Mmmm..salty...
An ex of mine was rather proud of this one:

Whilst working his sizeable ass off in a well known, and apparently high class restaurant in Denver, long, hot shifts lasting 13 hours plus were not unusual. On one such arduous day, said ex was as usual the last one out, had just shut down the sizeable kitchen, and sat hisself down at the bar for the first of many strong drinks. All done..knackered, and ready to get wasted.

His manager interupts his quiet contemplation, insisting he must return to the kitchen, and cook more food. f*** that says ex..but the manager insists. Why? Because members of a well known and very popular boy band had entered the establishment, and demanded nourishment.

Ex duly returns to huge kitchen, where he has to single handedly set up everything (I understand that this took some time) to prepare their order. What did these evil little purveyors of sheer crapness request? One of eveything on the ample menu. Bunch of twunts.

Fellas will understand the next part..imagine you've been slaving away in a very hot kitchen for 13 hours, running around and working hard. Imagine that your dimensions are also rather large (ok ok, you're a fat, sweaty f***er at the best of times, but after a day of work, you just aint fragrant). Now imagine what "weather conditions" such as humidity would be like in your nether regions. You can see where I'm going with this one..

Ex dutifully and lovingly prepared a feast unlike any other for satans little hellspawn, and with each piece of meat, indeed each element of every dish, gleefully wipes away the days bollock-dew...

After serving this cornucopia of gastronomic delights, he went to see how the lads found their meal. All of them rated it top notch tucker, and advised him it was delicious.

I am sure that he is not the only person who can say that the Back Street Boys ate his ball-sweat (and loved it), but maybe the only person who can claim such a feat in this context. Not that they're gay or anything...

Never piss off a fat chef, eh kids?
(Carmen Dyslexia, Fri 19 Sep 2008, 18:13, Reply)

Not food sabotage...
...but what the hell.

In 6th form we removed a pack of Lambert and Butler (cheap and nasty cigs) from our mate's bag while he was in a lesson, took one out and carefully removed half of the tobacco, replaced it with ground up dry sycamore leaves from outside, and then packed tobacco back into the end before putting it back in his bag.

He smoked it later on and didn't seem to notice, which says a lot for L&B.
(trashbat, Fri 19 Sep 2008, 18:10, Reply)

One more from my waiting days...
We had this regular customer, a right fat bastard.

He would, seriously, eat everything on the menu.

He'd gorge himself silly.

He was rude and obnoxious.

A dirty, obnoxious, foul looking slob.

And his manners were appalling.

He'd spray food everywhere.

He'd end up with it in his moustache, down his front, in his lap.

The table was a disaster zone. Food everywhere.

He was an animal.


So, I can say, feeling entirely guilt free that he got everything he deserved...

...when I gave him that wafer thin mint.
( scarpe We Stole Bikes, Fri 19 Sep 2008, 17:50, 7 replies)

Stupid Siblings
Although I was raised as an only child, I do happen to have step-siblings. They only appeared in the summers as they lived a few thousand miles away. My older step-sister was a bully. Mother always instructed me to ignore her as best I could and remember that she will be gone in a month.

This sister of mine decided one year to try her hand at baking. I think her reasoning was that it was something I was good at so naturally she had to beat me at it.

She was terrible (1 tablespoon of salt in the brownies instead of 1 teaspoon). Because she was so terrible, she began to take over all recipies I made, claiming them as her own. She would also eat all of her spoils of the little war.


Being fed up, I hatched a simple plan. Alright I admit: it was my Mother's plan, but she too grew up with a bully in the house. From that point on, I baked my sister's favorite white cake and added either green or blue food coloring.

Anyone with half a brain knows that food coloring doesn't change the taste, but it will change the way you think about the newly hued item.

