» Well, that taught 'em

and another
Just remembered one more. We used to play one up on eachother at work all the time. I used to work in email and it started by faking eachothers email addresses and inviting the whole team out for drinks or spamming eachother with fake subsriptions to gay prawn sites or NAMBLA etc.
There were several of us and it seemed a good way to keep up morale (I was boss - and a bloody great one!).
One guy and myself would occasionally get into a bit of a war with it, but all in good humour.
Here's a few I can remember.

Sello taping over the mouse ball (so it doesn't work) and the earpeice of the phone.
Changing your caller ID (that only the outgoing number see's - you don't) to various things - Gandalf, Tom Cruise, Gaylord Fokker, Shirley and shaggy are only a few of hundreds that I can rememeber.
Everyone had two PC's, so we'd swap the keyboard and mouse cables over.
Putting weightlifting weights into someones rucksack. We added one a day for three days before he realised. The guy lived near Brighton and worked in London and had been carrying it there and back every day. After he went nuts over that we started adding tech manuals (you could beat an ox to death with some of them). After he started checking the main pocket of the bag each day before leaving, we stared filling up all the other pockets with paperclips, nuts and bolts etc. He left soon after that.
Setting Windows to play that bloody awful frog thing on start up, then with every window activation, every application startup and every notification.
Taking a screenshot of the windows desktop, setting it to be the desktop picture and then deleting all the real icons. Took ages to figure out the first time!
Taking a screenshot of the windows desktop, then printing it out in colour and taping it to the glass behind the anti-glare screen.
Whilst the victim was on holiday, spending a casual two weeks creating a sculpture with their chair danging over the desk using about 600 elastic bands, creating a web-like effect all round the desk. The overall effect was like a web that dangled from the ceiling and engulfed the entire desk and it's contents. It was a work of art.
One guy (who wasn't on our team) received an anonymous package every few weeks containing all sorts of crap that had been lying around our desks. Screws, bits off of broken pda, cables, all manner of crap. We used to keep an internal envelope for anything we didn't think we needed anymore and, when it was full, send it to him. We could see his desk from ours and would get great joy out of seeing him go slowly mad over who was doing this.
We did this for eight years. They still do it now in my honour (I'm not there anymore).

One time, late on a Friday before going away for two weeks I was there on my own waiting for a call. I was bored, so taped over this guys phone and mouse, then changed his keyboard settings to be French etc.
I forgot all about this when I got back, cos of the superb holiday I'd had. When I returned, he was away for two weeks - so by the time I saw him again I'd totally forgotten all about it.
Anyway, about a week later we're down the pub and he tells me.
He'd seen my umbrella lying on the desk, so had opened it up and filled the inside with the contents of several hole punchers and as much ripped up tissue paper as he could fit. Then he'd wrapped it back up and put it back on my desk. He'd assumed that whilst he was on holiday, I'd been out in the rain and been had by the trick. Except I hadn't.
The day before, he'd worked late and it was pissing down as he wanted to leave. Not having his own umbrella with him, he grabbed mine ran outside and opened it up.
Yep, had by his own trick. It took him ten minutes to explain this to me as he was laughing so hard that snot was coming out of his nose.
(Wed 2nd May 2007, 1:29, More)

» Work Experience

not strictly work experience
Just remembered and early work experience that sobered me up somewhat. I was taught a valuable life lesson and matured considerably after this.

I was 16 and had just started working in a dental lab making false teeth. Now, if you don't know, they're cast from an impression of your own teeth. We'd mould the basic shape in wax, then cast them into plastic. We had to mix powdered plastic with liquid plastic (stay with me) then bake it to set it.
Anyhoo... One of the first things I was told is that both the plastics were highly flammable.
Cool thinks me. A 16 year old wannabe pyromaniac and tons of flammable stuff (I'd once 'accidently' set fire to my brothers bed whilst he was in it, but that's a story for another day).
Cut to my first saturday working in the lab on my own. Now the lab was connected to the surgery which had about five dentists and had a waiting room full of people.
Without explaning the motivation, there was:
Me, alone in the lab
A bunsen burner
A pile of powdered plastic
A feckin huge metal drum of liquid plastic.

