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This is a question Vandalism

I got a load of chalk, felt-tip markers and paint from friends one Christmas in a thinly-veiled attempt to get me involved with their plan to vandalise the toilets at the local park. My downfall: Signing my name. Tell us your stories of anti-social behaviour.

Thanks to Bamboo Steamer for the suggestion

(, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 12:10)
Pages: Latest, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, ... 1

This question is now closed.

Grills...
Written on a bridge near to where I used to live from a bunch of different people:

"I hate grills"

"Don't you mean girls?"

"Whats wrong with grills anyway?"
(, Tue 12 Oct 2010, 16:08, 2 replies)
Brighton 2008
I just loved at the height of ANTI-BUSH-MANIA someone changed a piece of highly charged political thought
From
BUSH IS ANOTHER NAME FOR "C**T"
To
BUSH IS ANOTHER WORD FOR "SHRUB"
Simple, genius,wish I thought of that....
(, Tue 12 Oct 2010, 16:06, Reply)
Just asking for trouble...


I bet it gets re-kicked within an hour of being fixed. I mean, would YOU be able to resist it?

Or perhaps the company is just a shit.
(, Tue 12 Oct 2010, 15:49, Reply)
It's only R 'n Roll! But I like!
Seen in Milan last year (the picture's not the best but you get the idea)



It's only R'n Roll! But I like!

Despite the poor grammar and strange choice of abbreviation, the cheery, enthusiastic Borat-ness of it makes me smile.
(, Tue 12 Oct 2010, 15:36, 5 replies)
Back in the day...
I was at a london university... we were the second year of students to be in brand new halls. They were nice. However they were controlled by somewhat of an evil harridan of a bint, my contempt for this women I have only met twice since, a boss and another halls manager.

I digress, this foul woman had decided to make even the simplest task impossible, the turning point was when she claimed 300 quid off my girlfriend for a scorch mark on the inbuilt desk... a mark that was there when we arrived and was fully documented.

(I will also add that she tried to charge us 50 quid for the glass plate in the bottom of a super budget microwave, I am sure even then you could pick up a new one from Tesco for 20 quid)

So revenge was needed.

As is the architecture of modern halls, the walls were simply painted breeze blocks, with all cabling placed in white plastic trunking. If you're familiar with this set up you will know that the front face of this trunking comes away really easily.

So my leaving gift and I am sure it's still there to only be witnessed by various contractors. Was a lovely tirade telling all about the virtues of said hell bent maid.

I don't recall exactly what it was I said, but I know it went all around the kitchen and half way down the hall...

My secret rebellion.

I didn't put any prawns there, one of my few regrets.
(, Tue 12 Oct 2010, 14:28, 6 replies)
Soap
It was at a house party during my student years: the party was rocking, loads of people milling about, busy busy. Me and my partner in crime snatched a bar of Palmolive soap from the bathroom and had sidled our way up to the microwave in the kitchen. We opened it, popped the soap in, and set the timer to two minutes. Off we scooted, sniggering away.

I was convinced we would get away with it, even when the smell of cooked soap drifted rapidly through the room and caught us up, making me laugh so hard a little wee came out. An exodus started out of the kitchen as people were overcome by the stink. I waited in the hall trying not to laugh, but when the microwave "pinged" tears were streaming down my face.

You see, this is what happens to soap in a microwave: it heats up, and starts bubbling, and thus expands. Pretty much to fill the available space. When the heat source stops, the soap, well, sets, for want of a better word. You've seen the inside of a mint Aero? Well this is what the microwave looked like. I was reliably informed that it took several hours to chip out, and that three months later anything cooked in the microwave still tasted a little bit soapy. Wrong wrong wrong.

P.S. Having experimented I believe Palmolive soap gets the best results. Don't try it with imperial leather, unless you like firework displays.
(, Tue 12 Oct 2010, 14:23, 12 replies)
TOP TIP : Taggers
When tagging the side of a new white works van, be sure to use "permanent" marker, so the driver can then erase your futile work in a minute or so with some isopropyl alcohol. You bell-ends.
(, Tue 12 Oct 2010, 14:01, 3 replies)
In Dymo tape, stuck to a heater in a flat we had to vacate

SHOW US YER CLACKER YAH KNACKER

It may still be there.
(, Tue 12 Oct 2010, 13:58, 1 reply)
An oldie but goodie well executed
Dirty white van in Edinburgh. A wag had used his finger (I hope it was his finger) to write: "I wish my wife was this dirty."

In another hand underneath: "She is."

And another writer added: "I agree."

And another: "Me too."

