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This is a question Awesome Sickies

A colleague has been off work for two weeks now - apparently he's got something they can't diagnose, (although they know for sure it's not Legionnaires, Malaria, BSE or AIDS, he's supposedly in isolation). We are all sure he's merely sitting in the sun waiting for the World Cup to come on the telly.

What have you invented to get off work?

(, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 7:40)
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This question is now closed.

My housemate...
has just returned from a week off work with chicken-pox. He's 38.
(, Tue 13 Jun 2006, 16:28, Reply)
He didn't believe me
I'd just started a new job in a new city and thought it would be nice to organise a night out with my fellow colleagues to get to know them a bit better.

We went to a nice restaurant and the wine flowed... and flowed.... and flowed.

Next morning I woke up feeling as if elephants had been trampling on my head then shitting in my mouth. Being lucky enough to have flexi hours, I stayed in bed longer than normal and reset the alarm. Still didn't feel better when I woke up so I called a colleague (she had been out too) and said there was no way I could come in, could she let my boss know I was sick, which she duly did. She didn't go into details with him, just said I was sick.

Next day, feeling sooooo much better and boosted by that chipper, lighter-than-air feeling you get when the hangover has lifted, I bounced into work and got my nose to the grindstone. I was standing at the photocopier beavering away when my boss suddenly appeared from nowhere - "Hello there, good to have you back - feeling better? What was wrong with you anyway?" Now stupidly, I hadn't really thought this far ahead and so blurted out the first thing that came into my mind: "I fell asleep with my contact lenses in and when I woke up yesterday morning, one of them was stuck in my eye, and when I tried to get it out I was sick." Oh dear God..... to make things worse, my boss is actually a qualified medical doctor. He actually laughed, looked at me disbelievingly and walked away. Haven't been off sick since....
(, Tue 13 Jun 2006, 15:19, 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..
(, Tue 13 Jun 2006, 14:02, Reply)
My brother rang work to say
he couldn't come in cos his grandmother had died. She died next day. I've never forgivne him for it.
(, Tue 13 Jun 2006, 13:44, Reply)
Being A Nerd...
...I used to hate, hate, hate P.E. Yes, it's not work, but consider the following: you had to wear those stupid fucking shorts which your bollocks popped out of if you sat cross legged, run in the snow and shower with other boys who called you gay. That's as bad if not worse than sitting at a desk all day typing.

So, I used to beg my mum to make stuff up to get me out of it. She played along for a bit (I'm an only child and so used to get spoiled), but eventually grew a spine and refused my whinging requests for fake notes.

So I decided I needed a convincing reason to get out of things. I decided it would be a really good idea to throw myself down the stairs. This is made pathetic by the fact that we had a dog-leg staircase, so it would in fact be a mere 5 stairs that I would be throwing myself down.

Piece of cake, I thought, I can roll round the corner and down the rest of them. No, then again, that seems a bit suspicious. I stood on those stairs for a good 15 minutes working out the logistics of where I would end up if I fell different ways.

It was no good. I couldn't bring myself to do it, just in case I actually broke anything. So instead, I decided to fake the event. Standing on step #1, I ran very fast and heavily down the stairs, punching the walls as I went down so as to make it sound authentic. Then I laid down halfway down the stiars and crumpled myself up, wailing in "pain".

Nothing happened. No stirring from the parents' bedroom - not one sound. I cried out a couple of times; still nothing.

In the end, I got back up, crying (I'm a master of fake crying to this date) and walk/hobbled into the bedroom. "Mum! I fell down the stairs!"

"Did you? I didn't hear anything."

The sob story worked, she wrote me a note - but the whole stair-fall charade was a fucking waste of time. Bah!
(, Tue 13 Jun 2006, 13:20, Reply)
Nothing special this week
I called in to my old work place with a migraine then proceeded to spend the day getting high and banging the arse off a 19 year old redhead ten years younger than me.

Strangely enough, I don’t seem to have any guilty feelings about it…
(, Tue 13 Jun 2006, 13:10, Reply)
dodgy sickies
Back in the 1970's I was working for a famous breakdown firm (not a meeting place for winos)in North London. A certain Mr B.E. decided to ring in sick. His excuse...he'd broken his leg. The twat then realised he would have to , erm, break a leg, so he jumped out of his bedroom window. He landed safely, so what did he do? He only went and jumped out again....and broke his arm. ("Stanmore Calling...Stanmore Calling")
(, Tue 13 Jun 2006, 13:03, Reply)
my bell-end once swelled up to three times its normal size... managed to get a week of school because of it. i was about 9 at the time, it was not nice.

oh, and also, when i was 10, my scrote swelled up and went all red and purple. i had to go into hospital because they thought my ball-cord was tangled up... turned out it was an allergic reaction, but i still managed to get a few days of school, and i played mario 64 with this other kid on the ward. good times.