I'd discovered that throwing handfuls of the powder onto the bunsen burner flame created a wonderful mini forework display.
Equally fun was pouring some of the liquid onto the counter and setting it alight. It burned in ripples and was very cool.
I'd done this very carefully several times when disaster struck.
I'd hefted up the drum to pour some more onto the counter when it slipped slightly in my hands. I managed to stop it from dropping, but must have squeezed it as a jet of liquid shot out of the drum and landed squarely on the bunsen burner.
The rest happened in slow motion.
The flame on the bunsen burner lit the liquid in mid air. The liquid was now flame and shot backwards towards the drum.
Without having time to even think "oh shit" the drum exploded like something out of a bond movie. The top and bottom (thankfully, both pointed away from me) flew off and shot burning liquid all over the walls, ceiling and floor.
I don't remember the rest, but one of the dentists filled me in later.
He came rushing into the lab to see me 'dancing' across the lab trying to put my hair out with one hand and my feet with the other.
Still alight I grabbed the fire extinguisher, pointed it at the wall of flame, screamed "Banzai!" and pulled the cord.
The fire was put out in seconds as the chemicals from the extinguisher put out the flames and then bounced of the walls and put me out.
I was left a jibbering mess and responisble for the entire lab needing to be redecorated.
The nice dentist who found me helped me cover it up and pretend it was an accident, rather than me fecking about with fire.

I never did play with matches after that.
(Sat 12th May 2007, 0:04, More)

» Council Cunts

Memories...
Many years ago (before I moved to the states to become a movie star,) I had the misfortune to be stuck working at a council for a few years.
Hopefully I can give you some insight into the 'quality' of people working there.

I worked on the 'computer team' (they didn't even realise it should be called the IT helpdesk, but there you go).
My boss was a lady who's previous experience was being a teacher for small kids. She'd done some homestudy course and managed to blag her way into the job (I seem to remember she was the only applicant).
Anyway, she didn't have a scooby about what she was doing. Heres some examples:

Asked me once what the little plastic thing in the corner of a floppy disc was. "You mean the write-protect tag?"
"oh is that what that is?"

She didn't understand the concept of 'alt-tab'. So, if she was working a word document and wanted to use excel, she'd save the document and close down the app and launch the other one. No matter how many times you'd explain it to her, next time she do the same thing again.

She decided that she would go on a unix course and that I couldn't go (even though I did all the work). On her return she wanted to make a copy our database, so instead of doing it herself pressured me into doing it. When I explained I couldn't as I didn't know how (cos the stupid cow didn't let me do the course) she decided to 'talk me through it'. She told me the wrong commands and we overwrote the live database. Her response? "Now look at what you've done". I was supposed to be going on holiday that afternoon and the bitch made me stay until I'd fixed everything.

If she gave you a project to do, it wasn't enough that you took the job and did it. You had to do it the way she wanted and follow all the steps she'd follow. Hence, a simple project that might only take a day (if approached the right way) could take weeks. If you complained that you knew how to do it better she'd call you insubordinate.

Whilst working for her, I had appendicitis and had to be rushed to hospital to get it taken out. It wasn't much fun, but I got six weeks off work so I didn't mind to much.
When I got back I was put on disciplinary as she thought I'd faked my sick leave. I had to go visit the council doctor to prove that I'd been cut open, after which had to go through the whole formal procedure of the disciplinary. It went something like this:-
"Ok Mr Evilmeister, you've had six weeks sick leave and the council regulation states you are only allowed 13 days in a year."
"yes, I had my appendix out. Do you also want to see the scar?"
"that's irrelevant, is it true you had more than 13 days sick?"
"Erm yes?!?"
Black mark goes on record. I was told the reason doesn't matter, the fact is I'd broken the rules.
This one still makes me shake my head to this day.

I ended up going crazy with frustration and one day, just couldn't handle it anymore. I typed up my resignation and kept it in my pocket. I thought to myself, if she pisses me off once more I'm gonna give it to her.
It took about two minutes before it was on her desk.