Mother and I were the only ones in the house to eat cake for the rest of the summer. My sister still gaggs at the sight of her old favorite: the white cake.
( flirting with badgers What? It sounded good at the time., Fri 19 Sep 2008, 17:21, 2 replies)

I am a GOD
When I worked at Fuckwits Foods, some customer asked for sparkling wine so I gave them a mug of Ebola infected slug cum, siphoned off by Lucifer himself. They died a painfull death 3 days later. Wiping my knob on the rim of the glass made me feel like I'd just got revenge for every crime ever committed on this planet since the dawn of bacterial life.

Fuck, there should films made about me.
(Mr.Dog was in love again on, Fri 19 Sep 2008, 17:20, 1 reply)

Wee and Poo is Tea is so unoriginal...
I'd love to say this prank was mine, such the originality and simplicity of it.

Mike, for that was his name, was drinking his tea in the Tesco staff canteen. A lovely cuppa, he tilted it back, only to see in the end of the mug was...


A whole salmon eye, staring back at him.

Was he sick? Yes - violently! Huzzah!
(Roddimus_Prime Should be revising, Fri 19 Sep 2008, 17:19, Reply)

Twat boss
My old boss was such a twat.

To get back at him I poured coffee into his toilet and watched him piss into it!
(Spaff_Quaffer Wise fwom your gwave., Fri 19 Sep 2008, 17:18, 3 replies)

More Coffee Marlaky
Whilst attending evening classes, we had this particular tutor for computer science who was a bit of a know-it-all-no-matter-what-you've-done. He was a good tutor when he cut the bullshite so we tolerated his meanderings ...

Anyway, the class lasted 3hrs with a break in between. Usually a few of us would go to the student cafe to talk smack and generally piss around. Occasionally we'd be late back to class and the tutor would then have a go about our tardyness. Again, whatever.

Well this particular day, he was being particularly obnoxious and really pissing me off. Come the break time we get up to leave and he makes smart comments about being back in time oh and "would you mind getting me a coffee?".... "No problem" says I and as we leave an evil grin appears across my face.

Cut to the chase I get a coffee for this guy and then hock up a good couple into the coffee and make sure the nasal passages are clear. I then walked back to class and hand him the coffee with the perfect innocent expression on my face while my mates are trying to stifle laughs. Man, it was great watching him down that drink - I guess he liked it frothy!

On another food sabotage story - a friend lived in a shared flat along side a food thief who would half-inch anything going in the fridge.

Knowing this perpetrator was hard at work on his food, said friend was presented the perfect opportunity when the thief had a tagliatelle and put left-overs in the fridge.

That next morning, after shenanigans with his girlfriend he took his now used condom and emptied it over the tagliatelle and later in the day said he watched with smugness as the food thief ate the protein enhanced pasta dish.

Did he tell them? Yes, just before he moved out.

Length? A stringy sperm ridden spit measure.
(Feckalluse Give me shelter, shelter from the storm, Fri 19 Sep 2008, 17:17, Reply)

More library tales
Every Thursday we have a bunch of old folk and "specials" turn up for what are called "health walks". They meet in the library, all wear spcaker day-glo backpacks and go off walking for an hour and come back. For reasons never clearly explained to me we are expected to put on hot water, tea and biscuits for them. I could tolerate this, if they were particularly nice people.

Unfortunately the walk leader is an old, sinewy lady who is a spiteful, stuck up, rude shitsniffing bastardface. She quite often treats the staff like idiotic waiters, demanding this, that and the other, apparently forgetting that our job is...y'know, books and stuff.

Because of this, the following things have been added to/dipped into the jugs of water we give them.

- Spit (obviously)
- Condoms (dipped)
- Eraser pens (dipped)
- A teeny bit of vodka
- A fingernail
- A fart
- A little washing up liquid.

The thing is, since most of them are incoherent and drooling anyway, there's no way of telling if these additions are having any effect. Oh well.

Hellward bound...I wish I was...hellward bound
(GONEism, Fri 19 Sep 2008, 17:16, 4 replies)

I used to make scones
Add a couple of drops of black food colouring and you get them all to yourself.
(teebie jeebie, Fri 19 Sep 2008, 17:09, Reply)

!!!!!
Mad Laura at work said to me the other day:

"My flatmate was driving me mad last night, asking to borrow my computer".

