Reverse Sickies
Last time I wanted a sickie, I was actually SICK...! Start of a bad headache and I tells wifey - "Shit, don't feel good. Head is pounding".

I wasn't expecting nor hoping for the sympathetic, "Awww poor thing, you go back to bed and sleep it off, then I'll come in later to wake you up with a nice, soothing head compress and snuggle in bed with you then.."

Nor was I expecting yet GOT the so very much more unsympathetic, "yeah, and what are you going to do all day - lounge around and surf on the computer all day.."

So what would any hen-pecked and beaten husband do but drag myself off to work only to have to explain to her a week later when the paycheck came in a little short - a full day in fact - that seeing I am on contract and get paid for every hour I actually work and also seeing that I managed ZERO hours of work that day suffering the effects of a full-blown migraine and that I couldn't claim any hours for work: In fact I had to sit at my desk all day and surf the net whilst the meds kicked in as I had nowhere to lie down.

So now... when I want to slack off and surf the net all day, I just tell her "I have to work" on the Saturday and come into the office in a "taking a sickie from home" kind of way.

She loves me though.... even with all the extra hard work I put in at the office.

And to cover the paycheck increase whilst not actually doing any extra work....? I just didn't tell her of the last payrise or two.

Now, whatever you do, DO NOT "I like This", 'cos the only B3TA QOTW posts she reads (on the very odd occasions that she desicdes to snoop in on what I am doing) are the BEST ones.

Length... It's never enough for her, is it..!?
(Sir Jester, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 8:23, Reply)

Accidentally called in sick
I have this weird voice thing which means that for the first hour or two after waking up I sound like death warmed up. So, anyhow, a few years ago, when I had a great boss (not the one I have now), I called his mobile around 8, from the train station, trying to say that I was going to be in late, as the trains were delayed again.

All I said was "Hello, R-----d!"

He said "Oh, my goodness! You sound awful. Will you be back in tomorrow?"

I suddenly twigged. "Er, I'll try, I said", and the call ended with him advising me not to push it too hard.

So I went home again, surprising my then partner, and we went out for the day. And the following day. Then I went back to work.

So, it wasn't my fault, I didn't *mean* to call in sick, it just... happened.
(purplegod counting down for Christmas!, Sat 10 Jun 2006, 10:24, Reply)

Two from school
One kid at my school once had a week off because his shoes were wet.

My favourite though... My best mate told me about a kid at his school who turned up at a swimming lesson with a letter supposedly from his mum, asking if he could be excused from swimming on account of the fact that he was soluble.
(nasalhair The Twix guy!, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 11:50, Reply)

Poo related
I'm currently in Australia, having a lovely time. I have recently found myself a job, wandering the streets of sydney offering Energy Australia customers discounts on their bills providing they sign up for three more years.
On my 4th day i awoke feeling slightly dodgy and was tempted to ring in sick but decided i shouldn't having only just started.
I had just spoke to my second customer a Vietnamese lady who i wooed with my knowledge of the vietnamese language, she signed up of course earning me some commision, good stuff, good start to the day.
I wander a little further and think ooooo i need to have a poo.I has a look at my map, and see there is a park about 10 minutes away, i'll aim for there, parks always have public toilets.
1 Minute into my walk, i thinks ooooooooooo this dosn't feel to good, i'm going to have to get a move on, so i start a harold bishop paced power walk, ooooooooo this isn't good my power walk is shifting the poo closer to my sphincter, i'll walk slower and think about other things.
BAM my stomach explodes filling my boxer shorts with cack,oooooooo bloody hell i'm thinking, i'm in the middle of no where, i've pooed myself and i'm about 5 minutes away to the park. I open my backpack, yes yes i have some tissues, i stand in the middle of the street, carefully placing tissues down my crevace trying to create a blockage so the faeces cannot dribble down ones leg. Now what do i do?! I spot in the distance a man with his garage open, i waddle up with hand placed on buttocks, 'hello there, bit of an odd request can i use your toilet,' praise the lord he said yes. I step inside where his stunning wife is, hello i say, he says to her 'i think he's had a little bit of an accident'.
I clean myself up, i remove the bum fudge from my cheeks.
I stick my pants in my backpack and i get the hell out of there. My pants now live in a bin in Botany Bay.
The story does not end there-
I obviously decided i wasn't going to continue with my day, mainly as i smelt a bit.
Anyway, i got the bus back to the city, then a train back to my girlfriends house, yes i hear you cry finally he has a toilet to deposit his bowels in.
No ladies and gentleman i didn't, i had no key, and no one was home. Never fear there is a spare key in the garage, so i ring the wench to ask for its whereabouts, she doesn't answer----------i hear a rumbling in the turd factory------- i ring again, no answer--------again, no answer.
So rather than Shit my trousers (due to the lack of pants), i decided i would excrete in a flower pot and wait until i could get in the house.
The moral of the story is do ring in sick.
I know it's long, but it's my first time and i don't know what to do with it.
(bobthebluenose, Sun 11 Jun 2006, 14:39, Reply)