Made me laugh like a loon.
(, Tue 12 Oct 2010, 13:52, Reply)
It's murder.
It's amazing what you can do when you have too much time on your hands, a twisted sense of humour, some beer and a little Crime Scene tape. You know, that yellow and black plastic band the cops tie between trees or doorways to block them off? My best friend had a roll of the stuff. We'll call him Legba, despite his American birth and Welsh background.

He worked in the Uni game room and that's where we met. We became friends quickly and had a mutual love of beer and pinball, both -- coincidentally -- available in the game room. I was the (AP-affiliate) newspaper's copy editor at the time and we were one floor up in the Student Union. Once the paper was ready for the printer, off I'd go to the game room where Legba was usually busy closing up and kicking people out, leaving us to play the Addams Family pinball machine and drink beer in peace.

Legba and I are big on obscure and oddball references. He'd come over to my flat a lot and we'd drink beer and watch the Rockford files or Rocky and Bullwinkle... maybe a film. And talk. Imagine two drunk, well-read, quasi-intellectuals giving the Mystery Science Theatre 3000 treatment to a 1970's cop show and you've pretty much got the picture. "Oh captain, my captain!" indeed.

Anyway, during my ball, he started talking about his crime scene tape. We'd been throwing Repo Man quotes at each other that night. I sent the ball into the unlit electric chair, the machine said, "It's not plugged in yet," and Legba said, "Let's do some crimes!" I just spit out, "Yeah, let's do a murder and not pay!"

It had been a pretty boring summer and we were going to spice it up. He had the tape with him. All we needed was chalk and blood. There was chalk aplenty at the dart boards, leaving us needing only blood. I had a lot of paint and dyes at home and ran to pick some up (it was a three-minute walk to my place). We came up with a mixture of rose madder paint dye, beer and some other stuff. Actually, I came up with the blood, Legba having supplied the beer and tape. I made it the brownish colour of dried blood, not the bright red of the fresh stuff.

We went out to the front entrance of the Student Union building which faced a pedestrian bridge. It was on this bridge at dusk that we set up the scene. The building's main entrance columns would've made a great location, but we didn't want to risk it all being torn down before anyone could see it so we went for the wide bridge, choosing a sort of corner that was both out of the way and yet highly visible.

Legba lay down and I outlined him, not with curves following the body but with very basic, simple, straight lines. That's how it was really done then though I don't remember how I know that. Then we drew a couple of lines with arrowheads converging toward a point on the stairs about 10 meters away. Using a syringe, I set some "blood" at the chest with a little spatter on the wall, some coming from the mouth outside the chalk line, and a little smear "under" one of the hands. Next to the shoulder I drew a box and added a few cryptic letters and numbers, something like "H234/3 C37 AB3L". Or something like that.

Then I went to the merge point on the stairs and dropped a few coins on the ground. While Legba was doing his best to tie off the scene with the tape (strategically moving a rubbish bin to get a tie point) I drew circles around three of the coins, numbered them and then picked up my change. This showed where the casings had fallen. It was dark, we had our full scene completed and we headed to the watering hole laughing our asses off. It had taken us only five minutes to set up.

I was at the school around 7:45 the next morning and as I got to the bridge, I saw a couple maintenance guys jabbering into their radios and finally beginning to remove our scene. While I was a bit sad that it was disappearing so quickly, it had been seen. Rumours were flying around and the 37000-student campus was abuzz by mid-day. People at the paper were asking each other if anyone knew anything. Campus Security was refusing to comment. I spent the day trying not to laugh and was only mildly successful at it.

Legba and I were hysterical that night as we drank Rolling Rock and watched Rockford Files. Working in the game room where a couple of the kampus kops hung out, he'd heard them talking to each other. It turned out that the the cryptic stuff I wrote just happened to match the standard homicide notation! The first line was "Homicide, day 234 / shift 3". The C37 also matched "jurisdiction, ordinal number". Oops.

The campus police were mad because they figured the city cops had stepped on their jurisdiction yet again without telling them. The city cops kept saying there was no incident and were annoyed by the stupid questions. The morgue said no bodies came in. But the funniest bit of all were the people who talked about how some friend of a friend was a witness on the same day!

It's hard to drink when you're laughing so hard, even out of a longneck bottle.

Did I mention it was Freshmen Orientation that week? Yep, bunches of high school kiddies and their parents were touring the campus. Heh heh heh...

It took a few weeks for all the talk of the "murder" to die down, but the "blood" stains were there on the bridge for a year. Some two years later Legba was in ourn local and some chick who had been Student Government president at the time was telling her friends all about the murder scene she'd seen on her way home after working late at the uni. She saw it and legged it, screaming at the top of her lungs and running as fast as possible back to the sorority house. Legba overheard, broke out in laughter and 'fessed up. She damned near handed his head to him.

