318466.post-80404437877361544002014-11-16T14:42:14.517+00:002014-11-16T14:42:14.517+00:00Nothing like that has ever happened to me. . . .ju...Nothing like that has ever happened to me. . . .just saying.keithhttp://earlshilton.org.uk/wpnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3318466.post-75912748864131970352014-11-11T06:32:32.576+00:002014-11-11T06:32:32.576+00:00You should have bought him a steak slice - but let...You should have bought him a steak slice - but let a dog drool on it before you gave it to him<br /><br />(Would have probably improved the flavour, to be fair!)Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3318466.post-30521129555143453352014-11-10T19:05:51.207+00:002014-11-10T19:05:51.207+00:00Did you work out what the issue was with the sandw...Did you work out what the issue was with the sandwich, Scaryduck? I can picture someone eschewing a middle-class poncey Waitrose sandwich in favour of something with a bit more heft, but if the usual fare is a Starbucks equivalent then any ethical/class objection carries a lot less weight, somehow.<br /><br />Was it maybe one/some of the ingredients which he doesn't like, and he worded his response badly?<br /><br />Or maybe he was just being an arse, of course? He's only human after all, and is as entitled to act like an arse as the rest of us. In which case you're equally entitled to treat him like one.<br /><br />Hope that helps!Blackouthttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11902762839184498321noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3318466.post-33603418227626553382014-11-10T11:03:24.109+00:002014-11-10T11:03:24.109+00:00One Christmas, we had loads of left over food from...One Christmas, we had loads of left over food from our work Christmas party. It was the last day in for us for two weeks, so we all took huge amounts of left-over food home with us. The local tramp who lived in the underpass at Archway held out his piss-stained hand to me on my way home.<br />"Spare us some change for a sarnie, mate?"<br />"I can do better than that!" I replied and presented him with a bag containing turkey legs, baguettes, fruit, cheese, pickle and much more, with a litre carton of fresh squeezed orange juice and some serviettes and plastic cups.<br />He took it eagerly, looked in the bag, then threw it all across the passageway shouting "What the f*** is this? Ain't you got no booze in there? What kind of a f***ing Christmas party was that, eh? F***in' liberty..."<br />TRThttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18037601963025096788noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3318466.post-43897150022073696382014-11-10T10:52:59.129+00:002014-11-10T10:52:59.129+00:00Scary, You should have told him you didn't lov...Scary, You should have told him you didn't love him enough to buy him a sarnie from StarF*cks.<br />But seriously, you were generous enough to provide him with food. YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO! I'd carry on seething and don't do it again!Sarahnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3318466.post-22204043121062476532014-11-10T10:46:25.659+00:002014-11-10T10:46:25.659+00:00A few years ago, my ex-wife was in tears on the ph...A few years ago, my ex-wife was in tears on the phone to me. Her latest boyfriend, a musician who plays guitar down the acoustically brilliant underpass between the house and the town centre, had deigned to stay over for the third time the previous night, the first two times he had gallantly slept on the sofa. Apparently she had invited him to sleep in her bed, and he accepted, but when she undressed in front of him he declined the offer and left.<br />It probably wasn't the kind of comfort she was wanting when I answered in a surprised tone, "Oh! So beggars <b>can</b> be choosers! Who knew?"*<br /><br /><br /><br />*100% of true story. Yes, I am a bastard.TRThttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18037601963025096788noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3318466.post-13668865169177176822014-11-10T09:19:17.143+00:002014-11-10T09:19:17.143+00:00I drew the line last week at giving to a beggar in...I drew the line last week at giving to a beggar in Reading who wouldn't stop yaking on his mobile phone whilst panhandling.<br /><br />But when I got home I began to ponder on the philosophical conundrum: does one really exist without a mobile phone and a twitter account? Who was I to deny him his humanity? Should I in fact have topped up his Skype account?Washttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08506032658589651155noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3318466.post-1490853633214087342014-11-10T09:16:25.360+00:002014-11-10T09:16:25.360+00:00Surely a Waitrose sandwich is good enough for anyo...Surely a Waitrose sandwich is good enough for anyone?Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3318466.post-90834336023515328382014-11-10T08:55:54.979+00:002014-11-10T08:55:54.979+00:00We have a Romanian woman with a pitch outside our ...We have a Romanian woman with a pitch outside our local high street supermarket. I discovered the other day that she drives thirty miles to get to the pitch in her own car.<br /><br />Now I'm all in favour of people trying to pick themselves up when they're down but she's not homeless, not local and can afford to run a car.<br /><br />Something here isn't right and frankly she's spoiling it for other people who are genuinely in need.Dioclesehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08139646438543954337noreply@blogger.com