an engineering chum of mine has had a brainwave
he's somehow figured a way to harness the hardening properties of newtonian liquids such as custard powder and water mix, and the slipperiness of butter, to create a new type of anti-tank round for the military. it's kinda hush-hush at the moment, all i can say is that it's looking very promising.. seems they contain more kinetic energy than a regular shell, are easier to transport as it's essentially a liquid most fo the time, and once inside the powder plays havoc with the inhabitants of the tanks and the systems within, rendering them useless and untenable.
they reckon it's ushering in a new age in anti-tank warfare.

the food sabot age

*gets coat in preparation*
(UppityDamnPrimate LET'S OPEN THIS F*CKING PIT UP, Mon 22 Sep 2008, 12:44, 3 replies)

Booze (or not)
Working in a pub you meet lots of nice people, unfortunately you also have to suffer more than your fair share of cockends.

Now, I have a large number of footy style knobbers who drink in my establishment and one week a particularly loud, mono-brain celled chap fucked me off and I vowed to get him back. The next week he struts in, not bothering to appologise for last weeks penistry and orders a bottle of Becks, and so it starts. I take an ice cold bottle out of the fridge, open it and plonk it in front of him.

Now he proceeds to drink another 8 odd bottles, getting louder and more obnoxious with each one.

Once again he's getting on my nerves. His loud and grating voice letting everyone in the postcode know his small and worthless opinion on every subject. So, I go over to tell him to wind his neck in and stop being so obnoxious.

"Well, you shouldn't have served me so much beer," he tells me. To which, with a big shit eating grin, I can only reply by picking up one of his empty bottles off the table and pointing at it. "It's no alcohol Becks, you idiot. That's all I've been serving you today".

His mates start pissing themselves and taking the piss out of their "friend", who it transpires has managed to get "drunk" of 9 bottles of 0.05% lager. To make matters even better, he ran out of money, couldn't afford to buy another drink, his mates wouldn't buy him one and he got the appropriate response from me when he asked for a tab.

Yes, sometimes I like the power I have in my job.
( monkeyboyalpha jumping on the bandwagon since, Mon 22 Sep 2008, 12:41, 18 replies)

This sandwich tastes salty
There was a particularly detestable young lad in our junior school who used to give a mate and I a lot of grief. He was a bit bigger and on the odd occasion would help himself to stuff from our lunchbox with only a punch as a way of thanks.

During the course of the term my mate was unlucky enough (or lucky depending on how you view this story) to have a nasty fall on his bike. He managed to scrape the whole side of his leg and it left a huge roasty (in layman's terms that's a large scab). One evening in the bath the moisture of the water caused the scab to come away from the skin slightly. My friend then pulled it off and was left with a lovely round specimen about 8cm across.

Being of the age where something such as a scab is something not to be wasted he decided to bring it into school the following day. We hatched an ingenious plot and that lunch the scab made its debut on a cheese and ham sandwich. By placing ourselves in prime location for the arrival of the aforementioned bully we were able to engineer the situation so that he ate the scab sandwich in its entirety. Never before and never since has the act of being bullied provided me with such a massive amount of satisfaction.
(The Archduke of South London I'm in your Girlfriend eating her organs, Mon 22 Sep 2008, 12:26, 2 replies)

Slurry Curry
Whilst at Uni, I lived in a standard group flat-share with 7 mates. All of us brought something to the group/had our inherent weaknesses. 'Barto's' was food. In short, he was a greedy bastard intent on taking/finishing your meals.

Cue plan.

Whilst Barto was out drinking, we made a lovely curry up, naans, sauce, the works. Was lovely. Only this curry was made with a special extra. Dog food.

Cunningly left on a table with a half-eaten naan, and discarded cutlery, the trap was set. Barto enters.

A few bites in, the type of curry was questioned, as it tasted 'funny'. At this stage there a few of us watching, deseprately trying to suppress our laughter, crying tears of horrific joy. More mouthfuls, until one of the group tells him that he looks "woof as hell" and another like a "dog's dinner".

