Once, on a long train journey
... my brother and I were playing Travel Guess Who. During a particuarly competitive round I felt a tap-tap-tapping on my foot under the table.

It was the fellow sitting to the immediate right of my brother. He had written the word 'GEORGE' on the top of the newspaper he was reading.

Not wanting to blow my cover, I made sure that I waited until I had to guess between a few to stay in the game, before saying 'Is it George?'

And it was.

This went on for the whole journey - must have been six or seven rounds and my brother never cottoned on. Even one time when I had to guess from six remaining characters.

I never saw my accomplice again.
(Newton Crosby, Thu 17 Nov 2005, 11:14, Reply)

I was friends with a massive cheater at school
but he got chucked out for eating gazelles behind the bike sheds.
( grey kid is breakdancing to save a community centre, Thu 17 Nov 2005, 10:41, Reply)

People who link to the "I like this" link....
Look people,

I know it's become popular but I'm a priest and therefore more honest than most. But I still did the pretty blatent link. See the listing for the "Useless information" question:

www.b3ta.com/questions/uselessinformation/

(look it up via other means if you wish).....

Now that was something I did to cheat the great-lords of b3ta but I quite commonly go further:

I have a Blue Peter badge and dog collar which has got me out of many a scrape including when I went to get to see Led Zepplin. The two factors meant that I could stand at the edge of the stage, go to their back-stage party, and some of their groupies got very friendly with me! We never actually did it but they seemed to find the idea of rubbing themselves up and down a priest very good fun.

I have also used my collar to get out of speeding tickets ("I have to get to a funeral"), family events ("I have a ceremony to perform"), tea in skanky, chavvy, grease-scummed cups ("I'm full of tea from other parishioners, thanks"), baggage being scanned at airports ("Holy Water is affected by X-Rays"), builder's bills ("The roof will be paid for" - heh, who's going to take a priest to court?), Poll Tax (but that wasn't realy a cheat, it was just evil).

But the best little cheat that I play is that every week I never give my parishioners their holy stuff every week.....it's just rice paper and shit wine. I spend the money that my parish gives me on proper booze and fags.

Probably my last post here.

Even if you haven't sneezed: Bless You!

Jerry

PS: I really am a priest and it's getting just to dangerous to post on here.
( Fr_Jerry_McGwier looked over both shoulders at, Sun 20 Nov 2005, 1:10, Reply)

Not Me
But my younger brother, Chris the Thicky.

Now I've always been smarter than my younger brother Chris but the little sod is *way* better cheating than I was. Back in the mists of time we used to compete at Blockbusters (I'll have a "P" Bob) and every day I'd soundly thrash him.

And then came the week where we started playing for a pound a game. And to my astonishment, he started to thrash me. Not beat me. Not get a few more questions right than I did but absolutely cane me. As soon as Bob Holness started to ask the question, the answer would be tumbling from my terminally-stupid brothers lips.

This went on for a week and I was down a fiver before I sussed the little swine. He'd been taping the bloody episodes the day before and then memorising the answers before playing the taped episode back to me. I thought it was a live transmission as he'd also used a marker pen to black out the play LED on the video.

So who's the thicky now eh?
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Thu 17 Nov 2005, 10:23, Reply)

Girl Drink Drunk
Sorry, I can't think of anything hilarious this week but this is interesting and a little weird.

Several years ago I had a few friends that were younger than me (sort of a band of younger brothers of my actual friends) obviously at 18 it would be socially suicidal to go to parties with them but we did occasionally hang out, which is when I found out about someone who (I think) was named Timmo.

At every party they had Timmo would turn up with two bottles of vodka. Everyone would stand watching with reverential awe (the same reverential awe they used when telling me this story) as he sat down at a table in the middle of the room. He would spend a moment looking at the bottles, sizing them up like an old enemy. Quickly he would open the first one and, in the hushed silence, down half of it. No pausing for breath, no burping, no sudden explosion of vomit. Just whoomph gone. Somone would tell him when thirty minutes had gone by and he would sit down again, eyeing up the bottle ruefully and then quaff the remaining half. At the half way point he would appear slightly drunk, but not too drunk to be able to pick up the second bottle exactly 30 minutes later and knock off another half of that. Nor again, another 30 minutes later when he finished off his supply to a round of applause. Afterwards there would be slight stumbling, but not the coma that everyone would expect. This would happen at each and every party and did so for nearly a year before I was told the story.

