Sixth form
Not as funny as others i've just read, but heres mine.

Way back in sixth form, I was in 'that' group, you know? The one that likes all the computer games and handheld gaming things... The socially awkward nerdy group.
It consisted of Joe, Daniel and me. We would always chill round each others houses, avoid girls and tirelessly play playstation or have nintendo battles.

Instead of, you know, outside...


Anyway, after my turn of having them round I found Daniel's phone, forgotten. Curious, and feeling up to no good, I had a look through his texts.
I found one between Daniel and Joe that said "Do you want to tell isnotmyPIN about us? or do you think he's better off not knowing?" and Joe replying "idk i dont want it weird". This piqued my interest but I found nothing else on his phone that could elaborate cause it ran out of battery and was mostly texts from his mum...
I still dont really know what it was about, I never broached the subject cause he would have been pissed off I looked on his phone.
It could really mean anything, maybe they were in a relationship with each other? Moving away? Doing drugs? In a cult?
Its probably something simple, but since we dont talk much after going to uni, you cant just bring it up in conversation.

I guess i'll never know.
( 6821isnotmyPIN Bored cig., Sun 28 Aug 2011, 3:01, 3 replies)

Nosy little bugger...

( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Sun 28 Aug 2011, 1:51, Reply)

Surely I'm not the only one...
to have overheard this exchange?

"No, I am your father."
"No...no... that's not true... that's impossible."
"Search your feelings, you know it to be true"
(Ferradura pitching curveballs from leftfield, Sat 27 Aug 2011, 21:46, 1 reply)

Oldlady1:we've got a lovely quiche for dinner this evening
Oldlady2: yes we have haven't we dear
Oldlady1: it does look nice
Oldlady2: oh it does
Oldlady1: could we eat the whole quiche?
Oldlady2: oh I don't know
Oldlady1: maybe half
Oldlady2: yes dear maybe half
Oldlady1: it does look good though
Oldlady2: it does dear we could eat it all
Oldlady1: that would be naughty
Oldlady2: it would maybe half then
Oldlady1: oh I don't know it's such a nice quiche...
Then I had to get off the train, I reckon they scoffed the lot.
( BindiBaji, Sat 27 Aug 2011, 18:01, 1 reply)

I used to work in 10 Downing Street a few years ago
Doing admin and stuff. One time I overheard the then Prime Minister saying he "only did it for the Earl". Whatever that means.
(TheManWithThePlan cussed your mum on, Sat 27 Aug 2011, 17:13, 3 replies)

Not So Much "Overheard" Secrets, But Discreetly Seen Secrets
About a decade ago, I worked as a minilab operator at a photo developing place. This was still in the days of film cameras being used by all and sundry, and the only way to see what photos you'd taken was to present them to me (or my ilk).

There was the pretty lady who always scowled as she walked past - sexy but scary. One day she brought in a disposable camera, some snaps included some strange living room topless dancing, with her, a mate and some swarthy bloke. Scowl scowl scowl scowl TITS scowl scowl scowl.

There was the Japanese gentleman who brought in an entire roll of film containing blurry, underlit, unfocused shots of his lady friend's private parts.

And always amusing were young ladies' Ibiza photos. They would bring in their disposable cameras containing all the memories that a fortnight's worth of booze and drugs had erased. Daughter would pick up her photos, inevitably with mum and dad in tow. Every time the same thing... "Here's me at the airport. Here's me and Kylie on the beach. Here's our hotel room. Here's me topless with a dozen sweaty leering tumescent lads." Short lived secret that one.
(theremin put the lotion in the basket on, Sat 27 Aug 2011, 16:13, 2 replies)

Overheard and i pity the cleaner...
Back in 1982 I was a student in Brighton; the halls of residence had closed early so we were put up for a couple of weeks in a very nice hotel along the sea side. One week an important family from an African nation were staying in the entire top floor of the hotel. It was their first trip to the UK (or anywhere outside Africa).
One morning over breakfast I overheard a couple of worried looking hotel staff chattering to themselves..
"We've got to tell them..."
"Yeah you're right... but..."
"before it's too late!"
"it already is god you can smell it on the floor below"
"you know we've got to empty them first, don't you......?"
"Pity the poor bastard who gets THAT gig!".
The following day the two were chatting again, one of them looking a little grey.
The healthy one started..
"How bad?"
"please i've puked enough...."
"Did they understand??"
"Yeah now they do they thought it was funny as hell"
"You ok?"
"I'm quitting i'm not paid for this shit"
I asked around and got the full story.
It turns out the African family hadn't used flushable toilets; they had asked what they should use and the hotel staff showed them... except they'd left out the part about how to flush them.
They had used the toilets for a full week, a family of ten adults, and they had filled up. And overflowed. And still they used them.
The grey looking chap had the task of a) showing them how to use the flush and b)... oh you can guess the rest yes?
(DustyD, Sat 27 Aug 2011, 15:25, 6 replies)