It was at this point, an empty dog food can was shown, a plate lobbed across the room and a tearful Barto stormed out amidst hilarity.

Was the £250 lost deposit worth it? Absolutely!
( elgordo, Mon 22 Sep 2008, 12:25, Reply)

Party games
Not one of mine, however...

One of my mates told me about some aquaintances at his old uni who used to liven up house parties by playing an amusing little game they liked to call 'hide the poo'.

As the name suggests one would avail themselves of the host's facilities, or possibly bring along one they had sculpted earlier, and then use all of their creativity, ingenuity and cunning to hide their log somewhere about the house.

The rules: the owner of the last poo to be discovered is the winner.

Usually they were found in pretty short order as the participants were always pissed and put them in crap hiding places (pun indeed intended). Anyway, part of the fun(?) was that they were supposed to be found during the party. Ideally by the unsuspecting.

At the end of one party, however, a single poo lay undiscovered and remained so for several days.

When pressed as to where he had concealed it the lad would not say, but it's hiding place was eventually revealed...

In a fit of genius he had lifted a tub of margarine from the fridge, emptied it out and placed his offering inside, put the margarine on top and returned the tub to the fridge.

It took several mornings of toast for breakfast before before the final poo was discovered!
(Dr. Scambolic, Mon 22 Sep 2008, 12:14, 9 replies)

Petty jokes go awry.....
Workmate thinks he´s funny.We are both dancers and practical joking is the name of the game.

He throws talc at me before i go onstage.
I retaliate with itching powder in the trousers.
He kicks me in the shins before curtain up.
I advertise his "services" in the local newspaper in the masseur section.
He puts a LIGHTBULB in my shoe(which I had to put on rather quickly.....).A step too far and I congratulate him on being the "winner" before we start severing each other´s limbs
etc..

However,the fool was trying to bulk up and religiously drank a Protein shake before the show.So,for about a month,I added ever-growing doses of potent laxative to it.
The first week was uneventful,but by the fourth week he was worried that he had a stomach bug,as he "can´t stop shitting".
I came clean the day he actually pooed himself onstage (not enough for the audience to notice,but certainly enough for him to cry about it),and countered his threats of revenge by stating the obvious fact that I have no scruples and could/should have done a lot worse.
He was very nice to me after that.
(shirleytemplesarse, Mon 22 Sep 2008, 12:09, Reply)

my mate in work a few years back
had a full blown argument were he thought milk is ok to use - even when its passed its used by date, if the cap is still sealed.

Both of us marched into the staff kitchen glaring at each other. He arrogantly grabs a bottle of green top from the back of the fridge - unopened - but a week out of its use by date.

Our eyes stay locked as we try to proove the other wrong. He opens the bottle and takes a swig straight away. without smelling it. I just watch with a big grin across my face.


I have never before seen someone go from complete arrogance to wobbly knees and yacking their throat up so quickly.

I won.

yay!

what was he thinking
(Dan dan dan They tik urh jerbs!!!, Mon 22 Sep 2008, 12:03, 1 reply)

Contains food and sabotage - but - in a different way
I was with a girl for eight years. She meant the world to me and she made me the happiest man in the universe - well - that was until the day I found out she had been shagging her boss behind my back. I was devasted. Completely cut in half. Broken.

Fast forward two months, she goes off on holiday and I am in our house clearing the last of my stuff out. I was clearing under the bed I pulled out our box of erm "Toys" to get to box of junk.

I could physically hear my brain wurr into action.

Off I ran to the supermarket and purchased a packet of Scotch Bonnet chillies. These fuckers looked hot, very hot.

Once back home I covered each one in cling film and let them sweat in the sun for a few hours. I then cut them in half and made sure her rampant rabbit was given a liberal coating of pure fire. I let that coating dry and repeated, and repaeted and repeated. Each time the chillie fluid dried to an invisible layer of heat ray death.