Nice boss...
When I was 19 taking my year off to 'save some money for Uni' I had a right royal bender with a mate I hadn't seen for years.
Next day, at work, I became incredibly queasy, unsurprising considering the combinationof lager, Jack daniels and Baileys that was trying to escape from my bowels.
After an hour of continual top and bottom excavation my boss enquired as to whether I was alright (bear in mind this is a Saturday).
"What did you eat yesterday?", he asked.
"Well... I had a Maccy D for lunch"
"Ah, that'll do it. You don't want to eat Macdonalds.You've probably got food poisoning".
He rang my dad to let him know I was coming home. I shit it. Not just because of my ill health, but because my Dad was a bit of a drinker, but liked to boast that he never missed a days work because of it (he once slaughtered my brother for it, and threatened to chuck him out of the house for good if he didn't go to work with a hangover).

My boss, overcome with compassion, DROVE ME HOME.

We arrive to find my Dad looking stern on the doorstep. I trudged in sheepishly.
As my boss drove away, my Dad burst into laughter. "If he can't tell the difference between food poisoning and being a pisshead, then he's a stupid cunt. Well done son."
( Joe Scaramanga with a G-double-O-D vibration, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 8:22, Reply)

Young lad has problems
I fondly remember the story of my friend's 5 year old who, upon deciding to take a sickie (to get out of pre-school, of course), couldn't think of an actual ailment to describe, so he just used one he had heard on a TV ad for painkillers.

His excuse?

"Headaches, back-aches and period pain."
(talbo, Tue 13 Jun 2006, 17:18, Reply)

The most simple rule of Sickies...
Noone is EVER ill for a day, yet so many people say "no questions were asked the next day"... That friends is becuase your boss is sat there marking up another wierd one-day teminal illness that resulted in you looking refreshed and happy.

Keep it simple. Don't specifiy an illness: give symptoms. If you boss suggests you have flu, go with it; it was his idea.
a) You don't know what's wrong with you, you just feel TERRIBLE
b) You have trouble with your balance,
c) you're "going hot and cold so fast that it's confusing"...
d) describe how you woke up with the sheets wet with sweat, but you were shivering...
e) "It's wierd... I just don't feel like eating"
f) go for too much info...
i)"I just can't seem to keep my food inside me... it goes RIGHT through me.
ii)"my pee smells kinda funny too"
iii) "I've had so little sleep becuase i
ve been shitting my guts out all night"

3 days.

There is a 3 day rule. You KNOW that flu is not a one day thing. you have to have one day of "serious illness" when you ring your boss... or even BETTER... Don't ring. Let them ring you.. at which point you pull the "Couldn't find energy to get out of bed" line, and sound like hell... then you need AT LEAST 2 days of recovery. This allows you a day of packing, and 2 days of fun.

The effect is bettered by a day's ground-work. Simply eat 10 bannanas (or similar) for breakfast. This is a sure-fire way to balls-up your stomach and make you feel crap all day. Whine and grumble to colleagues: There's no better backup than your colleagues invoulantarily saying "well.. he was looking really bad yesterday... said he felt terrible"
Girls? Skip the make-up, go for a slightly pasty look ;o)

Extra sympathy can be gleaned by "feeling shit" all day friday, and when you return to work on wednesday, say you spent the entire weekend in bed.

Remind your boss that it would be crippling for the rest of your colleagues if you were to come in and cough everywhere, thus locking a lot more colleagues to this terrible bug.

Doctors? Only irresponsible people go to the doctor and waste thier time with a simple bug like flu.... point this out to your boss too.