edit: oh, i nearly forgot! my mate poncho gets migraines sometimes, and a few weeks ago it was so bad that he went blind! brilliant! he can see again now, but apparently his mum just called the college and said (in her very strong phillipino accent) "sean can't come in today, he's gone blind." we went to his house and pointed and laughed. we're all bastards, truth be told...
(, Tue 13 Jun 2006, 12:59, Reply)
It's not that funny but...
When I was in school, I was CONSTANTLY late, off or just skiving from certain lessons. I'd used every excuse under the sun and I knew for a fact they didn't believe me. When you're late in that poor excuse of a sports college (i never even LIKED P.E.) you have to write the excuse near reception. My last one?

My cat got ran over by aliens invading my dog's body.

Got a few laughs, and a bit of respect for cogging on that they never believed my excuses.
(, Tue 13 Jun 2006, 12:36, Reply)
Had to hand in a sample in the Hospital the other day.
The missus is having fertility tests carried out, and wanted me to not miss out on the fun too, by organsing for me to hand in a fresh semen sample.
I find out I can only go into the hospital on a Friday morning, and I decide to approach my female not-to-bad-looking manager, who'se sitting on her desk amongst the other workers.
I hand her the hospital letter, and she reads it until she suddenly turns red with embarrasement, at which point with a very level voice I announce in a Brian Blessed stylee;

"Yeah, I'll need Friday morning off to hand in the spunk to the docs love, cheers."

I smile and walk off, leaving her cringed under the desk with about 30-40 people laughing at her.
Still haven't got the results back yet; hope I'm not shooting blanks.
(, Tue 13 Jun 2006, 11:50, Reply)
going postal!
after leaving the marvellous institution that is the British army, one too many trips to sandy climates, had a fork full, I began an office job for the first time. my boss was just like Gareth from the office but times 1000. I have every respect for the T.A. I have worked with them and mostly they are good blokes, he however was not and more like Gareth than Gareth always asking me where I'd been what I'd seen and done, in his eyes I was the best thing since chocolate hob nobs. Anyway pretty soon I started to get head aches, usual for those using a computer apparently. anyway I got sent to the company doctor for a check up and eye test. perfect score on the eye test despite warnings as a teenager, so he takes a look through my medical records and realises where I've been and then out of the blue, "do you suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder" thinking on my feet I got very angry and said something like "what are you trying to say? do you think I'm nuts just because I get these head aches??!!". From then on I had to see the company counsellor every month and any time I felt like a day off I came in unshaven and scruffy sit at my desk starring in to the middle distance with a few tears in my eyes. The boss sent me home everytime with a pat on the back saying "it's hardly suprising, where you've been" silly twunt! anyway I eventually found something better and moved on, gutted to leave but money is money. on the last day I actually heard someone say "thank fcuk we don't need to worry about him going postal anymore"
P.S. scince leaving I've had my eyes retested and I need glasses, the heads were from screen glare.
(, Tue 13 Jun 2006, 11:46, Reply)
I rang in and told my boss I was lost in the countryside; it just came out of my mouth when she answered the phone. Luckily she said "oh dear how awful, well don't come in tomorrow if you don't think you can make it".
(, Tue 13 Jun 2006, 11:16, Reply)
Head injuries
If you ever need to pull a sickie,tell your school/work that you have a headache. Cos they cant refuse, the reason being,if said headache should cause you to collapse and hurt yourself,you could sue them.

Unfortunately,I get pretty frequent migraines,probably stress induced. A while ago,it kinda came on at school. I spent the whole day laying about on my desk,hurting,then sat about shivering. Was eventually sent home. All the chavs were asking if Id been smoking anything,but I really hadnt!

Next day,a piece of Italian coursework was due in. I was off (due to my head exploding a bit)and the bastard teacher kept going on about "haha,well,we know why SHEs not in dont we! Haha". Eventually,a gobby,chavvy friend of mine piped up and shouted "For fucks sake,you bastard,she's off with a suspected brain tumour!" The cunt mumbled his apologies,and let me off with the coursework.

I dont have a brain tumour,not even suspected! Well,touch wood..... Ooh,dont mind if i do....
(, Tue 13 Jun 2006, 11:11, Reply)
Never impale yourself..
..on a bmx, it hurts!

Also the ambulance lady will lean over you going 'my thats a little bike you have there'. Not what you want to hear when your bowels are trying to exit through your abdominal muscles.