"Oh dear!" I said. "What did you do, say no?".

"No, I put washing powder in her fucking bedtime milk".

gosh.
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Fri 19 Sep 2008, 17:08, Reply)

I was once gifted with a Swedish automobile that had been owned by a chap called Clement, the grandson of an esteemed psychologist.
Unfortunatley there was a mix up with the delivery address, and it was instead sent to a mausoleum in Agra, India.

Yes, I ended up with my Freud Saab at Taj.

Ahahahahahaha oh god please kill me.
( Lightguy hail satan, Fri 19 Sep 2008, 17:05, 1 reply)

I
went for some Sushi with some fella, hair fell out, spies, blah de blah de blah.

I'm sorry, it sucks. But I figured someone would have done this by now, and it's half an hour before home time and I can't be arsed.
(GONEism, Fri 19 Sep 2008, 16:59, Reply)

FLAMIN' HOT!!!
We were poor growing up and my old man was very strict.

I did cookery at school and would sometimes have to ask him for money to buy the ingredients. Often he would decline saying that we couldn’t afford it or he would refuse on the grounds that the school should supply the ingredients (cheery bastard I know!).

There was one occasion when I did manage to squeeze a few quid out of him to buy the ingredients that I needed to make a curry.

Cooking day comes along and I’m making a keema curry. I’ve added the recommended amount of curry powder but it’s not quite strong enough.
I’m not known for my restraint; so much so that my friends have nicknamed me Suzy XS.
So I add another spoon full of curry powder and taste it again. Still not bloody strong enough!! So I add another. This went on and on and I have no idea how many spoonfuls of curry powder but I guess it was in double figures by the end.

I took my lovingly cooked curry home and Dad says that me and my brothers will be having the curry for our tea (that’s dinner to any Southerners). This is back in the 90’s and I don’t think my brothers had ever had anything remotely spicy (we were an egg and chip/saus and chip kind of family back then).

My Dad would never eat anything that one of his spawn has touched (he thinks kids are dirty and even to this day will not eat anything any of my younger brothers make at school/for his birthdays etc).

So we’re sat at the table and my brothers tell my Dad of their distaste to my super hot curry and in his usual military style, he bellowed “I’ve fucking paid for that ya little shits!! Your sister has made it so you’ll god damned fucking eat it!!”

My Dad was not one to be disobeyed so my brothers and I sat slowly eating our curries. Some of the younger ones had tears rolling down their faces and snot hanging from their little noses from the heat.

After about half and hour of this and more protests from my little brothers, my Dad gave in and tasted the edge of a spoonful.

I got a clip round the ear and the rest went promply in the bin.

I still do this with spice to this day…even when I’m cooking for myself. I just can’t help it.
( DUMBLONDE is a rubber lover girl, Fri 19 Sep 2008, 16:53, 3 replies)

food sabotage
Some years ago I had the misfortune to be romantically involved with control freak bloke. He worked shifts and was in the habit of turning up at all hours and eating the contents of my fridge. I made a pie out of dog food mince...spiced it up a bit, made it look nice with pastry from the depths of my freezer. When I got home from work it was gone...
He was unwell for quite some time.
I dumped him too.
(Jessypuss Fiddling with stuff since 1957, Fri 19 Sep 2008, 16:49, Reply)

Tannin poisoning
An accidental sabotage, and a bit rubbish, but ...

Picture an office colleague who's managed to annoy everybody by, well, spending all of his time pulling faces at msn messenger/facebook/magic the gathering messageboards. And when he's not doing that he's brewing up. At least four cups an hour. But only for himself.

I'm making drinks (for everyone), and realise that I've somehow chucked two teabags in skive-boy's mug. I'm about to fish one out when I realise that, if he has a double dose, it may actually free up five precious minutes for shirker to do some work. So I drop another bag in. Then I mash those little caffeine-bombs for all they are worth. Then I leave them for another five minutes.