Neighbours..
I frequently overheard my new neighbour shout abuse and threats at his poor girlfriend who screamed for him to stop. This went on for a few weeks. After one particulary bad night in which banging could be heard all night he came to apologise for disturbing me. His excuse was he'd got a rabbit cage up against a wall and the rabbits fought causing the cage to bang against the wall. He told me to keep my mouth shut and tried to frighten me into silence.
I reported this to my landlord and he'd had other reports from other neighbours too. Thankfully the next I heard was he had been charged with domestic abuse and she was safe in a womens hostel.
Apologies for lack of funny, but the abuse I overheard haunted me and still does. The fact I was a young female living on my own scared me into silence to begin with but once I reported it I realised I had nothing to be scared of, he couldn't touch me. If only I'd done it sooner
(NotSaying lurking is fun, Sat 27 Aug 2011, 13:12, 3 replies)

New Job, New phone
I'd just started a new job at some crappy council many years ago.
The job itself was doing admin in the personnel office, so I was stuck in a little room with three old biddys.

This was my first proper office job with my own desk and phone.
On the first day I was still getting used to a phone that had extra buttons on the side (for forwarding, speaker phone, quick dial etc).

Anyway, my then (mentalist) gf called me up to see how my new job was going. As we chatted, someone came in with some boxes for me to sign for.
I asked her what she fancied doing tonight and at the same time put her on speakerphone so I could sign for the boxes and still hear her.

"I want you to fuck me up the arse till I scream your name."

Needless to say, I didn't work in that office for very long (plus she never did let me do her up the botty after I told her what had happened).
(EvilMeister, Sat 27 Aug 2011, 11:22, 3 replies)

I used to be a global email administrator
Things I've discovered whilst trying to debug problems:

My boss liked twinks.
A colleague had a passion for school girl spanking videos.
A girl trader had a massive collection of 'kick in the balls' porn.
That sweet girl from the 7th floor with curly blonde hair and a personality like sunshine, also liked to be anally fisted.

One of my favourite exchanges was between a group of traders and a new guy on the team.
The email exchange was to the whole team and went something like this:

Wankie trader : "Haha Bas your so gay its untrue."
Bas : "I'm really not comfortable with such homophobic comments in the workplace"
Wankie trader : "Is that cos u like cock."
Bas : "look this is really unacceptable that you keep on questioning my sexuality."
Wankie trader : "Do you like to give or receive?"
Bas : "This is like being at school."
Wankie trader : "You can report me to sir if you like, or would u prefer to suck his cock."
Bas : "FFS Ok so wot, I'm gay. If you carry on talking to me like this I will report you to personnel"
Wankie trader : "HAHAHA BAS LIKES COCK HAHAHAHA!"

About 30 minutes later

Wankie Trader : "Uhm this was a joke right? You're not really a bender?"
(EvilMeister, Sat 27 Aug 2011, 11:14, 1 reply)

I kind of wish I hadn't.
My friend's brother, I guess I'll call him Pete*, is a bit of a special case. He's got Aspergers, and rather than any sort of Rain Man-esque skill, he's just very socially awkward and and does drugs with a single minded passion. With his condition, heavy pot smoking and acid use does little to help him make very good decisions, and he usually makes some hilariously bad ones on a regular basis.

One day, I was hanging out with a mutual friend, when he called up Pete and put him on speaker phone. After Pete and I had said hello, he went back to ignoring me, and later seemed genuinely surprised to learn that I had heard everything he had said. The conversation went like this:

"Hey, Pete, we were looking to hang out, what are you doing?"
"Nothing, but you know that thing I was talking about the other night, Fred?"
"Getting a hooker?"
"Yeah. I went on google, and typed in 'hot, sexy black escorts, in Craptown, New York,' and it worked. Now I know what sex feels like."
"Oh...I don't know what to say Pete, I guess how'd it go?"
"It was pretty good. First I went down on her, then we had sex when I was done."

I half wish I hadn't heard that one, funny as I found it. I don't know which is worse, though, going down on a hooker, or finding one on google.