My memory's a bit shaky; maybe we did it on a Tuesday night.
(, Tue 12 Oct 2010, 13:41, 1 reply)
Is littering a form of Vandalism?
WHen I worked in the town-centre some years ago, I used to get the bus. ABout halfway into town, at a bus-stop outside an Iceland store, someone had chucked a full cucumber still in the plastic wrapping onto the top of the shelter. It was there each day I went past, and it became the second most noteworthy thing on the entire journey. Second only to another bus-stop being near a shop, the flat above which was home to a rather lovely lady wandering about in a short nightie getting ready in the morning, but I digress.
That cucumber slowly withered away, turning yellow in the process so that it looked like pensioner's forearm until after a month, it was just a cellophane tube full of manky water.



And the girl in the flat finally bought some curtains, but a week afterwards, I was made redundant.
(, Tue 12 Oct 2010, 13:30, 1 reply)
Hey hey ....
This (in Bathgate) was painted over quite quickly but not before my trusty camera phone caught it for posterity. You can see where the perp nearly did the swastika back to front. Brainboxes !




(Mod edited to fit on the screen)
(, Tue 12 Oct 2010, 13:27, 7 replies)
On top of a Bus Shelter in London
I saw the sign THIS IS NOT A POTATO

Presumably Magritte has relatives in the big smoke
(, Tue 12 Oct 2010, 13:17, Reply)
Funniest Grafitti
Funniest Grafitti I ever saw was in an over-priced pub in York. The men's toilets were up three flights of stairs and on the back of the toilet door someone scrawled -

FUCK ME THAT WAS A CLIMB AND A HALF!
(, Tue 12 Oct 2010, 13:11, 2 replies)
There's a church by my house with a motivational poster outside
and some "wag" added the legend "Jesus is a cunt" to the bottom of it. Some churchy types have recently put a strip of white tape over this scandalous accusation, but every time I walk that way I have this terrible urge to write over the top "Jesus is still a cunt".

This is why I don't carry a sharpie if I go out drinking
(, Tue 12 Oct 2010, 12:41, 5 replies)
Holy..........
Here in Johannesburg - on a derelict church wall was written:

"Jesus is Coming"

added a week later...... "Act Natural".

This morning I see a further addition - "HIDE THE SHEEP".....
(, Tue 12 Oct 2010, 12:29, 1 reply)
Leith bus stop
Smash patriarchy and that
(, Tue 12 Oct 2010, 12:28, 3 replies)
Drink! Postboxes! Knobs! Ace!
Many years ago, in Hunter's Bar....

There were several postboxes near my old house. My mate and I had a few hours spare, so we got pissed. On our way home, we walked past Homebase and an idea hit me; we would buy some paint, to decorate local pillar boxes.

So we did. We bought some purple, and some pink, and went home. Later that night, we crept down the road, sneaking silently (or giggling like twats and making a right old racket with the tins) down to the post boxes. We got there, and with stealth that would have disgraced an elephant, painted the post boxes like knobs, complete with veins.

We made it home and then, over the next couple of days, loitered in nearby bars listening to people talk about the decorations, and gloating.
(, Tue 12 Oct 2010, 12:27, Reply)
Talking of Oxford
And I don't know if it's been done, but when my brother was there back in the early 1980s, some philosophy student wrote in large letters on Long Wall St (I believe):

IS THIS MINDLESS VANDALISM?

Bloody students.
(, Tue 12 Oct 2010, 12:13, 7 replies)
Similar to MyMilkShake....'s post
On the A8 heading out past Edinburgh Airport, upon arriving at the village of Ratho Station, the 'welcome' sign bears the postscript "You'll never leave."

Classy.
(, Tue 12 Oct 2010, 12:01, Reply)
The finest nerd graffiti mankind has ever created
What with Oxford being interplanetary in its oddness and B3ta a lawless land of nerdery, I thought you might appreciate this:

Behind my building, somebody graffiti-ed ‘TCP’ in 4 foot tall letters. Although it was clearly a tag of some hoodied yoot with stabby fingers and cider budget, the next day ‘/IP’ was written next to it.

Over the following glorious autumn weeks, the wall was filled with (quite specifically) Internet Protocols. UDP! IMAP! FTP! ICMP! Telnet! POP3! Etc! Some pedantic nerd soul went so far as to classifying them as Application / Transport / Internet / Link. It really brought a tear to the weary IT professional’s eye.

This wall was a beautiful mess of geekness, until one day somebody took a spraycan and wrote over this perfect artistic and intellectual storm of protocols with the word ‘F*GGOTS’.