Mr Timewaster didn't bat an eyelid. I should have burst one of the bags. That would have learned him.
( The Vomiting Hitchhiker Mephistopheles is such a mouthful in Manhattan, Fri 19 Sep 2008, 16:45, Reply)

tea
had a flatmate in 2nd year who would always ask if anyone wanted a brew, and then tell us the kettle is hot and sit down.
one time we barricaded him in the kitchen until he made our teas.
he explored various escape routes before deciding to make us the tea.
with a big old spoon of salt.
cheers mick
(suboftheday, Fri 19 Sep 2008, 16:43, 1 reply)

Spunky mash
I have some friends whom have an active love life. One evening they decided to make "mash of love" whereby he liberally jizzed in the mash and they ate - sparingly.

next morning, another - mentaller - friend visited their house having been on a 36 hour colombian march. He was quite animated, and spied the pan of love-mash.

He leant in, and grabbed the pan. No amount of telling him it was last nights, not edible etc would convince him (without their sordid tale coming out) not to eat it. Its true the eater was quite homophobic to say the least, and certainly not open minded enough to eat another mans jizz.

So they had to watch him devour about a Lb (454g for the metric nazi's) of jizzy mash.

They told us a few weeks later, with both a look of shame and pride in equal measure.
( bazza van der trance , ooh baby baby, baby baby. Get up on this., Fri 19 Sep 2008, 16:41, 1 reply)

One more.
I was at Uni in Manchester at the time of that godawful reality show 'The Living Soap' was being made there.

Which is so obscure and barely remembered I can't even find the names of all the 'stars' on google.

Anyway, there was one, pretty but obnoxious girl in it whose name entirely escapes me.

I didn't sabotage her food. But I did steal a jar of coffee from her kitchen when I left the morning after I shagged her.

That didn't make the telly.
( scarpe We Stole Bikes, Fri 19 Sep 2008, 16:40, Reply)

Somewhat backfired....
At a summer 'fete' type thing some years back a group of us had slowly become absolutley shitfaced throughout the course of the day.

There were a few dial-a-dunnies scattered about but the queues were horrific.
I was desperate, so I basically placed my recently finished pint down on the floor and filled up the glass with my piss.

It looked exactly like the lager I had just drunk, and so, as there was a hell of a lot of mine-sweeping going on in the pub next to the field (I had lost about 3 pints at that point - this was a scummy town), I decided to place the glass of piss on the bar in the hope that one of the theiving bastards would end up gulping down illicit, stolen piss instead of the lager they had thought they had stolen.

Anyway, it had been on the bar for about 2 mins, and I got a pang of guilt and decided to go and get it and throw it where it belonged instead.

As I walked through the narrow enterance to the pub, a couple of kids came screaming through, being chased by the owner of a pint that they had just attempted to nick, knocked me sideways, and yep, my full pint of warm piss ended up all over me.

Tossers.
(dchurch bah, Fri 19 Sep 2008, 16:38, Reply)

pink peril
i was a child and my parents had invited other grown ups round for dinner. it was really boring. all they did was drink and talk and the food looked weird. it took them hours to eat and i wasn't allowed to watch telly. i couldn't wait for dessert any longer, so i asked mum if i could have some of the strawberry mousse. she was busy talking and nodded to me absently, waving her hand, so i helped myself. there's was a big, fat grape on top so i helped myself to that too. dessert was the best thing to have happened that night so i got the biggest spoon i could find and piled it high with strawberry mouse. i balanced the grape carefully on the top and crammed it all into my mouth.