*Names have been changed for obvious reasons.
( Ithyphallophobia, Sat 27 Aug 2011, 8:07, 2 replies)

Since we're sharing campground stories...
This summer we went traveling with our pop-up camper. We spent several nights at each campground, usually in fairly close proximity to our neighbors.

One night we got new neighbors, a rather fit young couple in a dome tent. We never spoke, but they seemed nice enough- cuddling at the lake shore, sitting together by the fire, all that.

They got into their tent, and after the predictable shadow show of them undressing (no sexing, though) their lights went out and all became quiet. As we had slept well the night before, we were sitting up by the fire quietly talking when the stillness of the night was shattered by flatulence of bovine proportions. All was silent again for a few moments, then the sound of feminine giggling started from the tent, followed a moment later by him following suit.

So the overheard secret was that hot girls do in fact fart. Loudly.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Sat 27 Aug 2011, 5:59, Reply)

Are there any friendly teddy bears out there ?
As a young lad I spent a few years as an RAF cadet, great fun. One summer we're spending a couple of weeks at RAF Sealand and someone's planned a game for us.
It was basically Capture The Flag, red team advance on an objective guarded by blue team and try to nick it. Only we're doing this at night.
The Blues (me) were outnumbered 2:1 but we were equipped with walkie-talkies to coordinate our defence. The (adult) flight sergeant assigned to supervise Blue team decided his time would be better spent propping up the bar at the local NAAFI and he brought his radio along in case things went pear shaped.
Two hours later. Two long, cold, wet, dark and very boring hours later we hadn't seen anything of Red Team when a voice came over the radio, it was one of our lads who was obviously as bored as I was. "Are there any friendly teddy bears out there ?"
A few moments silence was broken by another lad on the radio, "Yes, I'm a friendly teddy bear."
Then another, "I'm a friendly teddy bear too." "Me too, I'm a very friendly teddy bear." "I'm the friendliest teddy bear ever." Then someone started singing The Teddy Bears Picnic.
Now our irate and slightly sozzled Flight Sergeant came on the air and promptly turned it blue. He effed and blinded a lot about messing about with official RAF kit then added a few more adult type words that were educational to a 14 year old and judging by the backround laughter were entertaining to the NAAFI barflys.
When he finished his tirade the radios were silent for a full minute then a very quiet voice was heard, "Well you're not a very friendly teddy bear are you ?"
Apparently the NAAFI erupted in laughter. It didn't help that Flight's first name was Edward and when we went back the next year he was known to his peers as Flight Sergeant Bear.
(draxen, Sat 27 Aug 2011, 3:43, 2 replies)

Alfred Hitchcock
Not my story but...
Alfred Hitchcock was in London in the 70s scouting out locations with a couple of his assistants. They got into an elevator near the top of a posh hotel, there was a young couple already inside, by their bug eyes they'd obviously recognised the director.
As the lift descended everyone's looking up at the floor indicator and avoiding eye contact, as you do, when Hitchcock stage whispers to one of his people, "I didn't think the old man would bleed so much."
Cue another minute or so of *very* uncomfortable silence and when the doors opened the young couple legged it at a rapid rate of knots.
(draxen, Sat 27 Aug 2011, 3:20, Reply)

Ms M
I was alone in a quiet study room attached to my sixth form common room a few months ago when a PE teacher (Miss C; not actual initial) brought 2 members of the netball team in.

They obviously didn't see me as they began to talk about a member of the PE staff (Ms M; not actual initial)'s frequent absences, about passing a card around the netball team.

It turned out that this teacher had breast cancer.

Just before Miss C left, she told the 2 girls that, understandably, they shouldn't tell anyone outside of the netball team. At this point I stood up and said, 'I won't tell anyone either'.
None of them noticed I had been there until now; they smiled.

And I didn't tell anyone. I only speak now because Ms M passed away on Thursday (25th August).

By the way, this is my first post on here ever; maybe I haven't really mastered the art of making good answers
(MOTOR Master Of The Open Road, Sat 27 Aug 2011, 1:41, 11 replies)

Training Dogs The Shitehouse Way
I don't know why but all my favourite overhearings happened in Wisbech, jewel of the Fens.

The wife once lived in a tiny one-bedroom house there. Perfect size for her, but a surprising choice for the family next door; A lovely old couple, their grown-up son and a very lively dog. They all had strong Norfolk accents (yes, even the dog). Imagine the Wurzels, only slightly angrier.

