Apologies to my 12-year-old nephew
On google autocomplete whilst on his computer:

billy and mandy rude pics
bitch
boner
boobs
breists
cock
coming out poo
crap
dick
doing a poo
fanney
fanny
fuck
gay
gay
gay boy
gay men
gay peoplehaving sex
girls
grim & evile rude pics
haveing sex
haveing a poo
homer sex
homer sexy
lesbian
lesbians
lesbian and gay
maggie sexy
maggie simpson
maggie simpson bum
maggie simpson bum showing
maggie simpson naked
maggie simpson sexy
maggie simpson with bum out
marge sexy
men
naked men
naked women
nakid wimen
new poop
peeing
penus
pinus
pissing
pole dancer
pole dancer porn
pole sex
poo
poo coming out
poo poo
pooing
poop
poopoo
sex
sex sceen
sexing
sexy
sexy men
sexy thing
shag
shit
simpsons sex
simpsons lisa porn
simpsons naked
simpsons rude pics
simpsons totally naked
take your clothes off to have sex
undressed wimen
vigina
viginadick
weeing
wet tshirt
willy
wimen no clothes

Not sure which I'm more disturbed about: the odd search terms or the awful grammar.
( Naive Amoeba Bored Cig, Fri 10 Feb 2006, 14:09, Reply)

I don't want to have this conversation
Using my Dad's computer the other day I found a picture I wanted to save, so I went to save it in My Pictures. This pulled up the folder and with it an array of big breasted girls wearing pearl necklaces, receiving visitors, etc.

I didn't want to talk about it but I know his girlfriend is computer savvy so I suggested creating a sub-folder called 'Accounts' and putting the porn in there. An incredibly embarrassing little conversation that was. But after all, we all wank and perhaps I should be glad he doesn't secretly like boys / that he's still got lead in his pencil. Euurgh.

Anyway, it was awful but also not that harmful and I had forgotten about it by tea time. Then that night I was on the couch with MY girlfriend having just watched the Devil's Advocate and quite frankly about to have dirty sex. I get a phone call.

'You rotten bugger' opines my father, 'you've corrupted all these files there's just little numbers here now.'

I had to talk him through the display properties... Sitting there half undressed and swatting my girl away from my rapidly deflating cock while I slowly and repeatedly talk my Dad through the business of setting his wank bank up as a slideshow. At which point he cheerfully shouts 'Good one, boy, we're good to go!' presumably referring to himself and his old chap, and hangs up on me.

I felt like I was trapped in my own peculair hell, a nasty quagmire of freudian system administration. Yuck.

Sorry, that is a bit long. Not as long as my Dad's.
(Boss Killer, Fri 10 Feb 2006, 15:42, Reply)

my friend was fired from his job in a sex shop
when his boss found evidence that he'd been looking at bus timetables on his work computer.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sun 12 Feb 2006, 8:11, Reply)

Not at all Pr0n related!!!eleventyone!!andsuchlike
A little over ten months ago Mrs Throbbe give birth to our very beautiful daughter. The photographs we have of her on the laptop probably number in their thousands.

As I am a soft b**tard, I have the screensaver that randomly shows image files so I can sit there and go "Awwwww" at many images of Throbbe Jr.

You can already see the potential for disaster. As above, this is not porn related. It's worse than that.

In one of the photographs, the beautiful Throbbe Jr has her hair in a side parting, staring into the camera with her lovely wide blue eyes, in a way that would be considered intense, and possibly disturbing in an adult. For some strange reason she reminded me of Adolf Hitler. Especially after I 'shopped a badly drawn 'tache on. Naturally, this was very funny, although the more sensible than me Mrs Throbbe disagreed.

This picture flashed up on screen while my grandmother was admiring the cute screensaver montage.

The same grandmother who was born in germany. and lost several family members to the death camps. who fled her home at the age of 6 with only a suitcase carrying her whole life to avoid being killed/raped/etc by the advancing russian troops. who endured much abuse from ignorant neighbours having moved to England in the '50's. You get the picture. Fucksocks.

Nothing was said.

Frankly, Octegenarian Paraplegic Scat images* would have been better.



* not that I have any, although I'm willing to bet that such things exist.
(Throbbe, Fri 10 Feb 2006, 12:59, Reply)

Thanks to auto-complete...
...my Dad now knows that I like girls to wee on me.
(Mr Eraserhead Why aren't you a lemon?, Fri 10 Feb 2006, 11:22, Reply)

For God's Sake Nobody Ring Me!
The trouble started when two amazing things happened at the same time. The first was that I finally split up with a boyfriend who I'd become bored with, after weeks of chickening out of ending it because I'm too nice. The second was that to get over my guilty feelings I bought myself a swanky new phone. I made the mistake of keeping the same number sadly so it wasn't long after that the texts started from the ex saying he wanted me back, he'd learn to change, blah, blah, blah. Unless he could spontaneously grow a personality and an IQ better than that of a McDonalds career employee then I wasn't interested.

