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This is a question Bullies

My mum told me to stand up to bullies. So I did, and got wedgied every day for a month. I hated my boss.

Suggested by Mariam67

(, Wed 13 May 2009, 12:27)
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This question is now closed.

I was quite badly assaulted when I was 16
Sexually, in fact. On school premises. From a guy who'd been sexually harassing me for a good 18 months.

I got slammed against a wall, choked mostly unconscious and then assaulted with hands. At 0815 on a Thursday morning.

But I got my own back on the bastard. I never told anyone, dumped my boyfriend and went lesbian.

That showed the little fucker alright. F.A.C.T.

Length? I've repressed that particular memory.

It's good to joke about it.

First post on QOTW. I'd say be nice, but so many of you are the most brilliantly bitchy people who constantly make my day that I wouldn't insult you with such an entreaty.
(, Wed 20 May 2009, 22:02, 4 replies)
Bullying is natural - all species do it.
Even sticky notes

(, Wed 20 May 2009, 21:34, 8 replies)
I'd thought to avoid this QOTW
as frankly, I was worried it'd bring out my nasty side. The side that doesn't want to hear it. The deep, dark snide voice that didn't want to hear a bunch of adults whinging about how cruel the world had been to them, and how all their problems could be attributed to how a bunch of kids weren't very nice to them when they were young. The side that secretly thinks these people bring it on themselves a bit. The side that sagaciously considers Darwin and the Law of the Jungle, and settles back in my armchair under my portrait of Thatcher for a nice cup of tea and a read of the Daily Mail. The side that has, on several occasions, declared it to be a principle that, except in certain extreme circumstances, what you make of your life is down to you, that we live in an increasingly whiny, self-aggrandising and self-entitled culture where no-one takes responsibility for their own actions; it's always the fault of their parents, childhood bullies, teachers, neighbour's hamster, etc.

I wonder, though.

I didn't get on with my mum. I'm not going to start rattling on about it here - suffice to say, it wasn't good, and went a bit beyond the normal spectrum of poor familial relations. Luckily, I have a wonderful dad, which I've always felt went a way towards cancelling it out. Anyway, for as long as I can remember I've had a tendency to blindly believe that if someone doesn't like me, it's my fault. (See first paragraph.)
Cos I was told, see.

Looking at my life in the abstract, it sounds pretty good. I've had lots of friends - always have - am well-educated, never been picked on, and apart from the fact that I have No Career and No Prospect Of One In This Stupid City, I'm quite happy.

The problem is this. I feel that I, er, have no personality. Or rather, I have too many, and none of them are genuine. I'm completely different things to different people, to the extent that friends of mine who've met each other have been astonished at each other's accounts of me. A friend once described me as a social butterfly, which sounds flattering until you realise what a butterfly actually does. It fannies around, looking pretty, tra-la-la, and always keeping things very much on the surface. Then it fucks off to do the same thing on another tree. It can't stay in one place, and it's pretty much useless.

So you see, having gathered that the thing to do was to ensure people liked me by making myself appealling to them, I've bent so far out of my own shape that all I can do is be reflective of what I think the other person wants. And it's not as if it's a facade - there is no underneath. I saw an episode of Star Trek once (don't you judge me; it was on at tea-time) where there was an alien thing called an Empathic Metamorph that could completely alter itself to fit the requirements of its partner. It was very familiar.

Ach. It's not like this is crippling me or destroying my life, and as such doesn't compare with many of the tales that have obviously deeply affected folk on here. But it does bother me, sometimes.
(, Wed 20 May 2009, 20:59, 5 replies)
The bully from my bird's junior school
lived a few doors down from me, years later.

I used to hear him shagging his bird with the window open when I was playing darts in my garage.

She was a bit noisey always shouting the same thing:

Am I the only person who has interupted a game of "Round the Clock" to have a wank into an oily rag?
(, Wed 20 May 2009, 20:53, 2 replies)
Everyone gets bullied
its how you respond to being bullied that matters

Name Calling
People called me names, this hurt most of all - but who cares what other people think?