being quite young, i have no idea what language i could have had at the time to describe the sheer horror of what filled my mouth. it was not sweet, creamy fruitiness. it was as though everything that had once been alive in the oceans had shat themselves simultaneously, then died, sank to the bottom, rotted for a few months, then got scraped up, pureed with mayonnaise and finally served at our table with a grape on top. the grape! maybe the fresh, watery slightly sharp taste of the grape would neutralise the foulness rotting in my mouth. i bit down. dear god no it didn't. it didn't burst open like a grape. it squidged, like i imagined a slug would. and the liquid that oozed out was like some kind of toxic slick. the flesh ground itself between my teeth and smeared all over my tongue. i ran screaming from the room in a spray of pink, up the stairs and into the bathroom and threw up into the toilet. i was still convulsing in bed that night.

some years later i found out it was taramasalata and an olive, which is the exact opposite of strawberry mousse and a grape. she could have bloody told me.
(threadkiller, Fri 19 Sep 2008, 16:37, 4 replies)

Oh, I remembered another one.
Same hotel, different beardy low order twatnip. Again, not sabotage per se, cos I think it's a mean thing to do to someone.

Garry Bushell. Sat at the bar, with his agent, talking about a book he was to write. Loudly and obnoxiously.

Ignoring my surprise that the racist bigot actually could write, I prepared his drinks. Vodka and Orange for him, and scotch for the agent, if I remember correctly.

At the time, I was giving up smoking, but that day I had forgotten to bring my nicotine gum with me, apart from the piece I was chewing on the way to work. Not being allowed to chew behind the bar, but loathe to throw the gum away and be left irritable all shift, I rather disgustlingly with hindsight, had left the chewed gum on a beer mat concealed behind the bar so I could have a sneaky chew when no one was around.

On a beer mat, next to the ice bucket.

So I poured the drinks, put the ice in them and realised the gum was nowhere to be seen. And then I spotted it, stuck inside one of those hollowed out ice cubes bobbing in bushells booze.

Anyone else, ANYONE, and I swear, I would have disposed of the drink there and then. Possibly by drinking it myself, admittedly, but it would not have gone to a customer.

But then I looked at his loathesome blank eyed goon face. And gave him his drink, gum and all. Fully expecting to get yelled at and then fired.

So engrossed in the sound of his own voice repeating loudly at every opportunity 'when MY BOOK comes out' and 'while I was writing MY BOOK' that the TV tosspot didn't even notice.

Although when he started eating ice cubes I was very quick to go and get his glass from him I admit.
( scarpe We Stole Bikes, Fri 19 Sep 2008, 16:25, 1 reply)

liquorice Lol's
Once worked with a French guy who had a craving for liquorice, not the gay All Sorts but proper strong black stuff.

One day we had a bag in our studio, open for us all to snack on when wanted. It was cut up into small flat squares. Said Frenchie whenever he came into our room (he was an account manager and was always dashing from studio to studio checking on progress) he would aways grab a handful and run out again munching.

About that time I had to move a computer that had been in the same place for about four years. As I unstuck it from the desk it left the four hard black plastic feet remaining there.

The rest is obvious really. Cue loud screams and expensive dental work.

And that's how I learnt to swear in French!
(onemunki Down there for dancing, Fri 19 Sep 2008, 16:22, 1 reply)

sausage tiem!
as children, my brother and i(not to mention our 2 sisters) had a fully justified dislike of our father.
one evening, mum had to pop out for an hour but, before she left, she told us not to touch the sausages in the fridge, they were for dad's tea.
as soon as she was out of the door, my brother ran to the fridge and grabbed one of said sausages.
what followed was some form of perverse juvenile sex show, with my brother hanging the sausage out of his fly, sticking it down his boxers, rubbing it all over his bits, pretending to wank it and generally making me almost laugh my tits off.
after about 10 minutes of this, we suddenly heard dad talking to the next-door neighbour. quick as a flash, my brother tidied up the sausage as best he could, then slipped it back into the fridge.
watching my father eat that sausage was more than either of us could bear. after the first bite, we both had to make our excuses and run before our laughter gave the game away.

he still doesn't know.
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Fri 19 Sep 2008, 16:21, Reply)

Detention
At school we had this vile fat bitch of a teacher who would regularly give me and a mate detention for no fucking reason other than her life was shit and she needed some friends.