My first reaction to it was one of awe and a sizable chunk of jealousy. Vodka was my drink. I was known for be being able to put away decent amounts of it. At 18 this is still a good thing and here I was being made to look unmanly by a kid. Worse still I was being told the story by people who looked up to me as 'cool' (ahhh those were the days) and I felt like a bit of a disappointment. Anyhow with jealously at the forefront of my mind I, obviously, instantly proclaimed he was cheating. Told them that what was in the bottles was water and not vodka and at the next party they should check. The bottles would be open already. They did. They weren't. He allowed the friend to check the bottle was unopen and then open it for him, increasing his kudos and at the same time embarass the friend for having doubted his legend. This did not go down well with the friend, which he told me in no uncertain terms.

I pondered on this for a long time with two major thoughts running through my head. The most important was a memory of a rather cool biology teacher once telling me that drinking so much was impossible. The fact he had actually given me was that nobody could drink a bottle of vodka in under 45 minutes without dying. The alcohol poisoning it would result in would be too acute for the body to cope. Despite being armed with this fact I still had doubts (obviously; it seemed this kid had managed this amazing feat without cheating). It wasn't helped by the fact I was currently reading Stephen King's IT wherein a character does exactly the same thing by snorting lemon juice. The pain this causes confuses the body long enough to get the alcohol into his system without it noticing. Stupid I know but enough to make me doubt what I knew, especially with the evidence involved.

And then, from nowhere, common sense ran out the winner and I knew the answer. When the next party was on the horizon I told the friend to wait until Timmo was distracted and then run his finger over the top of the bottle and see if he could figure out the answer. He duly did so and felt a small dent directly in the middle. Catching on quickly he turned the bottle upside down and saw the contents start to drip from the cap. Timmo turned round just in time, a look of horror crossing his face, as the friend opened the bottle himself and downed half of it, much to the amazement of everyone around.



The dimple in the cap was where Timmo stabbed the bottle with the syringe. He would painstakingly remove nearly all of the vodka from both bottles before either syringing water back into them or holding them under the tap for hours. The bit I could never understand was why he would do this at all? He sacrificed hours of his time, the chance of drinking actual alcohol at the party and went on to have to bore himself stupid by acting drunk for the entire night when he was in fact stone cold sober. Either way he became a bit of a social pariah for quite a few years afterwards and no one ever really trusted him again. I'd like to say I felt sorry for him but to lie and cheat all of your friends for an entire year just to look cool? No chance.
( Gleeballs is mostly made out of chocolate and hate., Sat 19 Nov 2005, 10:21, Reply)

The Ultimate Cheat

At a company I worked for my boss asked me to hack the system of the guy who was setting the questions for a company Treasure hunt/Quiz. This I duly did.

Armed with all of the questions and answers we then went into uber-cheat mode.

We:
Went to the pubs people had to visit the night before the Treasure hunt and altered or removed the objects they were supposed to find.

Spent an afternoon before the Treasure Hunt gathering the various objects we were supposed to gather before the hunt had even started.

But my favourite was sabotaging another teams sculpture. One of the tasks you had to do was to build something out of drinks straws. Having the collective artistic abilities of a drunken Aardvark, the best we could come up with was a Bra made out of straws. On our travels we bumped into another team who had built this incredibly detailed giraffe. It was truly a work of art and made our effort look pathetic. My boss distracted the other team and while they weren't looking, I set fire to their giraffe.

I'm a bad man.....
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Thu 17 Nov 2005, 11:55, Reply)

I can read minds
Years ago in Careers class, the teacher, who looked like Audrey Roberts with too much make up, was never there...

David Bowie, for that was his name, was seeing if anyone could read minds, so we all sat round at took turns to guess which card he was holding.

