Well, that taught 'emSammi Evil Nice writes "I shared with two students, and it was always the same; whenever it was near to paytime, my milk *and only this* would disappear.
One of them, John, was a lovely bloke but allergic to nuts. John makes tea. Soon after, John starts swelling up.
ME: Runs, administers epi-pen. "You're going into anaphalactic shock."
HIM: "How do you know?"
ME: "I put almond oil in my milk."
What have you done to teach somebody a lesson?
(, Thu 26 Apr 2007, 14:54)
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Think I've posted about this before......but I can't find it for lazy linkage. Ah well, how about one of my special lengthy ones?
Although we have a new understanding as grown-ups, my older brother and I didn't get on as kids - usual sibling interrebellion chalk-and-cheese type stuff. Essentially, he was the badboy and I was the geek - we were both happy in our roles aside from each other's presence. We shared a bedroom in an old two-up-two-down terrace for awhile - if you think that's northern, get this - it even had an outside toilet - now you know I was brought up on lard butties ;)
Our beds were on opposite sides of the room. They were supposed to be bunk beds but for obvious reasons, berthing us in such close proximity turned out to be a really bad idea. Between the beds at the pillow end was a painted dresser, presumably to stop us swinging at each other in the night. At some point, I was 10ish, he 12ish, my brother got to his marker grafitti (graffiti? I dunno) phase and wrote '{THATBLOKE} STIKS OF SHIT' on the side of the dresser facing my bed - pillock even spelled my name wrong - my NAME - it's only five bloody letters long. He was in high school by this point ffs.
He had a shit-eating grin the entire night but eventually was a tad pissed off when it became clear I was just bemused by the fact that he may have well have scrawled 'I AM A FUCKWIT' there instead. He started with the prodding a la '...so what you gonna do about it, shortarse? Eh? Eh? What?'. Truth is, I'd already decided what to do about it.
The next day, I went out during my school lunch break with some of my pocket money and bought a red marker. When I got home, always hours before he did as he was always running around with one bunch of dickheads or another back then, I took my marker and corrected his spelling. Not the foulest vengeance ever, granted, but I thought and still think of it as one of few times I've achieved something effective yet sublime :)
To be honest, I thought he'd think it was funny too and these days he does see the funny side. Back then though, he went apeshit and told our Mum that I'd been drawing on the dresser with a marker. Git.
No fooling Mum, however - she surveyed the damage and figured out the story in a flash. She confiscated the markers and bollocked us both whilst trying to keep a straight face. She still tells people about it now.
(, Thu 26 Apr 2007, 19:52, Reply)
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