pedant
This sounds too good to be true, but is actually true:

My then-girlfriend: I'm sick of your pedanticism!
Me: pedantry.

This was the same gf with whom I had a screaming argument about whether it'd be better to have a time machine or an anarchist revolution.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Mon 5 Feb 2007, 11:00, Reply)

I can't help myself!
"I have decided to become a vegetarian and only buy Free Trade products."

free trade's the bad kind of trade...
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Mon 5 Feb 2007, 10:59, Reply)

apleoverage: how do YOU spell pedant?
1 P, 2D's?
(mickturate if i could be arsed i'd be bored, Mon 5 Feb 2007, 10:21, Reply)

I smell, apparently
A girl in my class in Year 5 was foolish enough to keep her diary in her drawer, which was directly below mine, meaning that every time I opened it her diary stared tantalisingly up at me. It was one of those pink things with a padlock that had "My Secret Diary" on the cover. She was foolish enough to leave the key to the aforementioned padlock in her drawer too. What intelligent person wouldn't take it upon themselves to stay behind after class for some illicit reading material?

Monday: Back to school again, another five days with grandmasterfluffles. She's so ugly and she thinks she's so clever. I hate her.

Tuesday: Had to work with grandmasterfluffles in history. EURGH!

Wednesday: grandmasterfluffles thinks she's so clever.

Thursday: grandmasterfluffles really smells.

Friday: We went swimming today. grandmasterfluffles has a nasty swimming costume from Oxfam and she can't swim.

Saturday: SO glad it's the weekend and I don't have to put up with grandmasterfluffles for TWO WHOLE DAYS!

Alas, it's true - I was ugly and I had a swimming costume from Oxfam. Dammit.
(grandmasterfluffles Come to my Armageddon party on, Mon 5 Feb 2007, 10:06, Reply)

Medical records
Way back in the day before bitterness really set in i was a scruffy student at uni, where i had a brief temping job at an NHS trust site. My main duty other than helping the other lazy tossers smoke and bitch about the fatty in the office was down in the mail room sorting all the medical records into their appropriate GPs surgery. Sadly despite searching i never found any of my mates records but i did discover that an alarming number of people have serious bum issues.

It was also the place where i invented Medical Record Top Trumps.....Bad Aids For Ten
(i anglepoise, Mon 5 Feb 2007, 9:44, Reply)

Diary of an Emo
Monday: No milk for my cereal ... there's no God! I went immediately on MySpace and wrote a poem about it so my 23,000 friends could share. The first line was, "No milk, no God, no hope - I am special." Then I cried a bit and had some toast instead.

Monday PM: Some guys at school laughed at me because I had some traces of eye-liner from the weekend. I quoted My Chemical Romance as they kicked me to the floor and thus secured the moral high ground. They wil not crush my spirit.

Tuesday: I have adopted a new look. My asymmetrical haircut is now beautifully set off with a red scarf and a black and white striped jumper. I bought a Corpse Bride bag from the hippy shop in town and ripped off the toes of my All Stars to appear more bohemian. Wait til they see me!

Tuesday PM: EVERYBODY is wearing the same outfit! I went to the toilets and stabbed myself a few times with my compass. Nobody noticed, so I moaned and cried a bit louder until someone banged on the door and asked if was OK. Then I felt better.

Wednesday: My parents don't understand me. I told them that death is my friend. I'm not afraid of the End - no, I welcome it with open arms; I embrace it with cold and bloodless arms. "But I only asked you if you wanted a pocket-money increase!" yelled my mom. She doesn't understand.

Wednesday: I got the increase and spent £50 on a signed photo of Richey Manic. I have framed it and put candles either side. He is my muse. He knew how to live life to the full ... by dying, obviously. I have decided to become a vegetarian and only buy Fair Trade products.

Wednesday PM: Got some great bargains at Tesco. Black t-shirts for just £3! When I got home, Dad made me suicidal by laughing at my Richey Manic shrine. He said, "Who's that poof in make-up, then?" I told him that I'm a 'poof' and that, like Richey, I am going to die young and tragically. "Well, clean your room first," he said. He doesn't understand.

EDIT: corrected on the advice of Prof. Apeloverage.
(frankspencer, Mon 5 Feb 2007, 9:40, Reply)

I got a large block of tofu

and put my most secret thoughts on it using chili sauce.

Yes, it was a vegan diary substitute.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Mon 5 Feb 2007, 5:53, Reply)

In Soviet Russia
diary reads you!
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Mon 5 Feb 2007, 3:15, Reply)

QUOTE:
"Then I LOLed because it was so funny."

surely it should be LedOL?
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Mon 5 Feb 2007, 3:15, Reply)

Not so much
a diary but a distubing look into someone else's mind.