after skipping 2 one hour detentions in a row, my friend and I were in deep shit (parent etc) and were summoned to spend a 3-fucking-hour detention with 'egg-breed'...

after a while in the detention just talking shit with egg-breed, another little scrote doing some time starts acting up... eggy, being a fat, lazy cnunt takes the scrote down to see the head.

time for sabotage.....

with me on the lookout my mate starts rifling through her desk drawers, revealing... surprise, surprise... loads of fucking food... !

he pulls out a sarnie and cuppa-soup and proceeds to open, and in a single bite, munch half this sandwich... then opens a cuppa-soup and pours some into his mouth...

a mouthful of this vile cement was then heartily back-washed into her (pointless) diet coke on the desk...

the remaining sandwich was put back into the package and the cuppa-soup, along with the rest of the box was thrown out of the window.

it was very hard to keep a straight face when she got back, and even harder when she had a sip of coke.
(Mugabe_Scrotash for everyone!, Fri 19 Sep 2008, 16:18, Reply)

Rewind back 28 years to the playground in the early 80's
Go on.. Smell the Cheese

Quickly followed by a crying child running to the nurse with a nosebleed.
(TheRiddler Hmmmmm... I concur., Fri 19 Sep 2008, 16:06, Reply)

Jam thief at work?
Red hot chilli paste and strawberry jam (with seeds) look no different when mixed together.

That was one hot slice of toast for somebody.
( Signify, Fri 19 Sep 2008, 16:05, Reply)

While still in school
I posted myself next to the coffee machine that also made tea, hot chocolate and soup.

During about half an hour, I told everyone who wanted something from the machine that the caretaker told me to inform them that he didn't fill it properly. He was supposedly now in the back making a sign to put up on the machine.
Thus, if you wanted a tea, you'd have to choose the soup. And if you wanted coffee, you'd have to press for hot chocolate, et cetera.

Sure enough, about three quarters of the people walked away with the wrong hot beverage.

I thought I was really cunning at the time.
( mediocre ha ha ha, you're reading this, Fri 19 Sep 2008, 16:02, Reply)

Probably going to hell...
..a few years ago I lived with a man (flat mate not shag piece). He had issues regarding hygiene and in general decent flat mate behaviour.

One morning I woke up to discover the lovely flat mate had gone for a Nr 2 during the night and in his drunk/retarded state didn't notice that the contents of his bowels went everywhere but the toilet. I freaked out just a little bit at him once he was awake and told him to clean his crap up. I’m not too good with confrontation especially when discussing someone’s lack of toilet training.

That evening though the anger hadn't left me. So there I am in the kitchen cooking a meal for us both. Thoughts going round and round in my head on how to seek revenge when I notice the cat making a fuss over the cat litter. I look at the meal I am about to serve my flat mate, I think about the cat litter.

I decide to be a little sick that evening. I drop the nicely marinated chicken pieces (his portion not mine) into the filthy cat litter - little bit of cat pee and poo won't hurt, surely. Poke it about a bit - let it get nicely covered.

Eventually retrieve it from the nasty box. Put a bit of tomato sauce over the top to disguise anything untoward. (I should probably mention this cat litter is more like saw dust and not at all chunky or like stone).

Eh voila, dinner is served. What upset me most was that he asked for seconds.

...definitely going to hell actually.
(holepuncher, Fri 19 Sep 2008, 16:02, 4 replies)

Trifle
Have to share a fridge with sticky fingers?

I recommend:

1. Cake. Bake it yourself (big round one is better as people think they can hide their thievery). Add as much salt as you can, especially to the icing. Chili works too if you can hide it.

2. Trifle. Same idea as above. Or flapjack.

Both have worked wonderfully well for me. I can only hope for the day that I need to do it again and make sure I have a camera installed.

Laxatives are not a great idea if you have to share a bathroom with these people.
(mmmm curry doesn't really understand this sig lark, Fri 19 Sep 2008, 16:02, 1 reply)