One week later I had a phone call from the Ex. She was screaming and crying and swearing. It was safe to say she wasnt in a great mood.

"Whatevers the matter" I said (through laughter)
"AAAHHH MOOOTHHERR FUCKER IT BURNS" she poetically replied
"Oh dear...What burns"
"You mother fucker.....ahhhhhhhhh"
"sounds painful - I have to go now - good day" I laughed so hard I almost fainted

According to a friend - it took several baths and a yogurt douche to stop the flames - but - the bit that made the story for me was that she wasnt using it in a "self love" way. Her boss had used it on her. When she started screaming he thought she was cumming so pushed it in further and further.
( KISS.ME.WHERE.I.POO Signed the sex offenders register on, Mon 22 Sep 2008, 11:44, 22 replies)

at uni
As an impoversished student, I just couldn't afford to be buying a new carton of milk every day. So I pissed in my own milk and - hey presto - I was drinking only about half as much thereafter! Job done.
(frankspencer, Mon 22 Sep 2008, 11:12, Reply)

self sabotage
another tale from childhood.

i was holding a tea party for natalie, tara, mary and guy (you wouldn't have been able to see them, only i could see them) but my parents were in the kitchen so all the ingredients for my spread came from the next obvious alternative, the bathroom.

i made a huge pile of toilet paper sandwiches filled with generous servings of toothpaste. i added colour and texture with a gravy made from two different types of bubble bath. dad's shaving foam was an excellent alternative to whipped cream. all that was missing was a garnish.

after some more foraging for ingredients in the bathroom, tucked in the back of the cupboard, i found the perfect thing. i didn't know what they were, i'd never seen them before. they were small and perfectly round, in all the colours of the rainbow. i looked on the side of the box. b - a - t - h p - e - a - r - l - s. bath pearls? wow, they really did look like pearls. these were perfect.

back in my room, i buried my hand in the cold squishiness of them all in the box. then i dressed each book-for-plate with a few, holding each one up to the light. they were fascinating. you could squeeze them like grapes. they looked like the most delicious sweets in the world, the kind of sweets you'd probably only get in disney world.

of course, my head knew they weren't edible. they were called bath pearls, and i'd already worked out that anything you used in the sink was edible, but anything used in the bath was not. but my mouth and eyes could not believe that anything that looked that delicious would not taste of ice cream or cakes or golden syrup.

of course they tasted like fairy liquid and made me throw up. you should have seen the look on my parents faces when they found me, sitting in the middle of what looked like an industrial accident. i nearly laughed, but i was foaming too much at the mouth.

natalie and the rest of the gang just left me to it. wankers. seriously, you can't trust anyone :(
(threadkiller, Mon 22 Sep 2008, 11:08, Reply)

A nice one...
A long time ago in a county not so far away a young student, who would later be my girlfriend, turned up for work as a packer at a chocolate factory.

Sadly not Willy Wonkers Chocolate factory, but a certain dark green liveried company who pack exactly the same chocolates in Tesco Value boxes as there own.

The hero of this story is a chocolate lover of epic proportions, but this doesn't involve her bingeing on chocolate, that would be stealing.

In an inspired moment of Robin Hood-esque wealth redistribution she decided that it would be nice to put an extra chocolate in every box!

Imagine opening a box of tongue smotheringly lovely bites of sweet chocolate only to realise that there are two of your favourite! A thousand extra little smiles around the country, a simple gesture of giving in a selfish world.

Unfortunately every box is weighed and if it is too light, missing chocolates, or too heavy, extra chocolates, the box is rejected.

My girlfriends packing line missed their targets that day by some margin.

No one could quite understand what had gone so wrong.