I used to work in a bar on Oxford St. One day a bag was handed in to us, and what with the way things are we checked it for bombs.

Inside sat a small number of items. A newspaper, two job applications, one for a postman's position and one to work for MI5. A locking penknife, with the blade modified so that it now came to a sharp, stabby point. Two minidisks.

At the bottom there were four rectangles of card, the labels you get in factories and warehouses, with the part numbers and quantities on one side and a blank reverse. The owner of the bag had written some poetry 'pon this empty space.

There were four. The first was quite happy-go-lucky, and danced playfully around his belief that money was not important for a happy life.

The middle two were slightly bitter, and you got the impression that he was agrieved by something or someone.

The fourth detailed how the burning, blinding rage inside his head was about to boil over into a psychopathic murdering spree involving his 'trusty twelve gauge' and he was going to blast 'them all' both barrels.

Being a good citizen I did the socially responsable thing and took them to the police, lest anyone be hurt. Actually, I didn't. I just showed them to my colleagues, we had a laugh, and I kept them. And the minidisks too in the end, as they were never claimed.

I still have those four poems somewhere. They sit in a box unattended, like the stiffening, mutilated bodies of his (possible) victims.
(cs1ca, Mon 5 Feb 2007, 2:06, Reply)

I once caught Stephen Hawkings reading my diary
I heard him from 3 blocks away the insensitive sod.
(Fatima Whitbread's hardon drugs and the causes of drugs, Mon 5 Feb 2007, 1:55, Reply)

phone
found a mobile at work a few days back, guessed (correctly) it was my mates so, as it had a camera on I thought Id have a look for some dirty pics of his wife...NOT ONE. Just his frickin Kids.

Baaah humbug.
(kitescreech still here, Mon 5 Feb 2007, 1:15, Reply)

slutty girl
oh man just found some old school books it just has hundreds of ladies names and and guys names scored out underneath


but hey im the last name so thats gotta be something


but another thing the lady in question was for want of a better expression "muntered" so i might just score my name out this one
(DELMINKYMANKYFUNKYMONKEY Meh!!, Mon 5 Feb 2007, 0:08, Reply)

.
Anne Frank read MY diary.
(Alexxx It wasn't me, Sun 4 Feb 2007, 23:32, Reply)

never the same again
Many years ago a female friend left her diary at my place and having found it I had to have a peek. (I was egged on by my ex-wife, so the guilt is less.) Anyway it was the usual teen angst stuff, which was a bit sad cause said mate was in her early 30s by then, and then we hit paydirt, stuff about her boyf. Now this boyf was actually a mate of mine, and the only reason I knew her, so this impacts on him more than her. It was the imagery and euphisms that got me.
"I am the pure crystal fire" she wrote, "and I see him as the waterfall. The waterfall deluges the Crystal fire but cannot quench it's inner flame."
It went on like that for too long.
Sickmakingly cloying, and now the two of them (long since parted) are known as Crystalfire and waterfall behind their backs. Well I had to share didn't I?

Never saw the two of them the same way again, and in some ways this stuff was worse than graphic shag imagery.

I don't keep a diary, but if I did it would be too filthy and embarrassing for words.
(Mr Steve is jobless and fancyfree!, Sun 4 Feb 2007, 22:29, Reply)

Oh the Humanity
I managed (after a good 20 minutes of effort) to discover the location of my sis's diary. i'd like to point out at this moment she happens to be 13 years my senior. Any way long story short, i came across a diary entry telling me she had had and abortion. the next few days were NOT fun.

Moral of the story, do not mistake your sisters english copy for her diary.
(Mark3y needs to put some welly in to it, Sun 4 Feb 2007, 22:27, Reply)

i schoolmate and i...
once managed to crack into a fellow schoolmates e-mail account. the twat that he was meant that is was quite easy as it was his fat ugly girlfriends name.

after browsing for a second or two we came across this little beauty he had sent to the afore-mentioned girlfriend:

"hey babe, i missed you this morning. thanks for the pussy cob last night...wink wink."

ive never felt so ill...ive also never felt so guilty at making "cob" gags for the rest of the year and telling our film studies tutor who found it even funnier than we did.
(the ben, Sun 4 Feb 2007, 20:37, Reply)

Oh noes.
I felt just awful when I read my sis's diary. Then I LOLed because it was so funny.

Jan. 3rd, 2007:
"I like this boy in my class. He sits next to me in art, too. One time, in art class, he farted really loud and I thought it was funny. He is cute."