Physical violence
I gave as good as i got, to the point where people didn't hit me anymore - I was athletic once and left a bruise to be admired!
One day the name calling became too much, the anger pumped through my veins the guy was about to get a well deserved beating, a mate stood between me and the pathetic excuse for a human, I pushed my mate out of the way.... putting his head through a window... oops
The glass broke in a V shape, right above mates head, if the glass had fallen, his head would have surely fallen off
I cried (real men do cry - now shut up) and got sent to the head masters office - parents where called and asked to pay for the broken window
The answer returned was "we pay enough tax, you pay for it" ha ha my parents are great!

All the windows where laminated the next week

Bullies... stop and look at your life and work out whats wrong
(, Wed 20 May 2009, 20:11, 1 reply)
I was bullied at primary school
Worst fucking 5 years of my life from year 1 to year 5.

I had the misfortune to be raised an English catholic, from a lazy arsed catholic family to be sure but that did mean that I got dragged to church once or twice a month.

So fuck you say.

Alas this was central Scotland in the 70s and in their infinite wisdom my parents had decided to send me to the nearest primary school rather than the catholic place a couple of miles away.

A sensible plan you say, considerate even.

And it would have been had not the said nearest primary school been infested with the Neanderthal spawn of a bunch of orange order grandees who proceeded to make my English catholic life a form of terror even Lovecraft would have backed away from as being too baroque.

Oddly it wasn't the beatings, the constant verbal abuse, the creative and imaginative terror being inflicted that got to me. It was having my sandwiches nicked and hurled into a field every day for five years that really grated. My mum isn't a great cook but she can make great sandwiches when she wants to.

Anyway, being wise beyond my years I already knew that complaining to teachers was pointless and that my mum couldn't do much. I didn't even consider asking my dad, I mean how could a mild mannered man like him help? He's not exactly a man of action.

He is however a man of quiet patience and thought.

After I came home one Friday in a particularly bad way even my parents could see something was wrong, the words "fienian IRA cunt" cut into the skin of my back with a biro are usually a dead give-away. I vaguely remember my mother in tears, going to call the police etc I do remember very clearly my dad going very quiet and seeming somehow to grow somewhat. I remember being cleaned up and the sounds of my dad going out, I remember my mother rushing to the stairs and with a very strange voice quietly saying “Doug, don’t!” a mixture of half pleading, half terror with a hint of smothered sob.

Very odd form a ten year olds point of view, and I remember thinking that something very odd had happened. Well more off than having an impromptu tattoo given to you by a gang of thugs. Which by then was only a little bit odd to be honest.

I don’t remember my dad coming back that night, mind you that could have been because I was asleep by 8pm smothered in that horrible pink antiseptic which smells of tcp, Germoline perhaps.

So roll on the weekend and I drag my sorry arse to school on Monday morning full of the Joie de vivre of another day of being thumped, terrified and no lunch.

And I waited.

Nothing, not even a cross word.

This utterly terrified me, I was so scared I threw my own lunch away (it wasn’t a good day at casa 314 and the sandwiches did appear to be crab paste but still). What the fuck did these fucking bastards have fucking planned for me for fucks sake? What the fuck where they going to do to me now? I was a fucking nervous wreck come 3pm and I ran all the way home in a state of wild terror.

Dad comes home at about 6:30ish, looks at me, still twitching as the fear grounded itself. “how was school?” he enquires “ok?”, I nod dementedly as he pottered off somewhere whistling to himself.

Tuesday morning. Nothing.

Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, the week after, the whole month, the remainder of the year, the rest of my time in that fucking shite hole. Nothing. No one ever hit me again, no one was too friendly mind, but no one called me names and life was a lot better all over.

To this day I’ve no idea what he did or even if he did anything. I didn't care, I got to eat lunch, sometimes, when it wasn’t crab paste or that other shimpams filth

Night all.
(, Wed 20 May 2009, 19:24, 6 replies)
Most of the stories this week...
...refer to bullying when we were kids / at school.
There's a lot of workplace bullying out there too. I lost someone very close to me recently due to extreme workplace bullying. He carbon-monoxided himself in his car (no, not a Honda Accord).
He couldn't handle it anymore and left behind a wife and daughter and a lot of grieving relatives and friends.
The bully knew he was suffering Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and still persisted in bullying him.
What happened to the bully? Sweet FA.
(, Wed 20 May 2009, 16:47, 6 replies)
This happened yesterday so I find it is appropriate for this qotw
It was a cloudy missedable day. But this mattered not for I was to hit the town that evening for a night of drinking and heavy metal. It was going to be a good way to celebrate my 21st birthday and I planned on forgetting my studies for 1 night of good old fashioned intoxication.