Anyhow, one day I overheard a wonderful bit of impromptu dog obedience training, drifting through their patio doors;

*WOOF! WOOF! WOOF! WOOF!*
*CRASH*
"YOU LITTLE TWAAAAAAT!!!!"
(costas, Fri 26 Aug 2011, 22:32, 4 replies)

At Glastonbury...
2 o'clock in the morning, in my tent, whilst 3 west country lads were outside by their own tent.
West Country Lad 1 (WCL1) : "Have you met WCL3's sister yet?"
WCL2 : "No, what she like?"
WCL1 : "Lovely. Bit chubby, but she's got a lovely smile. Loves a bit of cock."
WCL3 : "OY! that's my sister you're talking about."
WCL1 : "It's true though, isn't it?"
WCL3 : Disappointed "Yeah..."
(GhostAtTheFeast Soup Sir?, Fri 26 Aug 2011, 21:59, Reply)

Reading "Wet-chinned bag shanker" (get a shorter name) story reminds me of my radio.
It was the same thing, spinning the dial one day, and I found out I could hack into the cordless phone line. Was very useful for keeping up to date with what was going on in the house (as no one tells me anything)

Anyway, this story happened many years ago. My sister was on the phone to her friend. (Who were both about 14 at the time.) Whenever her friend came around her, she'd always try to be flirty with me. Usually I'd play along, and had been giving it a bit of thought about trying to do ask her out (I'm was 15 at the time.) But this phone call changed my mind about her for good. This is what I heard (Names changed.)

Dantina (My sis): Heya Young Slut (her friend), how's you?
Young Slut: I'm in trouble. I need, like, serious help.
Dantina: Why, what's up?
Young Slut: I'm pregnant again. Need to get it an aborted before mummy and daddy find out.
Me: WTF....wait....did she just say again!!

Turned out, young slut had been pregnant half a year before that but mummy and daddy found out, made her abort it, and threaten that if she'd do it again. She'd be kicked out. This one was with another fella as well, from what I overheard (and from various conversations, she seemed to be the town bicycle).

I lost a lot of interest in Young Slut then, and stopped flirting with her whenever she came around. Also her and my sis are no longer friends, but that is another QOTW.
(Dante licked your nipple on, Fri 26 Aug 2011, 21:57, 5 replies)

muder oh shit
the girl living next door to me, is constantly rowing loudly with her boyf and also then loudly shagging him, he sounds like a knob head banging on her door and shouting about her being a slag etc and hes gunna beat her up. she seems to know he has another woman, anyway one day i over hear him threatening her etc and calls her the town bike and threaten her, me being brave steps out into my yard ready to go next door and tell him im sick of hearing him shout in street etc, at which point she shouts "at least i didnt murder that lad in ireland" at which point i leg it inside liek a good brave lad leaving them to argue!
(funksoul, Fri 26 Aug 2011, 21:53, Reply)

"I like five, actually."
"It's just a nice little compromise between four and six."
( kikilookeylikey, Fri 26 Aug 2011, 21:26, 1 reply)

Not quite a secret, but what the hell.
A friend and I were enjoying an evening meal in a largely empty beer hall in Munich when a middle-aged Australian couple entered and sat down. The couple talked loudly and brashly and, as English speakers, my friend and I couldn't help but overhear.
I'll admit we were talking about them a bit, and how brash Australians seem to be, but it was cool to hear some other English speaking people for once.
At one point, however, the couple caught the attention of a guy who looked like one of the regulars and waved him over. They then asked this German, who looked to be in his mid eighties, whether he knew anywhere they could find any German military gear, medals, or anything else dating from the 1940's. The guy looked to slump a little, go whiter and greyer and had a look of anguish on his face -- quite how he managed to say, in perfect English, "I am afraid I do not." (or similar, was a while ago) I do not know.
(Me, I'm not... in any way intoxicated, Fri 26 Aug 2011, 17:55, 6 replies)

The perils of being treated in the acupuncture college.
About 30 years ago I volunteered as a 'body' at the local acupuncture college. It was brilliant - free well-supervised treatment; I felt better for it and the students had a real body to practise on. A win-win situation and I loved it.

Apart from the day I was in the room next to the masturbator. Occasionally I would be left alone for some minutes, full of needles, whilst the student saw other patients. The walls of the cubicles were very thin and on this particular day I could hear a loud voiced American telling his (male) practitioner all about how he 'jerked off', how often, what methods he used, what he thought about, etc etc. in complete and gruesome detail. I didn't really want to listen but it was sort of riveting as well; in any case I had little choice but just lie there and hear it all.