One night I was out getting drunk with a mate when my phone started getting messages. Many, many messages. The ex had decided to try a new tactic and pretty soon my inbox was full of MMS's entitled 'Sure I can't change your mind?' and each featuring a picture (from what turned out to be quite a large sequence) of him stripping off and then, well lets just call it posing so I don't have to disgust you with the details. Me and the mate laughed at them all and then I stupidly decided that maybe I should save them. For posterity you understand. Okay, maybe the occasional wank, shut up. I tried for an hour to send them, via email, to my computer. Something I could have done in seconds on the old phone but I just couldn't figure it out on this one in my drunken state. Naturally I hadn't bothered reading the manual, I am a man. 'Fuck it' I thought and just saved the pictures onto my phone. I'd figure it out when I was sober. My mate grabbed the phone and 'just to remind me in case I got too drunk' changed my wallpaper to what can only be described as 'a gigantic close up of a bell-end' (not one of my favourites to be honest, but still funny).

It was an outstanding plan that could only go horribly wrong by someone being so much of a drunken monger that they left their phone in the pub at chucky-out time. Bugger. So I woke up the next day, realised my mistake and sat there blushing furiously, wondering if the barstaff would know it was me. I didn't dare go and ask for it back and was mentally writing off the money it cost me. I suddenly realised that if anyone rang me, the barstaff might answer it and one of my mates would unwittingly grass me up. So I rang every single person I could think of telling them not to ring, although obviously not why, the bastards would ring straight away then. My final call was to one of my girly mates who I trusted enough to explain what I'd done. She laughed for a while and then asked if I wanted her to go and get it. She said she wouldn't be embarrassed. On the contrary she'd be quite proud and would think it was hilarious.

This was why, later that day, with me standing sheepishly in the doorway, hiding out of sight in case they recognised me, the woman I now love above all others wandered up to the bar and in an excruciatingly loud voice said "HEY. DID I LEAVE MY PHONE HERE? IT'S THE ONE WITH THE BACKDROP OF A BELL-END!".

"Is this it?" Asked the bewildered barman. "We found it last night, dunno what the backdrop is, we haven't opened it. It rang a couple of times though."

Bugger AND bastards, I thought.
( Gleeballs is mostly made out of chocolate and hate., Mon 13 Feb 2006, 11:23, Reply)

Lesbian Clit Biters
Being a freelance web designer, I use the internet at several convenient locations to do my work. One of those places is my mothers house, while she herself is at work elsewhere.

My mother came home one day and settled in to watch television, and noticed a glow coming from her office room, where on her screen was a couple pages of a website called Lesbain Clit Biters. She proceeded to browse around these pages to form her opinion of the content.

She then called my voicemail to relate her story and say that she thought the girls were really skinny, and couldn't get why I would be looking at something where they were so obviously "faking it".

My wife was the first to hear the voice-mail message.
(crumpled, Mon 13 Feb 2006, 5:16, Reply)

Dirty laundry in public.
I currently live in a student house, with five males. Obviously when not having fluked ourselves some sex, we often talk about it, dream about it and hatch cunning plans on how to obtain it.

Much to the annoyance of one of the boys, twenty two year old Joe, who amongst being a hippy, a paranoid stoner and an absolute miserable git, is still a virgin.

Coming up towards christmas 2005, Our Joe began to pester us housemates about when we were leaving, when we'd be returning etc. It left a hint of curiosity in our minds, but thinking of no logical reason as to why he would care, as we rarely socially interact with the whiney bugger, we ignored it and all made our plans to leave.

The day before i was due to get the train, i needed to check my tickets on line. The only housemate with an internet connection still remaining in the house, i was forced to ask Joe if i could quickly use his computer. He mumbled something, no doubt about his angst at his absolute failings with the fairer sex and left me to it. Leaving his e-mail account open.
Ever the crafty cad and with a nose for trouble i helped myself to a quick peek.

Where i found e-mails to a high class hooker in the local area. Arranging two 'sex therapy' sessions. To help him overcome his anxieties and erectile dysfunction problems. Dated for the next evening, when he would have the house to himself.