Flatulence--the tie that binds. Or whatever.
**insert guilt at reading little sis's diary here**
(Mademoiselle Dustman picked a bouquet of oopsie daisies for you on, Sun 4 Feb 2007, 19:01, Reply)

I read...
b3ta.
and in no way should I feel ashamed.
but I do.
maybe I wouldn't if you click I like this.


sorry sorry sorry
(littlenipple hate's bad grammar, Sun 4 Feb 2007, 18:05, Reply)

many years after leaving school,
I found myself in a position to look at the records of every former pupil's from the last 40 years or so, as they lay in cardboard boxes ready for the tip.

Reading mine, I was horrified at the load of bollocks I found about me. I was insolent, dirty, dishonest, lazy, in fact there wasn't a vice that I didn't revel in. If it were all true I'd be in prison by now!

I stole it and stil have it somewhere. I also stole my older sister's and gave it to her, but she was so afraid of finding out what the bastards had written about her that she destroyed it unread. Wish I'd kept it to give to her son now. A fellow b3tan would know how to handle it.

Another time, when my ex-husband was out, I walked into our bedroom to find - oops, sorry, our b3tan daughter was foolish enough to admit that she'd 'found' me on here so I cannot share any more ex-related anecdotes.
Pity, as I have some corkers.
(Juan Quar is clinging to her front teeth on, Sun 4 Feb 2007, 14:56, Reply)

i've never read anyone's diary
now fuck off
(hieronymus bosch pcmechanic 4ver in ar harts, goodnite sweet angle, Sun 4 Feb 2007, 13:28, Reply)

I seem to...
...have accidentally read the same cunting joke about Anne Frank fifty times. Either that, or this QOTW is already getting tedious.

And breathe.

I 'accidentally' read a deeply personal letter to a colleague of mine, from a girlfriend who was splitting up with him, and how she wished he would remain faithful as she really liked him. She went on to describe in great detail the time they came into the office over the weekend, and "christened" every desk in the building.

I cleaned my own desk thoroughly that night. I'm not sure if I am glad I snooped or not.
(Captain Skippy pooed in a bag and left it on your doorstep, Sun 4 Feb 2007, 13:12, Reply)

I read...
Anne Franks diary.
Wish I hadn't.
Who thought a novelization of hide & seek could be so depressing?
(Good Looking Deity Grew a magnificent beard on, Sun 4 Feb 2007, 12:58, Reply)

Well now I just feel inadequate...
... because I don't have a "discovering sordid sexual secrets, rampant drug abuse or dark family secrets" story to share.

But I do have a "my diary got read" story to share, despite obvious crapness.

The Backstory

When I was about 8, the final nail in the "does Santa exist" coffin was when I discovered all the Christmas presents that I and my brothers would be getting that year, in my mum and dad's room. To my credit, I hadn't been snooping (at least not the first time). We had just moved in to a new house, and I was showing a family friend all the rooms, in the over excited way only a child can. I opened the door to the en suite bathroom (there's posh) and noticed the huge pile of brightly coloured things piled up in the shower.

I asked "what are they?" and my parents with unseemly haste slammed the door shut and told me to forget it. Naturally, my curiosity was piqued, so it wasn't really snooping when I went back, despite having to pick the lock to get in...

So how does this relate to the QOTW? Well, my mum and dad quickly found out about this. I had always assumed I had made a mess, moved things around, or something similar to give the game away.

Oh no, years later when talking to my parents about this (and laughing about it) my mum revealed that she found out because I was stupid enough to write an entire diary entry about my discoveries.

I was shocked. "Why were you reading my diary!!!"

To which my mum's comeback was "Well you were the little genius who left it lying on your desk when you were at school, open at the page about the presents in bright red pen!"

Criminal mastermind? Not so much...

I should be glad it was my diary at the age of 8, rather than my diary from my mid-teens...
(lawofnations, Sun 4 Feb 2007, 12:30, Reply)

My contribution
Found my old diary a few years back, usual Teenage Angst shit. I did mention the Jamaican Bobsleigh team (re-made as "Cool Runnings" for the cinema) which was odd, as I saw the film and it didnt trigger any memories of having seen it on TV.

Off topic, has anyone here ever created a p0rn stash under a tree / in a wood ? And if so, why ? I chucked a load of my p0rn in the canal once.
(kitescreech still here, Sun 4 Feb 2007, 12:15, Reply)

Dairies eh?
My Uncle Bill runs a cracking Dairy in St.helens, he employs twelve other Milk-persons, who do a bloody good job.

He get's up at 3AM and says he isn't human unless he's had three cups of coffee.

Being a milkman, he is also the proud father of 3,840 Children.

He once took me on a tour of his dairy and I discovered his milk churner (!)

Since the pedestrianisation of the rear end of St.helens (behind the town hall), one of the said milk-persons had to quit his job, due to his round now taking four days instead of the typical two hours. This is due to the bloody one way system. .