Luckily it did not spoil acupuncture for me - I still have it regularly and the student is now a Master (has been for some years) and trains other students. We still occasionally laugh about Mr. Jerkoff. And I still volunteer as a 'body' sometimes. But I have never since heard anything quite so embarrasing.....
(grumpy old ratbag, Fri 26 Aug 2011, 17:48, 1 reply)

Whilst I was in the middle of breaking up with an ex
she sent me a long text message, in which were references to sex, drugs and God knows what else.

To my work.

So the next day this message was on my office answerphone, read out in that metallic Hawking voice you get when you text a landline. Luckily everyone thought it was one of those spam phone calls but I knew otherwise. So my staff all overheard my secrets even though they were not aware of it.
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Fri 26 Aug 2011, 17:48, 1 reply)

about a year ago
I had been round at my dads watching the football and was walking past three neds, maybe about 18 or so, on my way home. Two of them were just milling about and one of them was talking on his phone. This is what he said "...aye, i can feel it running down my leg. I've no even looked yet..."
First of all, what the hell has he done? Pissed himself? Shat himself? Why isn't he looking at his leg to see whats happening?
But secondly, and more importantly, why has he phoned someone up to tell them about it?
I really wish i had heard the rest of the conversation.
(unciebana It's good, but it's not right., Fri 26 Aug 2011, 17:45, 9 replies)

odd one liners
Out of context?

"I think brown is a very masculine colour"
"But the light can be very white"
"One big textile very nice and some plates, very nice"
"And it kept raining in the rainforest"
"It's a different sun, there's an ozone layer"
"I've been promised promotion for the last five years."
(mortisdead, Fri 26 Aug 2011, 17:21, 1 reply)

A tiny, shrivelled, possibly mad, old woman
being pushed in a wheelchair by her carer towards the beach some 200 yards from her seafront nursing home, declared as they passed where I was sitting minding my own business: "Oh not the fucking sea again..."

The majestic wildebeest presumably being busy elsewhere.
(LisawithoutaC, Fri 26 Aug 2011, 17:10, Reply)

I just heard someone whisper that
Legless never says "cheers" in real life.
( scarpe We Stole Bikes, Fri 26 Aug 2011, 17:03, 1 reply)

big chill a couple of years ago
my friend and i completely overestimated our ability to consume very strong hashcakes. they were big butch man-flapjacks and they hit us like a punch to the jaw. it was all we could do to stagger to our tent and pass out "for a bit". this was about 5pm.

at 1am i was woken up by the couple in the next tent. seemed she had gone to the toilet and he had made the decision to check her mobile. for the next twenty minutes or so, i was treated to him reading out the messages at the top of his voice, and her squealing: "it's not what it sounds like!!" to which he would reply:

"not what it sounds like? he wants to stick his rock hard cock in your juicy wet little pussy. what else can it sound like?" and repeat through a whole host of sexual perversions.

at first i laughed to myself, but then i realised: it was 1am and we were missing the entire festival. so i tried to wake up my friend. i tried and i tried and eventually she opened one eyelid and hissed: "FUCK. OFF." she sounded like the grandmother of that snake in "harry potter". so i rolled over and fucked off back to sleep. we finally woke up at about 9am after about 16 hours' sleep, feeling utterly magnificent.

the next door tent, however, was gone.
( rachelswipe with a fork, Fri 26 Aug 2011, 16:05, Reply)

Magic Box
There used to be a Wetherspoons in Bristol called The Magic Box. As "Debbie McGee's Vagina" is too long for a nickname we called it The Magivag.

One day a friend and I were there, stuck near the bar because it was so crowded. Also there were a group of people, including couples, including two people who were cheating on their partners.

How do i know this? The CCTV screen was behind the bar, and they were doing the cheating upstairs, outside the loos, in front of the CCTV camera.

I like to call this combination of cheating and not being good at hiding it infiduhlity.
(teebie jeebie, Fri 26 Aug 2011, 15:50, Reply)

my nan overheard a conversation at an old folks' club she'd just started going to...
the lady who thought she was the queen of it all was holding court, and proclaiming to another lady that she'd heard that the grandson of one of the new ladies was a *goth*...

my nan's ears perk up at this, and she wanders over. she informs her ladyship that actually, no, it's his wife that's the goth. he, in fact, was initiated as a druid at stonehenge by the chief druid of the insular order of druids.

'do you know her?' she's asked.

'very well indeed.' says my nan. 'you're talking about my grandson.'
(blades is looking for a brain, any brain, at, Fri 26 Aug 2011, 14:57, 7 replies)