Oh how i laughed at his miserable life, and how this hooker, who specialised in servicing business men and sugar daddies would smirk at his tiny little hippy den (including bizarrely, having a pair of sandals nailed to the wall.) Oh how he'd rue paying 600 pounds (from a student budget no less!) to prematurely jizz all over her thighs and then somehow contort around her in the tiny single bed to apologize for the rest of the session.

Only, why would Joe use his shabby little pot den, when my master bedroom with its double bed and fine decor would be vacant.

Thats right. At this point i realised the point of his nagging. He was going to shag that rotten crotch in my bed, on my sheets. And i was too embarrassed to tell him i knew of his plans. OH NOES! I go home and cry into my christmas pudding, knowing that my duvet and duck feather pillows would probably have aids or the like when i returned

/he didn't shag her though. Later email snoopage confirms that he couldn't get it up. Both he and I apologise for length.
(I'm a schmuck, i did a schmucky thing. is unlurking thanks to unemployment, Fri 10 Feb 2006, 18:26, Reply)

I wasn't the one the computer ratted on, but I digress
I must have been about 14, and I was using my mum's work computer, and for some reason decided to check what bookmarks she had...mostly rather benign stuff until about the middle:

divorce.com
divorce.net
Ask Jeeves: advice on divorce

Yes, that's right, I found out my parents were going to divorce, even before my dad did.

For the next five minutes or so I was understandably shaken up about it, but then I realised I didn't really give a shit so just carried on my day normally.
(Flabbergaster laughs at danger (and breaks all the rules), Fri 10 Feb 2006, 12:19, Reply)

Just tried it on my wife's computer
Google autocomplete:

hitler
nazi marching
air raid
blitzkrieg
infantry german
nazi rally
wehrmacht infantry
wehrmacht rally








If she wasn't a history teacher I'd get quite worried
(ChaRleyTroniC is invincible with his chips and cheese, Fri 10 Feb 2006, 17:45, Reply)

This would have been difficult to explain
I was trying to find a link to a website that holds embarrassing pictures people have taken of their mates, you know the kind, girls giving head on dancefloors, people pissing themselves while asleep pissed etc. There was a picture on there that a guy had secretly taken of his older brother sucking his own cock, which was the one I was specifically looking for so I could email the link to some mates (honest guv). Couldn't find the site, so I left it. The missus wanted some help finding something on Google, so I went to do a search. Autocomplete popped up with "my brother sucking his own cock". My hands have NEVER moved so fast. Got away with it, I think. Well, either got away with it or she was too freaked out to mention it...
(mr pete, Fri 10 Feb 2006, 15:56, Reply)

Ebay gum
T'was a couple of years ago now that yours truly worked for a regional marketing organisation who, as one of their profitable sidelines, sold event tickets for gigs, theatres, sport events, fitbae games and the like.

After working there for a while and becoming familiar with the ins and outs of ticketing I learnt a colleague had been purchasing staff advance tickets for high profile events and ebaying them on the snide.

Coining the phrase monkey see, monkey do, I invested in a pair of front row Kylie tickets at 75 dinars a pair before they officially went on sale. During the long slow shift t'next day, I uploaded my ebay ad and waited.

Five days later I had made £225. I was hooked like a mo'fo' crackhead.

Over the following six months I and a few colleagues sold approximately 120 tickets. Our customers ranged from WWF fans who would pay anything to get ringside with The Cobbler of Death or Shawn 'Midget Masher' Jones, to Elton John fans (Particularly desperate. Wankers.)

I made a pretty packet which admittedly went on skunk, partying and yes...more tickets.

One day at work I had a problem with the new £200K software package we were all using so I took a screen shot and emailed it to my boss...uh fucking oh my toolbar had btinternet, yahoo, chat sites and ebay open on it. At this point I should explain that the organisations HR policies and overall management was akin to a Libyan army regime. My boss picked up on the toolbar thing - I protested complete innocence 'They are all pop ups' I cried. 'Dost thou trust me not?' I heard no more...

Maybe a few months down the line, the HR rep and one of our bosses comes over to the team and asks us all to have a ten minute break away from our desks. Sucked in, we think its great, our employers are finally loosening up. It was at this point I get a phone call from a colleague (part of the Al-Ebay network) in another office who tells me she has just been suspended for gross misconduct.

Shit. Fan. Hit. I took a sneaky look over at my pc and the two bosses were standing around it looking at the Ebay page on the screen and pointing.

Minutes later I was being escorted off the premises.

'We'll be in contact with a date for your disciplinary'

At the hearing they presented me with shedloads of internet history of my activities (i was meticulous about deleting history obviously some shithead in IT was cleverer) and printouts from the ticketing software. They had been watching me for a while.