Everybody got one or two out of ten as expected. Then it was my turn.

Put my head down and covered my eyes. I got kicked in the back three times by the kid sitting on the desk behind my chair, luckily I picked up what was going on instantly. "Three I said", looking up. Over the next ten I only got one wrong, I'd miscounted. I really went to town with over acting, staring into his eyes, but not in a gay way, rubbing my temples, etc...

By this point Mr Bowie was getting seriously freaked out being a fully paid up god botherer. Everyone had realised that the chap sitting behind Mr Bowie was signalling to the chap behind me what the card was and were trying to keep straight faces.

He then spent the next few days telling everyone, including teachers I could read minds. I never did tell him.
(Yellow Car is now red, Mon 21 Nov 2005, 10:31, Reply)

When I was little I would cheat at eye tests.
I would memorise the tiny bottom line before I sat in the chair and then pretend I could read it.

It never occured to me that it was anything other than a competitive challenge.
( Peregr1n @peregr1n, Fri 18 Nov 2005, 14:27, Reply)

Porn Party
I was once at a porn party. This basically involved going to this girl's house and watching porn, looking at porn magazines and eating food shaped like porn.

There were a few of us and, as the drinks flowed, we decided to have a game of strip poker. However, not everyone knew how to play poker, so instead of messing around explaining the rules, we decided to play strip pontoon instead. It's much quicker, too, so that was a bonus.

Anyway, I was the banker so, of course, I was the one dealing the cards. And I abused my position in a disgustingly self-serving fashion. Each time I had finished dealing I would make sure there was a high card at the bottom of the deck. If there was, I would wait until someone decided to twist, and if it took them a while to decide to do so, that clearly meant it was a risky move. So, of course, I would then deal the high card from the bottom of the pack. That would usually bust their hand and they would then be required by law to remove an item of clothing.

It's not an original method of cheating by any means but, amazingly, nobody noticed. This was probably due to the drink and the fact that most people's brains were addled by the vast intake of porn throughout the night. Also, they were unlikely to be looking at the cards when there was such a grand display of nudity and fornication all around.

Before long, I was sitting there with most of my clothes on while surrounding me were naked people. Needless to say, much jimmynudgery ensued!

I was only young and I'm not proud of what I did.
(stusut79, Thu 17 Nov 2005, 12:17, Reply)

GCSE in fictional P0RN.
Taking my seat in the exam hall, it was June 2001. I suddenly realised that I had done no revision for my English Literature exam. "F*cksocks" I said, "How can I possibly get a good grade now?"

Well, listen up kids, I presumed that it was more than likely to be a male marking my paper and what do males like more than anything else in the whole entire world? P0rn.

I felt that I had nothing to lose. So I wrote a lovely spine tingling erotica story on the off chance that my judgement was correct.

I got an A, so I presume I judged right.

*This is 100% fact*

(I am aware that this is not strictly cheating, but I'm guessing that my examiner cheated on his wife with Handy McHand and in my world that constitutes as a form cheating therefore this story is not only brilliant but also relevant)
(Spoil Me please, oh, please, Tue 22 Nov 2005, 14:31, Reply)

cheating is bad
When I was about seven I traced a picture of a rabbit out of a book then told my whole family I had drawn it freehand. The terrible thing is I actually got the idea out of a book I read at school titled "Cheating is Bad" which told the story of a girl who did the same thing...only she didn't get away with it like I did. Loser.
(mrmistoffeles, Thu 17 Nov 2005, 17:23, Reply)

So pathetic, yet still a source of shame
When I was just a kid I cheated on school sports day in the egg-and-spoon race... but I had my reasons.

You see, we'd had a practice race the week before. The scool budget not stetching to a couple of dozen eggs, we'd all been given egg-sized lumps of plasticine to run with. Everyone (except me) immediatly pressed their lump into the spoon, sticking it in place, and belted down the track. I wobbled along behind carefully balancing my 'egg'. I finished last, angry and tearful at the unsportsmanlike behaviour of my classmates. I think I even complained to the teacher.