She didn't go back.
( Naked Ape call me Caitlyn, Mon 22 Sep 2008, 11:03, Reply)

kidneys of death
i am vegetarian purely and simply because i've never liked the texture or taste of meat. i have no principles - i'm a lawyer ffs - if i liked it, i'd eat it. but i actually hate it.

the worst of the worst has got to be kidneys. or maybe liver. i could retch just thinking about the taste, and it must be 18 years since i had any in my mouth. liver and kidneys filter shit out of an animal . that shit has coursed through those organs for the length of the animal's short-assed life. why the hell would you want to eat that? why would you want to eat an ORGAN? ugh.

so imagine my horror one day when i leaned over to steal a contraband, delicious, hot, tasty mushroom from my brother's slice of steak and mushroom pie, which he had put on the table but then naively turned his back for a second...

... only to find my mouth full of mushy, squishy kidney death and my brothers pissing themselves at me. bastards, they'd told me it was steak and mushroom pie on purpose.

mind you, they still compete every time we're all together to see who can get me to eat meat without noticing it. yeah, because i'm not going to notice a slab of bacon swimming in my diet coke, am i?

they are 37 and 29...
( rachelswipe with a fork, Mon 22 Sep 2008, 10:44, 11 replies)

It was disgusting
I once had to spit in my own Big Mac. Disgraceful.
( Colonel Dracula Two manky hookers and a racist dwarf, Mon 22 Sep 2008, 10:24, 3 replies)

im waiting
for someone to claim responsibilty for the china milk saga.

or has this bindun?
(Dan dan dan They tik urh jerbs!!!, Mon 22 Sep 2008, 10:19, Reply)

Formula
I was [slight]ed by [acquaintance]. I added [non-edible substance] to [acquaintance possesive pronoun] [edible substance] and [acquaintance possesive pronoun] never realised. I was [emotion].

Sorry. Feeling pedantic today and realised the entire QOTW is one big answer. Plus slightly annoyed at the fact that the only real genuine response to this QOTW is that i once lined the bottom of a mug of tea for a friend of mine with rabbit shit. He was really pissed off and I ultimately felt bad. He put food dye in mine the day before and thought I went a bit too far. I was inclined to agree and to be honest, I still feel a little bad, even though it was 20 years ago and we dont really see each other anymore. Although, I hope its nothing to do with rabbit poo. Incidentally, Skol and Becks beer both smell of rabbit poo.
( I have run out of coke is a little sweaty, Mon 22 Sep 2008, 10:17, 2 replies)

my pop is a bastard
when I was young, about 6 or 7 I'm not sure why, but I really loved avocados. Well on one night out for a family dinner we went out for some sushi. A little while after we got our food my dad offered me a slice of avocado. Being 6, I didn't even stop and think of why a sushi restaurant would be serving avocado. I grabbed it of the plate and gobbled it down without any hesitation, then nearly choked to death... The bastard had used his chopsticks to mold a slice of "avocado" out of wasabi.
(dW3, Mon 22 Sep 2008, 10:10, Reply)

I remember this one time
A few years back, I was on a skiing holiday with a friend. It was kinda a strange reason why we ended up there, but that story is for another QOTW.

Anyway, we had only been in the resort for a few days, when i found out he was going out with a bird i had been after for a while. He blatently knew i was after her. So, just before he was about to go on a date with her, i slipped some extra strength laxitive into a cup of tea which i made him drink.

Apparantly when he arrived at the girls house, the laxitives had began to take effect. And so he was forced to use the toilet.

Once he finished, he realised he was using the broken toilet - it wouldnt flush.

What did i do? i went for a ride on my bike and p!ssed my-self laughing!


Cheers

Lloyd Christmas
(Dan dan dan They tik urh jerbs!!!, Mon 22 Sep 2008, 10:10, 1 reply)

Kaol and the tale of the Mouse Omelette
First of all, I'm a lovely person. I'm afraid, however, that we all do things from time to time that makes us seem like a cunt.
This is one of mine...