My Sickies are usually an exaggeration of the truth. Sure... I HAVE been ill... but it was a hangover... stretch it. Use it, Embrace the gift :o)

****************************************

No, it's note really a vote-worthy story... But maybe, Just maybe, the amateur Sickie-pullers will now extend thier bluffs, and manage a greater level of boss-convincing sickie tactics.

Go forth and be "ill". Reap the reward for ingenious acting.
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Sat 10 Jun 2006, 10:44, Reply)

My favourite - not really a sicky but a great skive
When i was a travelling sales rep, I used to be sent all over the country to the most god-foesaken places on earth. To Combat this, i devised a somewhat ingenious solution :

I stayed at home.

My boss would regularly phone me while i was 'in my car' to check how i was getting on with the journey. To counter-act this, I recorded a sample of my car engine noise, complete with a couple of indicator clicks and engine revs for good measure on my laptop, which i could start at a moments notice while the phone was ringing.

Excellent. Well, it was - until my doorbell went during one such 'trip'. I told him it was a warning light on the car as the engine kept overheating. Got away with it!

~~~~~a couple of months later~~~~~~~

I was unfortunately forced to work for a whole 2 weeks when i loaned the laptop to my boss to do a presentation so could not perform the trick - oh well - 2 weeks out of 52 aint bad.

A little while afterwards, I was up to my usual tricks (ie slobbing around on b3ta and looking for random monkey porn etc) when i should have been working... The phone goes, so i quickly reach for the shortcut on my desktop to the recorded car sample -

Imagine my horror when i find it has been replaced with one of my boss saying 'you're fired - now f*ck off'.

Moral of the story? never skive off work Never lend your boss your laptop if it has incriminating evidence on it.
(well its not going to suck itself yadda yadda yadda, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 12:55, Reply)

A recent addition
Being as I am the 1st person in the department in most morning, when people are off sick they email the work they want their classes to do to me to dish out.

My fellow NQT MMS'ed me this morning with a picture of a sexy and very naked lady, lying in bed, taken by himself. The message read "I really don't give a f*k about the excuse you make up for me, but would you come in if you found this in your bed?"

I said that he had anal sores caused by a very active weekend. Can't wait for HR to read that and put it on his record of sickness..
(gjb006, Tue 13 Jun 2006, 14:02, Reply)

At my old job in London...
...we got a new girl in the accounts dept. On her first day she went to lunch and then phoned a couple of hours later to say she would be a bit late back, as she'd gone for a walk and was lost. That was the last we ever saw of her.
(Professor Kenny Martin Hmm? What?, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 12:58, Reply)

How not to do it
Many years and beers and cheers ago a legendary drinker phoned into my work several hours into his shift to say he could not come in that day because he had flu.

They sacked him.

They didn't sack him for the phone call. They sacked him because he had in fact already turned up for the shift completely and utterly stocious. As he could not talk, let alone work, he had been sent home, where he fell into a drunken slumber until he woke up a few hours later and remembered he should be at work. Then he reached for the phone...

Smooth.
( calgacus Non sum qualis eram bonae sub regno Cynarae, Wed 14 Jun 2006, 15:53, Reply)

cancer is the answer.
well, it was/is for me. after being seriously ill only once before in my life (emergency gallbladder removal), i had a few episodes of stomach trouble in the spring and summer of 2004. a slow decline in energy and enthusiasm followed, and i decided to check into things more determinedly. lo and behold, after seeing a couple of specialists, i was diagnosed with an advanced stage of cancer in october of 2004, just two days before my birthday. a fine present, this, made even better with the discovery that it had been metastising for four or five years and i'd been living with a great clot of glunk in my intestine and colon for quite a while.

i started chemotherapy right away, but the cancer spread into my lungs and here and there elsewhere in my body. three long rounds of chemo later, i've lived longer than my doctors expected (best thing ever to hear on a cancer ward -- "are you still here?"), so hurray for modern medicine. the worst scare came when the cancer manifested in my spinal fluid, as i was told that from there it pops up in the brain and kills you very quickly. thankfully it was a false positive or the chemo treatments caught it in time. fun was also to be had in some of the spinal chemotherapy sessions, in which they inject vile chemicals directly into the spinal column. it's a bit painful at times -- they occasionally have to put restraints on patients when doing this, as when they withdraw bone marrow. i also did that, donating bone marrow for myself in case the cancer spread there, which was/is a possibility. it's a unique feeling to have someone insert a rather large gauge needle into your back and screw bits out of the core of your bones while you can hear this awful scraping sound.