Come the day of the race, again there were no eggs, but there was no plasticine either. Instead we were given small potatoes! No sticking the 'egg' to the spoon this time, or so everyone thought. The first time my starchy load hit to the grass I was struck by a sneaky idea. Picking up the spud, I jammed the end of the spoon into it, just a few millimetres under the skin so at a distance it would look like I was carrying it, and with a wobbly sprint and many elaborate 'whoops I almost lost it that time!' arm movements I crossed the line first, scored a point for my house and took the potato as a 'souvenir' so it couldn't be inspected.

No apologies for the size of my potatoes or the length of my spoon.
(Plyck, Fri 18 Nov 2005, 14:04, Reply)

I once cheated during a uni exam
it's like this, I was told that the exam was comming, and I was unsure what to do at first, then I had this brilliant idea, and I have never been caught.

First of all, I bought lots of books on the subject, quite a few in fact, and now here's the clever bit, I started to read them! Yes I actually read the books.

I discovered this technique is very effective for cheating at exams, the trick is to memorise as much about the subject as you can, and the answers will be there in your heaad when you need them!
( Squiggy Alloria makes theme parks., Thu 17 Nov 2005, 10:40, Reply)

it begins quite young
The following story is a true story of how one little boy learned at the tender age of four that women are not to be trusted, how the genders differ fundamentally and how women though considered the weaker species by some ignorant dopes out there are in fact cunning shrewd devious sneaky cheaty things.

The tale begins and ends during the late sixties in an average living room in an average three bedroom house on an average suberban estate in an average part of southern Ireland. The breadwinner is away winning bread and the proud housewife tends proudly to the housework while the then three children play in their childlike way at this and that. The eldest upstairs reading her book while the younger two, a boy aged four and a cute little girl aged three a glance at whom one would suspect her mouth to be a place where butter could not possibly melt, played between themselves downstairs.

It was alsmost time for father to arrive home and as it was friday the two youngest had become sometimes accustomed to recieving small sweet edible pressies every so often, generally coinciding with pay day for the man of the house. They waited hopefully and patiently.

Sure enough the working man returned with two distinctly different packets of sweeties for his two little miracles. 'here you go young man' he said to mark, the little boy, 'your favorites', 'and here you go too maggie my pet, your favs aswell' delight ensued and father went to another room to greet his wife and do the usual things that he would do on his return from the workplace.

What occured next left Mark permanently scarred for many years and unable to trust females and is it no wonder . . . . you see what happened was this . . . Maggie turned to Mark and says in her three year old language . . . 'hey maky, we swop sweeties today for a change?'

poor innocent thick ignorant mark forever wanting to please his baby sis saw no problem with this and says . . . 'ok mag mags, here you go.' Mark recounts the next episode thusly, Maggie, normally a slow thoughtfull diner literally shoved one sweet after another into her gob chewing and swallowing simultaneously while Mark looked on in awe, his packet as yet untouched... 20 or so seconds passed and maggie now stood over an empty sweet packet smiling at poor stoopid fuckwitted mark still clueless as to the little demons plan. She began to cry, a loud bawl getting the father up from his cup of tea to investigate what the woe was . . . he entered to room to see maggie bawling, an empty sweet packet and Mark holding the full packet of the sweets that he had given to her, her favourites.... 'Mark ate all my sweets' maggie blubbed through reptilian tears . . . WHAT ! excalimed the father as he snatched the packet from mark clipped him round the ear and handed them to his innocent wronged widdul baby girl before leaving the room and getting back to his tea.

Maggie proceeded to slowly eat one sweet after another in a very teasing manner in front of Mark, rubbing her belly and mmmm mmmm mmmmming all the way, waving each one around for a bit before munching it.

the little bitch.