So it being 3pm me and my housemate matt (for that is his name) decided that some bacon sandwiches were in order but alas we had no butter! Bugger thinks I.
To the shops then!

We passed some young wannabe gangster types that attend the school at the end of my road. It is a typical inner city school where most of the students will probably be in prison soon after leaving.

So we take the short cut through a small alley way when we pass one of these miscreant teens on a bike. I thinks nothing of it and pass him and exit the alleyway.

Hold on a second. Where is matt? So I turn around. These teens had surrounded him outnumbering him 8 to 1. They were pushing him around and were after his wallet.

Right then. I am not going to stand for some 17 year old pikeys pushing my friend around so I dive back into the alleyway in an effort to save him.
(the following may or may not have happened)
Limbs flew as bone was hacked and flesh was torn to pieces such was the almighty strength of my assault. Heads rolled and blood was spilled. Arrows jarred in the eyes of young chav miscreants. I let out an all mighty roar such was the intensity of my rage. At last I stopped and looked around the killing field in this small alleyway. Matt looked appauled by the bloody carnage that surrounded us. Serves them right says I. And we went and brought some butter.

Bacon sandwiches had never tasted so good.

(In reality I got pushed over but managed to grab matts wallet. I was then kicked in the head repeatedly until I heard matt eventually say give them the wallet schteven. If I had not been snapped out of my adrenaline rush I probably would have been kicked unconcious. Luckily they did not get my wallet or my iPhone off me so I rang the police and wasted the evening giving a statement at the police station. I did however go out after and get very very drunk.)

Not quite bullying as such but it is close enough to squeeze into this qotw.
(, Wed 20 May 2009, 16:33, 2 replies)
Big Bully Target
My dad left me when I was a couple of days old, maybe he saw what a born loser I was and decided to leave, maybe not. I don't know. My mum raised me, taught me never to fight and always backdown. To become a coward. No wonder I became such a blatent target for bullies.

My Boss, what a bitch, abusing every ounce of power she had over me in a bid to use my misery to make her life seems a little bit less pointless.

My girlfriend, the sexy goth whore who's admittided to me at least half of her "indescresions" she never mentioned that she was fcuking my best friend and I never mentioned it but I knew.

My "best" friend. Only friend more like it, the only person I knew that would talk to me, as long as I ignored that fact he was getting more action from my girlfriend than I did.

Even the thugs o nthe streets would hurl abuse and spit at me whenever I left my flat.

My life sucked ass.

That was until my dad was killed. I didn't know anything about him until one day this foxy lady bumps into me at the local megamart and tells me that my Dad died. I go to meet Dad's friends and things become very weird.

I leanr to become a kick ass mother fcuker, I take my life back, I get revenge on all the people that treated me like shit and I join the most secret organisation in the world.

And that's only the begining.

The end? Let me just say I got everything I ever Wanted.
(, Wed 20 May 2009, 16:04, 6 replies)
The Bad and Good of Bullying
I've had a few experiences with bullying in my time. The trick with bullies is you have to hit them back hard enough to discourage them from doing it again. The first time, this bully picked a fight after school. Well, I managed to get him down and then just started kicking him, over and over until I was sure I wouldn't be having any more trouble from him. Must have worked as I never saw him again.

Shortly after that, I was dispatched to military school. Things went OK for a while but there's always some kid who'll try it on. This one tried it in the showers. Luckily, I was wet and slippery as he tried to grapple me and I managed to slip away. A quick blow to the nuts and then to the face and he was down. I made a real mess of his nose and there was blood everywhere. I never saw him again either so obviously I scared him as much as the first one. He must have been real keen to get out of there.

On the upside, I did manage to get the Earth fleet to the Formic homeworld and wipe those Buggers out entirely. Result.

Thought it would make a change from Star Wars
(, Wed 20 May 2009, 15:32, 6 replies)
Does this count as bullying too?

Having your relatives make you resort to doing this should count I think.
(, Wed 20 May 2009, 15:32, Reply)
Does this class as bullying?
It made me want to vomit, cry and run away all at the same time...

(, Wed 20 May 2009, 15:20, Reply)
I need to buy a new car
and I was seriously thinking of getting a Honda Accord.