A couple of years ago, I was living with a fellow student called "Mike".
Now, Mike was a scummy bastard, there's no other way to describe it.

He took two showers that I'm aware of the whole year I was living with him.
He never seemed to wash his clothes.
He managed to get our house invaded by ants, which came through the door, up the stairs, past my room and into his.
His bedroom smelt foul. Fouler than a Musk Ox's ring-piece.

All of those things, however, I could deal with.

What I couldn't deal with was him stealing my food.
I was scraping money the whole time I was at uni, to the point that some weeks I'd be eating cous-cous and tinned tomatoes and not much else.
His parents were paying for everything for him, including a hundred pounds a week "going out" money...
So why the fuck did he have to keep stealing my food?

His worst habit was stealing left-overs. If I made a chilli, I'd make fucking loads of it, freeze it and then leave a portion to defrost in the fridge for the next day.
About half of the time my meal would "mysteriously vanish".
It was just the two of us in the house, and he'd deny it.

So one day I decided to get my own back.

I made two wonderful cheese, mushroom and bacon omelettes, ate one, and put the other into the fridge.

The next day it was gone.

What he'll never know is the glowing sense of satisfaction that he'd eaten an omelette made of dead baby mice.

You see, I had a snake. This snake ate baby mice, so I had a box in the freezer full of them.
Mouselings don't have any fur, so they're pink and look a lot like foetuses.

I took a large handful, removed and discarded the heads, chopped up the bodies into cubes and shallow-fried them.

So that's the story of how my dirty, thieving housemate ate dead mice.
( Cawl, Mon 22 Sep 2008, 9:38, 14 replies)

Pissing babooons
Whilst travelling, we pitched up to a campsite. within half an hour, our camp was attacked by baboons. Now, baboons are evil creatures, dont let anyone tell you otherwise. They got into our trailer full of food, and were ripping apart cans with their teeth. evil bastards.

We forgot about this, and decided to go on to our next destination. A few days later, we were cooking over an open fire. This was a large meal for everyone (20 plus), and everyoe was somewhat starving. chicken was chopped, veg was chucked in, and there was a good deal of spices for taste.

We got about an hour into the cooking time before we realized the chicken tasted of methylated spirits. Y'see, the blue-bottomed buggers had managed to open a bottle of the stuff, which we used for cooking when we couldnt get a fire, and poured it liberally over all our food. So we had to throw it all away.

I lost a stone that holiday. Mostly because we would take two bites of food, and realized it still tasted of meths. Tasty blinding meths. If you see a baboon, punch it in the face for me.
(Urban Hermit Exit, pursued by a bear on, Mon 22 Sep 2008, 9:38, 2 replies)

At a party.
back in the day my mates and I were all at a party. Now there was this annoying twunt there who preceded to tell everybody at the party, in a very loud voice, that the only drink that he thought worthy of drinking was Grolsch. Now even in those days we tended to drink real ales or spirits.

So about halfway though the night we decided that revenge was on the cards as this cock would not leave us alone!

A trip to the kitchen and we collected his empty bottles from the bin and told everybody that we were going on a beer run, asking if anybody wanted anything. Twunk pipes up telling us to get him some more, and he didn't even give us any cash!

Out we troup, with his empties, about four of the group went to the off licence, and the rest of us went about the job of re-filling his empty bottles.

A while later we walked back into the party with more beer, and eight bottles of piss, which we gave to him.

He drank the lot, never once commenting on the fact that it must have tasted funny.

A few days later we found out that he never even guessed what we had done, even when he spent the next three day puking his guts up!