other amusements included a ton of self-injections into my thighs to promote blood cell growth, resulting in more weird pains, and the sickening food trials, because chemotherapy disrupts your taste buds. suddenly foods you love taste like crap, and you begin a relatively bland diet to keep from puking or not to be repulsed. oh, and then there's hair loss -- not so bad from my head, but losing beard and pubes was disconcerting. combined with the weight gain (40 - 60 lbs), i looked like a great miserable baby at times.

my chemotherapy ended in september and i've been clear since then (with a few minor surgeries and derails), so it looks like i'm fine for a while. i'm told it'll come back and kill me, as it did my father, but i've always known that i'll die being gunned down by the vatican police while stabbing the pope through the heart with a sharpened crucifix, so cancer doesn't scare me in the slightest.

i got a paper cut last week too, but that's another story....
( postbear has metal knees, Tue 13 Jun 2006, 4:58, Reply)

I don't have a funny story this week

Because my back hurts.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Mon 12 Jun 2006, 4:20, Reply)

My favourite...
When I was younger I tended to abuse my sickdays quite a bit. One day, late in the year, I called in at 7:00am to beg off my job at an office equipment dealer with vague complaints of intestinal distress and general offishness.

My usually-tolerant manager (a swell guy, really) told me that a couple of other slackers had already called in that morning and that he absolutely could not spare me as well, and I was going to have to suck it up and come in. He then added, ominously, "...and you'd better really be sick."

Crap! I was in a corner -- I had to go in to work and appear convincingly ill if I wanted to stay out of hot water.

So I took two tabs of blotter LSD, quickly dressed, and rushed out the door. By the time I got to work I was tripping pretty hard, but I did my job to the best of my ability, explained to those that I had to talk to that I was horribly ill and had a splitting headache, and tried to spend as much time as possible on quietly absorbing tasks like filing and setting up new machines.

I had a pleasant enough day, all considered, and in the afternoon when things were mellowing out, my boss (again, the best sort) came over, put his arm around me, and told me that he was really impressed with the effort that I put in despite how obviously sick I was, and let me know that it was appreciated.

--and I got the $200 "Employee of the Month" bonus that month for that little improvisation, too.
(Larry_Mudd, Mon 12 Jun 2006, 19:26, Reply)

Ooops!
Pulled a sickie a few months back but it was kind of genuine. I broke my finger.

So I called in work on Monday morning and left a message that I'd broken my finger and would be in when it was all strapped up. Wandered in on the Tuesday morning to be pulled by the boss.

"OK Legless - How did you mange to break your finger?" asked the boss

"I knackered it saving a little girl from a burning building" I said.

"Really?" says the boss looking surprised and impressed..

"Nah - I broke it trying to stab my little finger through three beermats when I was pissed on Sunday night....."

Cheers
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Wed 14 Jun 2006, 14:20, Reply)

diarrhoea
I once used diarrhoea as an excuse but when I had to fill in the sick form I realised that I didn't know how to spell it so I wrote:

sore tummy and a runny bottom

The boss found this unnacceptable and made me fill in the form again. This time I found a dictionary and wrote:

stomache pains and frequent discharge of abnormally liquid feaces
(fannyface, Mon 12 Jun 2006, 5:54, Reply)

Not exactly a sickie, but involving plenty of sick
So, there we found ourselves in the week of freedom following exams, in my corridor of Penbryn Hall of Residence, Aberystwyth University. What did we do? We did what all students do when facing free time. Though I can't remember, I'm told that upon returning to our communal kitchen from the union that night I began necking whisky from the bottle.

Y'know when you wake up with the kinda hangover you KNOW is going to be bad? I think the thing that gave it away for me was the way I passed out when going over to my sink to get some water. Its wierd to blink then find you're looking at the ceiling with a (suddenly much worse) headache.

So, its always bad when you need to exert some kind of effort when hung over, and there are plenty of stories about how terrible work is while afflicted...Well beat this:



I climbed a fucking mountain.