Ruined that for me haven't you, you great bunch of bullies.
(, Wed 20 May 2009, 15:10, 2 replies)
I can relate to this
being half German.
I was born in Germany but I only spent the first 5 years of my life there. My parents moved to the UK and I've spent the rest of my life here.
Yes I have a German surname but as I have an English forename and no accent you'd be hard pressed to tell my bloodline.

In school the surname was enough though and so I went various name calling and thigh slapping episodes which so many people have said are character building.

However, what really pisses me off is that these things still go on.

Some people I meet feel it's amusing and OK to take the piss with a comedy German accent, rename me "Fritz" and one or two have really gone the whole nine yards and suggested I may like to gas a Jew or two.

But please, if you are going to be xenophobic at least be consistant. That way I can deal with you as an ignorant racist cunt that you are. Don't expect me to respond to Fritz and when you finally do use my given name, and don't expect me to be civil.

Rant over, apologies for the complete and utter lack of funny and possibly tenuous QOTW linkage.
(, Wed 20 May 2009, 13:45, 16 replies)
To sum up...
"Tomkinson,you dismally untalented little creep."
(, Wed 20 May 2009, 13:35, 1 reply)
How To Deal With Bullies...
Back in the mists of time when I first started school my dad gave me some sound advice about bullies. He Said to me:

'When you go to school there will be a boy there who wants to hit you, now that is a school bully. Now all school bullies are cowards. Now, he will only hit you if he thinks you are afraid of him, so if you hit him first he will run away'.

I was expelled 2 weeks later for being the school bully.

*Gives thanks to Dave Allen*
(, Wed 20 May 2009, 12:21, Reply)
I used to be quite slim
and cut a bit of a dash round the town , lately though I find I've put on weight and somehow can't reduce the wobbly mound of flesh that hangs over my trousers and seems to give people the right to call me tubbs , fatty etc .

Oh , hang on , you said bullies ....
(, Wed 20 May 2009, 12:02, Reply)
bullying has a pleasant side
i never got on with the INCROWD for reasons that are too exhaustively apparent already. I took to hanging out with a gang of similar misfits,real robin-hood type of merry men, who read and did the whole intellectual-library-type-thing. We were all being put down by the cool kids, and all that hackneyed shit.
It tailed off a lot towards the end of fourth year and by this time I'd made some great friends. In fact,some of the nerdy kidsv were fast making friends with their tormentors, once they sprouted boobs and social lives.All good,yes? But something sinister was happening to our band of bretheren.I looked around in wild-eyed horror and realised that my gang of misfits were turning,slowly,subtly into the gossipy,trashy shits that we'd been hiding from in our little group.
When we left at the end of sixth year there wasn't a single one who I could stand being in the same room as. Our bullies had done the most unforgivable thing to their prey - they'd turned them into the same worthless shitheads that they were.
So RIP Studio Group - you were good while you lasted. In my memory,at least, you remain whole. But I guess even school society was too strong for you.
(, Wed 20 May 2009, 11:44, Reply)
My school life
was plagued with all sorts of bullying, in fact that's pretty much all I can remember.

The first few months of senior school saw my "best" friends turn on me as it made them look cool to everyone else. So I got bullied for the first 2 years of school and was constantly ripped on by my 2 "best" friends which caused me to have to go and socialise with the "skanks" if you know what I mean. I had to see the head of house about being bullied and she could understand, and was on my side, "apparently".

Anyway, the turning point came one day whilst sitting in English, I had one of the 2 mates that decided to rip on me; offered me out for a fight on the field after school. 'Fuck it!' I thought, "Yeah, I'll fight you, and kick your fucking arse". You should of seen his face change.

After school I ripped the fuck out of him psychologically and gave him a royal kicking. This then saw the tables turned and I managed to get my own back for the remaining 3 years of school, and yes I got my own back well and truely.

But, the most annoying thing, the head of house then declared that I was a lier and never got bullied in the first place. In fact, she signed my year book with

"Nick, master of the put down and cuss."

Bitch, with a fucking coffee stain on her face...
(, Wed 20 May 2009, 10:46, 3 replies)
Bullies are like a box of chocolates
Some are hard, some have soft centres.

But they all have something in common.

You feel really guilty after you've eaten about ten of them in one sitting.
(, Wed 20 May 2009, 10:40, 1 reply)
I wasn't going to post, I can' t add anything that hasn't been said already..
So have a pearoast from a while back, we need more funny...