She of course laughs now when the story is told and claims not to remember her cheating ways as an infant, Mark however has never forgotten. He has learned to trust and married several years ago and now has two young ones of his own. He is always sure to conduct thurough investigations when his judicial capacity is called upon mind you.






no apologies for length and you will learn to like in an odd way the cheesy whiff
(The Cats Twat, Wed 23 Nov 2005, 20:59, Reply)

In year 8
I sat next to a lass called Lindsay in mathematics. Now, I was a pretty good mathematician back then and would regularly rank in the top 10 in our year group (of about 250)

Lindsay didn't seem that clever when you spoke to her but often got about the same marks as me. Which was a coincidence as she sat next to met in year 8. And come to think of it, in year 7 too!

Anyway, I finally noticed that she was copying every bloody answer I wrote down. It wasn't difficult to cheat as the questions were 100 multiple choice questions with 5 alternative answers.

So, at the end of year 8 tests, I asked the teacher if I could purposely get the answers wrong. We devised a strategy whereby, if I thought the answer was A, I'd circle B. If I thought it was B, I'd circle C.....and if I thought the answer was E, I'd circle A.

So, the end of year 8 results come:

Me: 96%
Lindsay: 3%

Yay me!
(wonderbrawl was pronounced dead on, Sat 19 Nov 2005, 23:59, Reply)

Hmmm, cheating..
I think this counts as cheating..

I remember when i was 10, i really wanted this GI Joe/Action Force figure called (Shockwave was his name, like a blue ninja thing rather like Mortal Kombat's Sub-Zero) from an unnamed large supermarket chain.

I had £1 pocket money left, but the figure was £3.. and i knew this one was quite rare it would be snapped up almost as soon as i left the store.. so i had to have it right away.

So.. when my parents went shopping around the store for the boring stuff like vegetables, i stayed at the toy section thinking up a very elaborate plan of unrivaled genius.

I realised that the stigma of 'thief' was not going to be popular with the police.

So, pondering what i could do to solve my dilemma.. i cunningly hunted nearby shelves for the sticker price labels from other items.. i found a £1.50 one that i could use.. without any suspicion to spring my plan..

As i was perpetrating this genius fraud, i was like a ninja myself, watching every move of the ceiling camera.. stealth was not the word as i disguised my motives.

I proceeded to remove the original price label and replace it with the new one with a much better price.. it was tricky, if i tore it my plan was finished.

.. to make sure i was'nt found out, i replaced the old label onto the item's label i 'borrowed'.. someone got the sting on that item that day, but it was my goal to complete this fraud.. i was solely focused on owning the figure.

Now, when my parents came back, i told them about the toy i saw, and it's now cheaper and questionable price tag. They agreed, so off we went..

So, we took it to the helpdesk, where they called up the price immediately on the computer. To my joyous delight, the computer actually matched the price i had doctored..! (It still had original item number, that's the clever part)

This was a truly bazoo moment, but i didn't give the game away, i did'nt steal anything, i just used my new found iniative to succeed, as is the purpose of life.

I happily had several months of GI Joe fun with 'Shockwave' and he served in many a fantasy GI Joe battle killing many evil badsters in action and attaining hero status amongst his GI crew.

My life at that moment was absolute joy, as i also was also treated to a bag of my favourite sweets that afternoon too. =)

See, crime does pay. :0)
(Pua'a ega-ega How much chuck norris could a woodchuck chuck?, Thu 17 Nov 2005, 13:56, Reply)

of course it's own work...
The Ultimate Cheat

At a company I worked for my boss asked me to hack the system of the guy who was setting the questions for a company Treasure hunt/Quiz. This I duly did.

Armed with all of the questions and answers we then went into uber-cheat mode.

We:
Went to the pubs people had to visit the night before the Treasure hunt and altered or removed the objects they were supposed to find.

Spent an afternoon before the Treasure Hunt gathering the various objects we were supposed to gather before the hunt had even started.

But my favourite was sabotaging another teams sculpture. One of the tasks you had to do was to build something out of drinks straws. Having the collective artistic abilities of a drunken Aardvark, the best we could come up with was a Bra made out of straws. On our travels we bumped into another team who had built this incredibly detailed giraffe. It was truly a work of art and made our effort look pathetic. My boss distracted the other team and while they weren't looking, I set fire to their giraffe.

I'm a bad man.....