Cader Idris: Second highest point of Wales, a particularly high country and something we'd decided to do with an idle day earlier that week. I'd wanted to do it, and decided the hangover would break before too long and that I could bear it like a man.

Yeah, so I'm a sodding idiot.

The journey there didn't help. Small, winding roads taken at high speed by an aggresive Cornish driver. I believe I may have set some kind've world record, "fastest vomit ever" at 60 mph. Apparently my preparation was very grim - Face changes colour, glasses off, window down, blech. A moment which has been likened to the armament scene from The Iliad. What helped even less was "Nice" James leaning out of the passenger seat window cheering while my sick splattered off the car. Thanks, you bastard.

Still, got 'em back...I found the large gob of snot/vomit stuck to the rear lights hilarious, as I was the only one with an empty stomach.

You think it ends here? Thats what I thought.

So we climb this mountain type thing. Its hot, and steep, and we all get very thirsty. Hint for the future, kids: don't drink lots of water on an empty stomach. Before too long, I'm feeling pretty bad again. Throwing up pure liquid is rather difficult, due to that "gravity" thing they tell us about occasionally. So here we find ourselves, the lads trying (and failing) to not laugh, and myself spasming "Like you were being electrocuted, or shot, or something." Cue yellow water shooting out of my mouth in a torrent - Apparently, it pushed the grass down and could be heard from a distance. Apparently, a woman walked up with a camera to take a photo of the (admittedly lovely) Welsh vista in front of us, took one look at your death-spasming narrator, then turned around and went back down. Truly, never have I hurled up my guts in a more lovely place.

Still not over I'm afraid. Have you ever tried walking for hours without any stamina? I hadn't slept for very long, I hadn't eaten anything and I had the hangover exhaustion. And we weren't even halfway up yet. Truly, walking around that ridgeline, I have never come so close to wishing for death. We were maybe three quarters of the way around, past the steep and difficult parts, when the hangover broke and I could eat again. I think I saw the face of God.

Sorry about length, but this mountain changed me forever, forging the weak iron of Cheesecake into the solid steel blade of Cheesecake+. This is no longer Cader Idris to me, but some kind of God-sent trial to burn the impurities from our very souls.
(Cheesecake Like a cake...But cheese, Sun 11 Jun 2006, 13:18, Reply)

School was always best
One kid in my form was off for 2 days, on his return without a sick note, he informed the form teacher that he had been sick "with masturbation
No idea what he thought he meant, since he looked a bit blank at the whole class laughing at him... Kept me going for days that one.
(LunarJim, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 14:03, Reply)

on his way to work
a friend told me that his co-worker couldnt come in one day as he was driving down the motorway and someone swerved in front of him so he had to brake really hard which consequently caused him to shit himself. i laughed so hard i was crying when i heard this.
my other fave was a guy at b+&, we had to ring up and leave a message explaining why we wouldnt be in. this guy leaves a message something like this "hi its 7.15am on sat and i cant come in today as ive got food poisoning. ok see you tomoz. *beep* message left at 11.50pm friday *beep*"
classic
(theresonlyme, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 11:02, Reply)

well... this really is bad karma.... but...
Once while working at the Odeon in newcastle, I got a stapler and half extracted one of the staples... Resulting in the stapler having two 'teeth' about a centimetre apart...

I then proceeded to swing the stapler at my forearm... Hard enough to petetrate the skin but not hard enough to actually staple myself... I did this for about 30 mins and left it for a couple of hours for the blood to clot...

Then i went to me superviser in a right panic and told him that i thought i had meningitis... i rolled a glass over my forearm, and as the blood had already clotted under my skin, it didn't fade...

I managed to blag 2 weeks out of work for that :)
(likeajackhammer, Mon 12 Jun 2006, 17:13, Reply)

all time favourite...
best i've ever heard, and fairly sure it's true...
guy in york works in a call centre, crap job etc, spends weekend doing ketamine. drops him in a rather large hole in the universe. calls in on monday morning, saying
" i can't come in, i'm only 1 inch tall"
boss asks "how did you manage to use the phone then?"
reply? "i've just spent 25 minutes jumping on the buttons..."

i love hard drugs.
(jameslib, Sat 10 Jun 2006, 8:07, Reply)

Sorry - I can't respond to the qotw today because
My cock was bitten off by the galactic mind octopus last night as I tried to copulate with the universe. It is currently being sewn back on by pan-dimensional monkey butlers using only the medium of dance.

Should be in tomorrow, though.