Bless her...
My elder Sparklet is known for her outspokenness, always has either suffered, or made others suffer for it, but she's a great girl and I'm very proud of her..

She was bullied to hell at her secondary school, there was one yound lad who had decided it was his "Turn" to make her life a misery, which he did, for the rest of the term. Then he was off school with a weird form of bone cancer, resulting in an amputation of one of his arms up to the elbow. During his illness, the school went into overdrive collecting money for him, extolling his virtues as Captain of the school rugby team, top student and all round nice guy, which pissed her off no end, given how he'd treated her. So much so that when the collection came round at parents evening, she asked the collector what the plans were for the funds raised, they replied that they were compiling a list of suggestions, and stood with pens poised.

"How's about half a juggling lesson?" asked my dear daughter, before turning on her heel, marching off and leaving me to deal with it..
(, Wed 20 May 2009, 10:20, 6 replies)
Not Fair
I keep gettin bullied by the same person over and over and it's killing me.

My boss keeps telling me to do work and shouts at me when im trying to get some sleep.

What a prick
(, Wed 20 May 2009, 9:45, Reply)
Not me
Some time ago I knew this huge black guy, he was a bit of a hard case and did pick on LOADS of people; I think even his own "friends" were scared of him. He not only threatened violence, he ofetn dished it out too. I guess he had some fucked up childhood or something? Broken home? Anyway, he got his comeuppance when the guys he and his gang bullied blew up his Death Star.
(, Wed 20 May 2009, 8:21, 3 replies)
Late in the week for a good reason . . .
and I doubt my wisdom in writing this on a public forum, but anyway . . .

Originally, I had far more up here, with my views on the whole training scheme . . . I have since deleted some of that text, as it could get me into a whole lot of trouble.

The link below is about someone I knew, and a very good registrar . . .


Why did he have no "outward" signs of depression? Because 1) he did't want to seem "weak" and 2) the distinguished consultants he worked with probably coudln't have been able to tell - they don't necessarily want to know about your personal life anyway.

Edit: 1. the garbage about "safe hours" later in the article won't make a lick of difference . . . the "good" registrars will simply not record the extra hours worked, but will hang around doing the extra work to make the bosses happy. Been there, done that . . .
2. The hospital in the article is well-known for this behaviour: it's a culture of bullying that has persisted since I was a medical student there (10 years ago).
(, Wed 20 May 2009, 8:12, 3 replies)
I feel left out
I feel a bit left out of this QOTW. Yeah, there were bullies at my school, but unlike a hell of a lot of people on here, I havent seen or heard of them for 20 years. Sadly, this means I cant gloat about their drug addiction and crappy lives, and cant refuse them a job when they come for interview at my company, and neither can I get all Crouching Tiger on them with my new found ninja skills.
(, Wed 20 May 2009, 8:02, 2 replies)
Years ago, working an infant school dinner lady, I was keen to sort out bullies.
One used to walk up to other kids, engage them in conversation and then suddenly kick them. Most kids were terrified of him. I kept a close eye on him but couldn't prevent every kick.

Anyway... to cut a long story short, when a teacher had the genius idea of making him wear flipflops so he couldn't kick, he found himself on the receiving end for a change with lots of adult blind eyes turned.

I recently heard that he's been in prison for knife offences as an adult. He can't be more than 24. I somehow doubt he'll see 30.
(, Wed 20 May 2009, 6:25, 2 replies)
a bullies bully
at middle school i was bullied every day main because i was crap at footie and supported liverpool. After we left went to secondary school
and a week in to the new school it started again after few months i got depressed. and got very low then friend died. it was at that point i turned day after his funeral they started saying i killed him then red mist desended i picked up ring leader by neck pushed him over table and smacked two of his hench men kicked a third one in the nuts (i was out numbered thats my excuse) fourth one just lauched my self at his chest breaking few ribs.:)
After that point i knowen as a nutter but got respect and im ashamed to say i started to bully the weaker kids, but after few months i got bored of same old faces same old screaming.decided to defend the weaker kids and bully the bullies took few weeks but then the kids who were beening bullied told me who was picking on them and i dish out a form of justice.

sorry about spelling
(, Wed 20 May 2009, 0:00, 7 replies)

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