In my uncles Dairy, there are no less than 100,000,0000,0000,0000,0000,000000 milk bottles at any one time.

Dairy's are brilliant!


* oh wait... Diaries...
(mr-lizard Hell's teeth man!, Sun 4 Feb 2007, 11:03, Reply)

MYOB
Read my dads diary when I was ~13. Only scattered notes, but disturbed to read his (unhappy) thoughts about my mum. Resented him for it until he died ~6 years later.

My mum read mine when I was ~16. Usual thing... my diary goes missing, turns up in mums bedside drawers where I was looking for spare keys - sif snooping because that would be bad... Resented her for it, and still do to some extent - some 25 years on.

Draw your own conclusions.

She also nicked/confiscated some absolutely kick ass weed I had in my drawer at about the same time (prob worried about me after reading my diary... fair call as a parent but don't read the fucking thing in the first place thanks). I used to know my weed pretty well, and this was top shelf plus primo! So I went and bought some cheap leafy cabbage shit and swapped it over.

We both had our silent victories.

Probably should tell her about it some day. You only get one mum (and dad) after all...
( enoughblueskyforsailorstrousers, Sun 4 Feb 2007, 9:09, Reply)

number 3
Last winter my pc crashed and as it was still under warranty I sent it away to be completely overhauled. This left me in a bit of a pickle regarding university work but I managed to bribe my flatmate (with weed and JD, much more effective than money!) into letting me use his.

Possibly not my smartest move, as i managed to lose a powerpoint presentation i had downloaded and had to go searching through all his files for it.

I eventually found it in a folder marked with a spanish phrase (which i now know to be "Private, fuck off") among several pictures and movies of his then gf, monthly compiled sex diaries and movies of various rude things he liked to watch on the internet.

I read a good few months of his comments on his almost daily masturbation and the infrequent visits from the gf and other girls at university. Ther was only one phrase that stuck in my mind, as I've mentally blocked every other memory of the experience out....

"shame [name of gf] was on the rag but least we tried somethin new, chucked all the tampons and shitty condoms into skip outside after [monsieur_flange] nearly found them in bin, told her about it she suggested askin him to join next time, bought more lube"


Apologies for, well, just clicking "post this message" really.
( Mister B is eating an icanhazcheezburger with lmaonaise, Sun 4 Feb 2007, 8:56, Reply)

number 2
About 3 months after splitting up with my ex (3 months she decided to spend drunkenly turning up at my flat, ringing, texting tellin me how much she loved me etc.) I went round to hers to collect some of my old stuff which our mutual friends (her housemates) had borrowed. She also asked me to have a look at some stuff on her pc (antivirus etc.) and have a crack at validating her flatmates copy of windows (long story). Both of which i dutifully did because i'm a nice person.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, I went for a cup of tea and when i came back she had been checking her e-mails and left her inbox open when i came to look a the pc again. I was treated to a whole manner of sordid "what we got up to last night" and "can we do it again sometime" type messages from two (count them) blokes, one of which she worked with and one of which i had never heard of!

Slightly red faced I finished what i had to do and went to work on the housemates pc. On finishing and restarting the pc what should happen but MSN messenger automatically sign in. I carried on working oblivious until a little conversation window opened showing the name of my ex (no doubt in her room upstairs)....

"hey you, has he gone yet? i cant be arsed goin out 2nite and (names of the two new blokes) stil arent around, u fancy comin upstairs when evry1s gone ;)"

This was just about all I could stand so i calmly gathered up my things and went up to her room to say goodbye. On the stairs i paused and considered saying something, formulated some words in my head and turned to knock on the door, which was when i noticed the unopened Freeview box and Friends box sets i had bought for her before we broke up.

Apologies for nothing, the cow caught an STD of fgod knows who and got herseld barred from a good number of bars and clubs in Newcastle in which i have connections.

*Length: The episodes are about half an hour long, about 250 episodes in total, you do the math. Although they are showing Friends non-stop on E4 now!*
( Mister B is eating an icanhazcheezburger with lmaonaise, Sun 4 Feb 2007, 8:43, Reply)

No greatly amusing experiences like others,
But I feel that I must share. It's therapeutic.
-Going through my mother's closet, found a little book, apparently a diary she kept when she was pregnant with me.
Nothing scary, except for her vividly detailed account of my uncle's death(he fell off a cliff, if you must know).
I knew he died before I was born, but I previously didn't know how.

-Borrowed a notebook from a classmate when I was 11, to find a page used up near the back.
A really badly drawn picture. Of me(He spelled my name wrong). Naked, it seemed.
I steered clear of him for a long time.
He smelled like cheese anyway.
( trintrin has jam for blood, Sun 4 Feb 2007, 2:52, Reply)