( String Theory sometimes feeds the sparrows too, Mon 12 Jun 2006, 17:31, Reply)

Eyeballtastic
I once woke after a drunken binge in bed with an attractive girl, and neither of us had bolted at the first sign of light. So in my wisdom (and thinking with my pecker) I decided to call work and tell them I was ill.

Silly of me to be so still semi-drunk as to not have pre-thought of an excuse AND hadn't put on my obligitary croaky "i'm so ill" voice. So, here i was, on the spot, speaking to my manager without a good answer to return to the question "Hello, whats up?".

First thing out of my mouth was "I can't come in, I have to lubricate my eyeball"

worked a treat, and more than once, nobody ever asked why or how, maybe they thought it was so terrible a thing that it should not be spoken of :)

*Girth over length, every time
(ShavenLunatic says touch your nose!, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 17:18, Reply)

err - I mean Headache... shit
One fine wednesday evening I went over to my mate Jimmy's and pick up a small amount of the 'erb (back in the day). Next thing I know its daylight and we've been swallowing/sniffing/smoking/drinking everything we can lay our hands on and I'm supposed to drive to work (unlikely). Time for a sickie.

Tried to get hold of several people who would be 'understanding' of my predicament. No Luck.

So I call my boss - no answer - voice mail. I leave the following message:

"Morning Mel - I'm afraid I can't come in today I've got a terrible hangover... I mean headace... ... ...shit.

I'll let you know when I feel better."

and I hang up (this was pre 'to re-record your message'...).

Turns out that she was off ill for the next few days and when she got back all she said was
'Morning Patch - hows the headace'

Oh - and she forwarded the VM to pretty much the entire company.
(Shifty weeeee, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 12:33, Reply)

Workshy Fops!
In seven years at my current job, i haven't once phoned in sick, either with an actual or imaginary complaint.

The glorious British empire wasn't built on people deciding they don't feel very well. I mean, if Nelson had taken a sickie at the Battle of Trafalgar, we'd all be eating garlic and talking like gayers now. That fucker had his arm blown off and his eye shot out and he still turned up for work the next day!

However, i do steal things from work. It's your duty as an oppressed worker.
( 100% Cock Raw like carrots., Fri 9 Jun 2006, 12:09, Reply)

Props as well
A friend of mine used to phone in work and say he had diarrhea... fair enough.
But he used to sit by the toilet with full pint glasses of water and as he talking he would occasionally empty one in a dramatic manner to create "splashes" and other such fancy effects.

One day he got too over-confident with his flawless method of getting a day off work.

As the 2nd glass was "going down" his mobile managed to go with it.
At first I was concerned that his boss could hear me in the background rolling on the floor with laughter... still it could have been worse.
He could have dropped his phone in real diarrhea.
(tylrdiablos, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 9:51, Reply)

My boss liked me.
My line manager wanted to give me a pay rise, but there was no way the tight fisted cnuts at the top of the company would authorise it. Instead, my boss let me get away with anything as long as the work was up to date.

My girl friend came to visit me one evening. Rabbits don't shag as much as we did - all night and into the dawn.
Knowing that my boss would most likely already be in the office, I called at 7.30.

Me: "Hi Dave. My girl friend came over last night, and well, I'm really exhausted... all the stock checking's up to date... can I take today off?"
Dave: "Ha ha! Yes, totally! See you tomorrow!"
Me: "Yay!" [goes to sleep, has more sex all day]

Priceless. Best boss I ever had.
( no cake for the impuritay Patrick Stewart hasn't aged since, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 9:46, Reply)

"Hi Steve. No, don't bother picking me up today...
... I've got these chest pains. Yeah, I phoned NHS Direct. No, they... hang on, got to go - there's a couple of paramedics running up my drive with a portable defibrillator."

It was all true too!
Turned out to be heartburn, but it took three doctors down at the hospital all morning to work that one out.
( teedyay, Tue 13 Jun 2006, 22:24, Reply)

sadly, this is a true story.

In one of my previous jobs, I used to chuck 'anti-sickies', where I'd go in when I was sick and pretend not to be, in the hope of infecting other people.

I had a slightly negative attitude towards that job.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Tue 13 Jun 2006, 1:45, Reply)

Brief
I worked for british gas and it was shit.
I decided at dinner time i wanted to go home.
I told my manager i had diarrhea.
He told me to prove it.
I asked if he'd like me to shit in his hand.
I was sacked the next month for some vague commitment nonsense.
The End.
( Shiodome has realised numbers in names aren't cool., Sun 11 Jun 2006, 14:34, Reply)