The dream was over. The council covered the inflammatory word and all that preceded it.

Only in Oxford.
(, Tue 12 Oct 2010, 11:01, 24 replies)
On the A71 into Edinburgh
passing Wester Hailes, on the back of a sign:

"MCCABE IS A GRASS"

I don't think it's there any more.
(, Tue 12 Oct 2010, 10:51, 2 replies)
See this statue of Alderman James Stuart ?
maps.google.co.uk/?ie=UTF8&ll=53.757297,-0.308081&spn=0,0.001714&z=19&layer=c&cbll=53.757171,-0.308209&panoid=e5bh64A6l0tRVeKmkfsZRg&cbp=12,295.89,,0,-0.63

Can you guess why it has railings around it? On several occcasions about 5 years ago, someone kept leaving a traffic cone on it's head. It would sit there for a few days before it was removed. Then another would appear. This happened about 4 or 5 times. But then someone painted his trousers bright strawberry-milkshake pink. It stayed like that for a few weeks before it was painted over/washed off and the fence erected.

If someone was going to go to all the effort of painting the statue, you'd think some 3ft railings wouldn't deter them.
(, Tue 12 Oct 2010, 10:47, 2 replies)
By the power of grey skull
In a pub carpark, a couple of parking spaces were reserved and were accompanied by a sign "The Management"
Someone had removed the first 'T'.

Doesn't sound like much, but picturing Prince Adam in a board meeting as "He Management" made me chuckle anyway.
(, Tue 12 Oct 2010, 10:37, Reply)
Cambridge vandalism...
...in the engineering faculty loos it used to have a cracking bit of pretentious graffiti that read:

VICI, VENI, V.D.

Latinlols.

I never did get round to defacing the sign in the city centre to the Brass Rubbing Centre. Basically I couldn't decide whether to remove the "Br" or the "ss".
(, Tue 12 Oct 2010, 10:10, 5 replies)
Pretentious Bollocks
I found a lovely piece of graffiti in the mens loos in a club in Camden. It was simply two squares and underneath was written “Balls to Picasso”

Length? There was no shaft...
(, Tue 12 Oct 2010, 9:11, Reply)
Everyone Shrugs Off Responsibility


Even the folks in Bernalillo, NM, USA
(, Tue 12 Oct 2010, 7:58, 2 replies)
Ya bas
Under a road sign in Glasgow when I was on on overnight bus from London was -

Get In Line (ya bas)
Ya bas -was spray-painted on, but it conveyed nicely the Glaswegian sense of humour, as in, don't fuckin mess.

I have to say, I was one of the few who laughed their arse off at that. It was well worth being awake for that alone, for I knew I'd come home. Scots rule. And yes, yes you can abuse me for this, but it's something I'm proud of. I can appreciate different types of houmor, but the self-deprecating kind always hits home
(, Tue 12 Oct 2010, 5:05, 2 replies)
I helped destroy Brighton
On a Bank Holiday.

Some fucker pinched my bird when I got lifted though, so it wasn't all good.
(, Tue 12 Oct 2010, 4:54, 2 replies)
Some vandalism that never happened...
...but lord (perhaps) it should have.

Many moons ago, when I was but a young nipper, I had the dubious privilege of attending what I shall (because I always have, and will continue to) call a "public school".

At said establishment there was a summer celebration, where the good folk would gather upon the playing fields to drink champagne, and eat cake and watch cricket.

There were perhaps a thousand schoolchildren eager to pull a prank on that day, and many were undoubtably pulled. None, however, would come close to the idea I heard of.

You see, of all the people who "wanted" to do something, there were precious few who would actually do it if it involved getting one's hands dirty.

There were traffic cones strung from trees, exploding confectionaries, S.C.U.B.A. divers and paintball assaults, but vandalism?

The idea, as I was reliably informed, was to raise some cash. That was the easy part. The hard part was what to do with it. Well, when I say hard, I should really also include a disclaimer about length; it is by now long, and hard and throbbing.

Ten pounds a person, for the most magnificent piece of vandalism ever seen. One thousand potential investors. Not all would pay up, I believe, but still! no sniffing over five grand in cash.

The idea, more specifically, was to buy one penny coins. A fair few two penny coins too, as they are a better size, but ignore them for now. So 500,000 one penny coins. In sacks, in the back of a couple of S.U.V.s. Being driven through several thousand people picnicking happily. Picture money being thrown in handfuls - worthless money at rich people. The sports fields are covered in shrapnel.

Except they never were. Not in my knowledge anyway. My only wonder is what happened to the money.

Length: I already warned you.
(, Tue 12 Oct 2010, 4:52, 18 replies)

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