Then again he was a total Twunt.
(Herr Doktor Lemminge Is bored, so cheer me up!, Mon 22 Sep 2008, 9:20, 3 replies)

no strictly sabotage... but pretty impressive fail nonetheless.
i was dating a rather pretty but ultimately rather unsuitable bellydancer girl.
having woo'd her with my culinary prowess, she decided to reciprocate and cook me dinner (i'm no gary rhodes but i do DAMN good italian and lethal chilli)
i turned up as she was cooking.

you know when you're watching something absolutely mesmerised by the wrongness of it, unable to look away? now combine that sensation with the sure and certain knowledge that failure to keep your mouth shut and smile will SURELY result in being denied the chance to 'baste her turkey' and you're close to what motivated me to not only WATCH, but consume the product of this unholy union:

boil water
add pasta
dice onion
(this is where it gets weird)
ADD onion TO water/pasta and BOIL until soggy
slop mess into colander
add a half pot of co-op tangy salsa dip (chilled)
grate a clove of raw garlic into mix.
add parmesan
serve.


jesus it tasted like boile3d frenchman's socks.
interesting fact- boiling onions seems to amplify their notorious gaseous properties to a near untenable level.
this does not help when trying to get your end away, neither does raw garlic breath or a stomach full of the revolting slop.
length? she lasted 3 months.
(UppityDamnPrimate LET'S OPEN THIS F*CKING PIT UP, Mon 22 Sep 2008, 8:56, 2 replies)

'special' cookies
we have a housemate, who, while a very nice chap, is known for being a bit of a feedbag, and wilfully rifling through cupboards to munch the foodstuffs of his peers, without so much as a by-your-leave

well it so happens that one or two of us are both able-bodied in the kitchen dept, and, rampant stoners. (him NOT included)
i think we can all see where this is going.

trip to sainsbury's bakery gives us a transparent box labelled 'cookies'
short trip to a house of ill repute and some cooking time, yields us a batch of rather potent cookies. knowing his greed would win out, we proffered the cookies for 'help yourself' purposes.

sure enough, he wolfed down a couple on the sly. he then sat next to me complaining i was smoking so much herb it was making HIM feel high. oh how we laughed.
he then claimed to be 'suddenly really hungry for some reason (lol)

at this point the plan began to go into a horrible tailspin,. as he went to the kitchen and was caught in the middle of a sneaky cupboard raid with someone elses bread, cheese, butter, and crisps.
bugger.
(UppityDamnPrimate LET'S OPEN THIS F*CKING PIT UP, Mon 22 Sep 2008, 8:46, 3 replies)

When a spade faced woman and a compulsive liar conspire (AKA How I learned to stop worrying and love Cillit Bang)
Simple story going back to when I was seventeen or so at a casual get together between myself and a handful of friends. Present were S, his shovel-faced partner and professional leech L, P - a friend/compulsive liar of the highest magnitude who lived for attention, J and a guy named G with a HUGE ginger fro. (He was awesome.)

After spending a fun few hours getting drunk and playing trolley wars in Tesco carpark at 1:00am, a sport which involved many injuries for the people colliding the trolleys but more for those inside them, we all sat down to unwind for a while in S's kitchen. P however had other ideas and decided to ask that he talk to L in private, (a girl he barely knew) and play vulnerable in the chance he could seduce her. We all knew L had cheated on S and screwed him around before, (many times) I guess he was hoping for some of that.

We all watched this from a distance, they sat out in the kerb for a couple of hours with P trying his hardest to get her affections not knowing we were watching. After a while he came back in on his own and asked that someone make him a drink and sulked off to the TV, (I guess she said 'No chance you needy seven stone wreck') we decided to make him a glass of apple squash, all we had that wasn't alcoholic, with a twist.

I took the glass in to the bathroom and topped it up with the last few drops of a particularly satisfying slash by stirring nicely with my god-given utensil before serving it, and us all trying not to give it away as he drank it.

For years since then he's still the only person who hasn't found out, and doesn't get or even think to question why the subject of apple juice entertains everyone so much and comes up so frequently, though nobody has seen him that much since he was turned down by the army for being a heavy-smoking meat stick.
(Guineapiggy Fuzzeh!, Mon 22 Sep 2008, 1:14, Reply)

Well, I don't know if anyone's seen the footage....
But I suffer from short term memory loss...terrible affliction. Anyhooo, I also struggled being a man for the first 20 years of life, and decided to have a lifestyle (read: sex) change. One of my lady-friends didnt take kindly to this and bullied me over it, fairly horrifically.