[Mod Edit: see me after class]
(e p f, Thu 17 Nov 2005, 12:52, Reply)

Cheating
I got fed up of all this 'courting' and 'making an effort' lark so used rohypnol instead

Job done!
(Keyser Soze, Tue 22 Nov 2005, 16:22, Reply)

Lol! I once cheated at a blood test rofl!




...Now I have AIDS.
( Naive Amoeba Bored Cig, Mon 21 Nov 2005, 14:18, Reply)

Cheats prosper, sort of.
1st year of secondary school ... Poetry competition, which was compulsory for English lesson. Now I'm not the flowery, poetry type and frankly I couldnt be arsed. So, a quick skip through a limeric book by Michael Rosen, a carefully chosen suitable 'poem' plus an additional last verse made up to match, and I was done.
Unfortunately I won the contest outright, beating the rest of the school and had to go up in assembly to collect my prize (a totally crap signed book - 'The little Prince').
It wouldnt have been so bad if, and this is god's honest truth, Mr Rosen hadnt been invited to school 6 months later and I had to read my award winning poem out to him and assembled teachers at a presentation.
He shot me a very dodgy glance midway through the recital, but said nowt thankfully. I made my excuses and legged it the moment I'd finished.
On the back of this I was entered into the inter-schools clever kids contest. Needless to say we didnt get far ...
(darfbozo, Fri 18 Nov 2005, 17:06, Reply)

Don't know if its relevant - you decide.
Been with my girlfriend for 11 years now.... A while ago she asked how many partners I had been with (cos we had reached that honesty stage).... Cue to me going...

Er...1....2.3....4,...er 5...6...you....8,errr 9...

She was not amused.
(knuks Lurking for 12+ years, Fri 18 Nov 2005, 9:41, Reply)

Tears and summer holidays
My parents were strict when I was younger. They shouted at me when I was 14 for getting B's and C's on my report (there were some A's too!).

I got a right telling off for that. Summer was ruined for me. I was guilt-tripped into not going out or having any sort of fun - Constantly reminded that I was a failure and unless I put more effort in next year my life would go down the drain.

Damn, it irritates me now thinking about how awful I felt that summer. Anyway I sure as hell wasn't going to get into the same situation the following holiday, and was more determined than ever to hand over a report gleaming with A's. So what was the next thing I did when I returned back to the delights of education the following September?


.
.
.



Went to the local PC store and I bought a scanner. Not one report after was left un-doctored. A healthy mixture of A's and A/B's were presented to my parents, hot off the press.

The following holidays were fun again, and the extra pocket money for succeeding soon covered the cost of the the scanner. The rest bought me new SNES games which provided hours of smug fun. Lush.
(NickXX, Tue 22 Nov 2005, 21:30, Reply)

I only cheated once in my life.

When I was about 5 I got Guess Who for Christmas. When assembling the two boards I put them in sequence with one another so that I could work out who the other person was when they put down theirs on the first go. Quite ingenious for a littl'un - I even waited a few goes before guessing as not to get caught.

Everyone thought I was a child Guess Who Prodigy until my uncle worked out the very simple sequence... I'm still not trusted on my own with board games to this day.
(Chom, Fri 18 Nov 2005, 15:58, Reply)

I used to
edit duke nukem levels, and add "secret stashes" of weapons. They were useful, when I played a network game with my friend, as he did not know where to find them, and I always seemed to have plenty of ammo!

It was quite simple really, I used the build editor (ah, those were the days!) and edited each level. I would usually hide my room and put one of those "one-way" walls over the entrance, so that although the room was invisible, I could still see what was going on outside, I could even fire from in there, making it a good sniping position.

This went on for a few hours, until one of the times I was hiding in my secret room, when my friend came over and looked at my screen!!! He then found it! Can you believe it, he actually had the nerve to look at my screen! What a cheat.
( Squiggy Alloria makes theme parks., Thu 17 Nov 2005, 10:23, Reply)

Not me...
but my Father.
He's a Lecturer in Archaeology at a well-known Uni on America's East Coast. He was marking an essay by a student, and thought that some of the passages seemed rather familiar.
Indeed, they were familiar. Very familiar.