On my last day, they asked if I could say a few words to the department. My speech in full:-
"I'd like to tell you all how much I've enjoyed working here.
But i haven't."
Speech over, room in silence, Evilmeister departs for the pub.
(Thu 26th Jul 2007, 14:03, More)

» The worst sex I ever had

Young, stupid and stoned
We were young, we were in love.
We'd both lost our virginity to eachother and since then had been like two fucking machines going at it for months. Memories.
Anytime, anyplace was normally good enough. If we could smoke a big doofer before and after, all the better.
We done it in all sorts of public places, usually late at night or out of the way somewhere. Both of us living with parents made anywhere seem a good place to do it!
This day we'd gone over to the park after a couple of shandies and way too much weed (I think this was also the first day I ever smoked skunk).
We'd gone into the bushes to find some little out of the way spot and found a nice little area under a tree. We started snogging and groping eachother until we were on the floor starting to rip at eachothers clothes. She pulled out my cock and started to give me a blow job. I lay back to enjoy it with my hands up under my head (in classic style). On hearing a discreet cough, I looked to my right hand side to see a family eating a picnic. They were all staring at us in shock and the father was trying to cover his childens eyes who were fighting back so they could stare at my cock.
I nonchalontly tapped my gf on the head and made a 'lets go' motion with my thumb and we slinked away.
My gf hadn't even seen them.
That was about 20 years ago now and I wonder if those kids still tell a story about what they saw at the park one sunny day.

Also, I'm proud/ashamed (delete as appropriate) to admit that when I lost my virginity to this girl I was wearing a green, glow-in-the-dark condom that had been given to me as a joke. It was the only one I had left as I'd been so convinced that I'd never get any, that I'd used all the others I'd had as water-balloons.
(Sat 16th Jun 2007, 1:08, More)

» When were you last really scared?

I don't scare easy.
In my 30(ish) *cough* years on this planet I've been in some hairy situations. I've been shot, fought off a crazed chav with a knife, spent 6 months as the only white person in a vey rough part of Jamaica, mugged in amsterdam, attacked numerous times late at night in London, nearly run over by a concrete mixer, almost bombed 3 times (London again) and nearly drowned more than once due to a hearty non-fear of strong tides (and being convinced as a strong swimmer I could outswim them). There's more, but you get the picture.
So you think in one of those incidents I'd have actually been a bit scared. Well, maybe after the event.
The only things that have really come close to scaring me have been a couple of ghostly incidents, but I'll save those stories for another time.

The last thing to put the fear of God into me I can sum up in two words:-
Kamikaze Waterslide

It was in Torremolinos a couple of years ago. An old friend of mine lives in Malaga and I'd popped over for the weekend. We decided on a day at the waterpark with his kids and, after trying all the different slides, there was only one left - the Kamikaze. An almost vertical waterslide, it dominated the skyline over the park and I'd eye'd it ominously, deciding that there was no way I was going near it.
My mates kids were only a couple of years old, so thankfully they were not badgering anybody to go on it.
I don't know how, but somehow my mate and me got into taking the piss out of eachother saying it looked "easy" and we didn't reckon it looked that high. We've got a history of taking the piss out of eachother and taking it too far, so a few minutes later, we're climbing the stairs to the top of the ride.
I think at this point neither of us had any real intention of actually going on the ride. This was confirmed when we stopped halfway up (it was fucking high) to admire the view. He looked at me and said in a shaky voice "We don't have to do it, if it looks to high we can just go back down the stairs".
This was something I wanted to do already, but didnt want to admit. So, alot of heavy climbing (and black spots before my eyes) later, we were at the top.
There was a small queue of kids and a group of young, bikini clad spanish girls chatting and watching the kids. It was at this point we realised that if we didn't do it, we would look like complete and utter prats to these girls and to the kids coming up behind us.
With a heavy hear, the attendant made me sit on the slide with my feet dangling over the edge. I peaked over the edge and could only see the bottom of the slide. It was so near vertical that I couldn't even see it. This was the moment that I discovered that I have vertigo (I'd never given it a moments thought before then).
The attendent explained that I had to cross my arms over my chest and cross my legs and he'd push me over.
I never thought I'd be able to peel my fingers off the rail, but somehow I was able to do it. as soon as he pushed me over, I fell like a stone, arms and legs wailing, trying to gain any purchase.
This was when I realised that my vertigo was actually a fear of falling and the only reason why I didn't leave a midair shit-trail, is that my shorts were forced up my arse by the g-force of my fall.
When I hit the bottom and somehow managed to crawl on my hands an knees away from this torture device, I was berated by the guard at the bottom for not crossing my arms and legs. If I'd had any coordination left I'd have probably swung for him.

The same thing happened to my mate who came 'falling' down after me and for weeks we'd have flashbacks and go white.
How those kids were throwing themselves off and then running straight back up for another go, I'll never know.

This was about four years ago and I still have the occasional nightmare about it.

Well, would you look at the size of that? Not bad for my first post ;P
(Mon 26th Feb 2007, 22:09, More)