My plan to take revenge against her for the traumatic abuse took form.

I invited her over for dinner, under the pretence that there'd be many mutual acquaintences. In reality there was only one. Me.

Now it just so happens that the bully I know is rather blind, and has no sense of smell, which made my plan all the easier to concoct. Once we'd eaten our meals, I asked my brother to film what would be the revenge of the century...I asked the bully if she'd like some icecream.

She said yes.


So i took her cone, and like some horrific Mr Shitty-Wippy, curled a turd off into it. She was none the wiser as i handed it to her, and she started nuzzling it and licking it. "AHA!" I thought to myself...the bitch fell for it.

As it turns out... I forgot all about pinching the log off 30 seconds after having done it, and started to join in, thinking 'wow, that chocolate icecream looks mighty fine!'

The video speaks for itself.

And the nudity and blatant lesbian undertones are all coincidental.
(the_biochem_ninja can resist everything except temptation, Mon 22 Sep 2008, 0:18, 1 reply)

Parents
My parents were going out one evening when I was younger, leaving me alone at home. I was shouted that my dinner (pasta with tomato & meat sauce) was on the table. I got downstairs, and the dog was stood on a chair, with his face in my dinner. I called Dad, who pulled him off the chair... and then made me eat the massacred remains of the meal.

I still can't eat bolognese :(
(Merrep, Sun 21 Sep 2008, 23:30, 2 replies)

My uni flatmates
put tabasco in my tea.

Because I've never had tabasco before, they told me the teabag must have split, and that would be why it tasted funny. Well, it seemed plausible.

The third or fourth time they did it, I said "christ, PG Tips are fucking unreliable" and they laughed for nearly twenty minutes and then came clean.
( Reid got it going on like Donkey Kong, Sun 21 Sep 2008, 23:02, Reply)

I once lived with a guy
who took an intense dislike to another flatmate and would regularly stick the top of the poor guy's vinegar bottle inside his foreskin. (Aallegdly... I never witnessed the act)

I can't imagine how it must have burnt... His dislike must have been pretty intense to go through with it...
(TarranT, Sun 21 Sep 2008, 22:58, 1 reply)

Once i was making a curry (as i like to cook)
and i discovered i was out of natural yoghurt... quick dash to the local shop (whilst everything bubbled) revealed they where infact out of natural yoghurt... only thing left on the shelf was PEACH YOGHURT....
Peach and chicken is not a good combination at the best of times, let alone in a curry!
I have never felt so ill without actually being sick!
( SkUG >_O i got a couple of stitches in my eyeball... ow, Sun 21 Sep 2008, 22:35, 4 replies)

Not me but..............
*Not strictly sabotage but food related*

My Step-mum had made breakfast in bed for my dad, consisting of one bacon-butty (that is bacon-sandwich to you posh people). just as she was about to take it up to him the phone rang so she places it upon the stairs in the house of which they lived, doing so she left the hallway door open and one of their cats ,whom we shall call Fluff for that was its name, got to the bacon.

Instead of throwing it away and starting from scratch she wrestles Fluff for the bacon & places it back in the bread and allows my dear old Dad to enjoy a second hand sarnie. Then she tells him this story after he finishes it.
(the welcan monkey Forgot what I came in for, Sun 21 Sep 2008, 22:21, Reply)

This one time
My dad was paying me to go to Uni and I found my flatmates chocolate ice cream in the freezer. I had some but it tasted like shit so I puked it up and injected the puke into his Pot noodle containers. He never found out to this day!
( BadBadman saw an incorrect comma placement on, Sun 21 Sep 2008, 22:00, 2 replies)