I know its not made up, but I would have loved to have seen the look on my bosses face on Monday, when I told him what I'd done. The truth is I could have gone to work, but you may as well fleece a situation like for all its worth, right?!
(, Tue 13 Jun 2006, 10:41, Reply)
My friend Danny wanted a couple of days off work so we constructed him a pot for his arm using shinpads and bandages, we also forged an un-convincing letter from the hospital stating that he had fractured his wrist. It worked really well, he got 3 weeks off!

Few months later he 'broke' his ankle, cue another few weeks off.
(, Tue 13 Jun 2006, 10:26, Reply)
old teacher
an ex teacher from my school (who was a great teacher) was sick. he had a couple of weeks off and he realised that he'd rather be at home than in school. shortly after his return to school he forged a doctors note saying he had been diagnosed with cancer!! he was sacked but he still goes on school trips, to Lourdes of all places!
(, Tue 13 Jun 2006, 9:35, 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....
(, Tue 13 Jun 2006, 4:58, Reply)
I made my Y7 English teacher CRY!!!
Short story, I wear glasses for astigmatism (really common, not bad really).

A nice tactic for the uneducated teachers* was to remove my specs, claiming I broke them during PE or some such balls, and therefore can't see to do any work ;)

Now, this worked for damn near all my lessons I wanted to get out of. Not my english teacher, however. The hard-nosed bitch just told me to get on with it and squint. So I rubbed my eyes a shitload, made them tear up, and complained about how it REALLY hurt, complete with pained sobby voice. After 15 minutes of this the cow cracked, started crying (to this day I have no idea why), and apologising and sent me on my way for the rest of the day, exit pass and everything, for a day of shite TV and masturbation


*that'd be the lot then...
(, Tue 13 Jun 2006, 4:04, Reply)
too honest
I hated my job but was too honest to take proper sickies (until the end but that's another story), so I used to eat out of date food I found in the fridge in the hope of contracting some sort of stomach rot and getting a few days blissful peace.

*mutter* it never bloody worked...
(, Tue 13 Jun 2006, 3:58, 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.
(, Tue 13 Jun 2006, 1:45, Reply)
A girl at my place of work....
...was off for a couple of days last year. The sick note explained she was suffering from 'gentle warts'.

I think she meant genital though.
(, Mon 12 Jun 2006, 23:39, Reply)
World Cup
I don't really care if England win or not because I am Welsh. So in 2002 I wasn't too bothered about missing the morning games in school. However, my English friend came in the day after an England game (and a day he had been absent) and handed in a note from his mother explaining how he and his brother had 'footitus' because they had been sharing shoes. (Note if you are looking for sickies to use for yourself DO NOT use this. Although it did seem to work.)
(, Mon 12 Jun 2006, 21:27, Reply)
become epilleptic
i got diagnosed as epilleptic. bad news you say? naa. had a fit at work and got suspended on health grounds for 3 MONTHS on FULL PAY.. beat that bitches!!! he he...... i hate my job and the boss is a cunt.....

and they cant sack me, its discrimination, so i can quite happily play that card and say i'm being victimised whenever he has a go for me slacking or anything. you'd do the same.
(, Mon 12 Jun 2006, 20:18, Reply)
There is no quiet place in London. Anywhere.
The only twice (and twice was enough - the harsh bastards, I swear they were waiting for a reason...) I pulled a sickie was when I was in London for the day
The hours worked were 5pm-10pm, sweet little part time job that fit with school, however, very easily forgetable and as with most things in my life, my trips were planned last minute.
Have you ever tried to find a quiet place in central London when you arrive and remember you have to pull a sicky? I doubt it. And beleive me it ain't easy. Finally found a pub, went to the bogs, and hey guess what, the music is played in as loud as in the bar.
I managed to blag HR by moving my hand back and forth over the mic of my phone and telling them I had crap signal in my house, something to do with aspestos...
Can't have been believable as was sacked the following month. I blame London.
(, Mon 12 Jun 2006, 20:09, 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.
(, Mon 12 Jun 2006, 19:26, Reply)
Pissy clothes
I once had to ring in to work with the following true excuse:

On a night out at my boyfriend's local in Castleford (for non natives, so backwater it hasn't even got a McDonalds) his brother got shitfaced on guinness. I decided to stop over at theirs and go home in the morning to get changed for work. Note: I only have the clothes I am stood up in to wear on the bus home.

Anyway, the bf and I are in the single bed asleep when I am awoken by the sound of running water...there is a figure silhouetted by the door standing bolt upright with his arms by his side. His eyes are closed and there is a look of intense relief on his face.

During the ensuing commotion the following things became clear
1. The dark figure is bf's brother who has
2. mistaken his tiny bedroom for the toilet and
3. pissed all over the floor and
4. my clothes (strewn casually on the floor) are now sodden with wee wee.

My boss was quite nice about it though
(, Mon 12 Jun 2006, 18:16, Reply)

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