My Father wrote the damn book they'd been copied from.
(The Empress it seems you CAN polish a turd!, Mon 21 Nov 2005, 12:02, Reply)

Where's Wally?
This is how sad I am.

I used to love Where's Wally (Waldo for our 'Merkin friends) books. I think at one point I owned every single one that they'd made up until that point. Upon finding one in the attic a few years ago I can't for the life of me work out why. Anyway, I knew the location of Wally on each and every single page. Even the really difficult ones at the end.

One year, when I was about 9 or 10, my parents were in charge of a stall at a school fair, so I had to get up at seven on a Saturday morning to help put the stall up. As it happens, our stall was right next to a Where's Wally stall, where they'd blown up with a photocopier one of the really difficult pictures (with several clones of Wally and only one "true" Wally). If you could stick a pin over where Wally was, you'd win a prize.

Aha! As I said, I already had every single Where's Wally book - including the one this picture was taken from. As I was right next to the stall, I was able to put my pin in first before any of the punters. Wham! Right on top of the "real" Wally that I had found at least a year or so previously. Straight in the middle of his fizzog too, just to avoid any arguments later.

The following Monday morning, during assembly, the winner of the prize was announced... and I'd won! Finally, for the first time in my life, I'd actually won something! Admittedly, I'd been able to cheat by (a) knowing the picture off by heart and (b) being able to get there first, but I couldn't give a shit. So, I went up to accept my prize, which was...

Well, I should have known. A sodding Where's Wally book. One that I already owned. Arses.

(Incidentally, if anybody wants a copy of "Where's Wally in Hollywood", I'm sure that I could find it for you somewhere)

I'd apologise for length, but that wouldn't take away the pain.
( Chrico is a bounder and a cad, Sat 19 Nov 2005, 19:08, Reply)

not so much cheating as being sneaky, but...
as a wee nipper visiting my grandma, i was rather disgruntled to only be allowed one biscuit with tea, when the grownups were all allowed 2!

They all went out into the garden to look at some new plants; the perfect opportunity, you would think, to have a sneaky biccy. But no, my mother counted them all before they left the room! curses!

My evil little mind took offence at this, and thought "well, if I can't have more, than neither can they!". So I licked all the biscuits.

When they came back in, and someone reached for the biscuits, I said "I've licked that one." They reached for another: "I've licked that one too."

Evil me!


...evil me got a spanking. and they ate them anyway, knowing that i didn't have herpes or anything. dammit, foiled again!
(The Empress it seems you CAN polish a turd!, Fri 18 Nov 2005, 16:21, Reply)

Cheating little shit....
I was pretty good at French at school, but when the answers to a test come your way, what do you do!? Do you scrawl the answers all over your fucking arm and read them at your leisure through the cuff gap in your shirt sleeve? Damn right you do...

I used fountain pen ink and armed myself with one of those ink eraser pens and craftily removed the evidence as I finished the test. I got a rather impressive 100%. Sweet.

So there I am later that evening, showing off like a cunt to my overjoyed parents. Then it happened... My Dad says to me "What's that on your arm?" and I stare in absolute horror at the answers which have miraculously reappeared.

Cue a lifetime of mistrust and snide remarks at every test I do... Looking back, I would have rather been caught wanking a goat into my dead Gran's mouth.
(tinpixel, Thu 17 Nov 2005, 19:28, Reply)

Lisa Warren
Lisa was my partner in crime when it came to the weekly spelling test. You had to swap your list with the person opposite, and mark each others spellings. We both got 20 out of 20...every week.....for the whole year.

It was only in the final year of middle school I began to fancy her like mad.
She pinched my bottom once - really made my day! We were only 11 so it seemed WELL SAUCY.
(BourbonBiscuits, Thu 17 Nov 2005, 13:52, Reply)

I'm such a lazy cunt.
I make heroes and adventurers run errands for me, just because I can't be arsed.
(NPC, Sat 19 Nov 2005, 12:33, Reply)