Miss Conduct of the Gross variety apparently.
( prem1um is full of life, Fri 10 Feb 2006, 13:33, Reply)

Lesbo's
Not been my undoing, but once whilst ridding a mates pc of spyware i decided that installing AdAware would be a good start, so went to google and pressed "L" to search for the Lavasoft homepage which brought up the drop down box containing the search string:

"Lesbians licking each other out, no questions asked"

I don't know why i find it so funny, spose its the "no questions asked" disclaimer on the end.
(Nyphur, Fri 10 Feb 2006, 19:23, Reply)

Syrup
I have always been very vigilant when it comes to covering my tracks on the web. While I was still living with my parents I had a regular procedure that I would follow after every stint of one-handed web-surfing. However, it seemed that one day I became complacent and failed to mask entirely the nature of my online activities.

An hour or so after I had used the computer, my mother sat down and booted up, ready to hit Friends Reunited and locate a new shag for the weekend following my father's untimely death the day before. After a few seconds of typing, she realised that her fingers had become somewhat clammy. She then looked up at the screen, only to find that she was unable to view an ex-schoolfriend's profile due to a large arc of cold jism that had flung itself diagonally across the monitor screen earlier. She then realised that the entire room, though only small, was bedecked in glistening silver cock-syrup. My game was up! Mother was horrified at first, but she soon saw the funny side of it, and we still laugh about it to this day.

Even now, I'm no more careful where I'm pointing my widgy, and I make all kinds of typos when the screen has been obscured with my he-milk. But as I always say, if you van do it woth two hnads, you can doit wioth one!
(stusut79, Fri 10 Feb 2006, 17:25, Reply)

Old one but a goody.
Back in the days when you could send .exe's to everybody and the interweb was a big open fun fest there was this great (At the time) gag called Bearded. For those who don't remember, once run it would change your wallpaper to the now infamous lady with her legs apart showing her extrodinarly hairy bush and present the legend "You've been bearded". So of course everybody sent this to everybody else and it got old pretty quick. However, my friend in the US had no idea about this and ran the file. He saw the message and clicked it off but as he ran his Outlook maximised he hadn't realised what the payload had done.

He didn't realise that is until his female boss came to ask him a question and he thought it would be better if he showed her on the screen. You can imagine his face (As I often do) as he minimised his Outlook to be presented with this gigantic muff set as his wallpaper.

When he told me I laughed so hard I think a little bit of wee came out.

_{I might have made the bit about the wee up for effect}
( Smithlick is often seen at the bottom of threads, Fri 10 Feb 2006, 12:38, Reply)

Gay Porn Payment Discovered
I was on my way to abroad study abroad for 6 months, and I owed some money to a friend. I fired up the browser, and used the bank’s website to transfer the money to his account. Since I had the opportunity to include some text with the transfer, I of course had to add something funny: “Payment for gay porn” seemed appropriate.
However, I wanted to make sure that he saw the text, so I also checked the “Notify account holder of transfer by mail.”

What I didn’t realize was that I was the “account holder”, and that I was having my mail forwarded to my parents for the next six months.

3 months later, I come home for a visit, and gather my mail. I noticed the open letter from the bank, laughed out loud when I saw the “Payment for gayporn” note...

My mother seemed less amused and brushed it off with a “Oh, I didn’t even notice that…” something which is clear evidence that not only did she read it, but also worried for 3 months how I was making money abroad - and in Holland.
(Sorry for length - the boys like it...)
(crazy-c, Sun 12 Feb 2006, 20:03, Reply)

Bastard computers!
Slightly off-topic, but...
I was flying a really important space mission, ooh, about four years ago. We were doing quite well, then the computer only decided to shut down oxygen generation and generally fuck up the entire odyssey. My mates were all killed, but I managed to get into the programming room and shut the bugger down. Had to listen to him sing a gay song about daisies first though. Moral of the story, stick with Macs, the HAL 9000 is plain shit.

Mind you, I had the last laugh when I flew through a mystical time portal and mutated into a giant space foetus.

Love, Dave x
(oranguturn, Fri 10 Feb 2006, 18:12, Reply)

Long Long time ago I used to be sysadmin for a company in London
where we used a program called mailsweeper to scan incoming email for dubious words. If an email contained an offending word, then it would get forwarded to the netadmin (me). Including of course ALL of the directors mails.

Part of my job was to analyse the mails, and forward them on to the recipient with a note saying "Can you ask so and so not to swear or refer to black people as n***ers when they send you an email. Ta."

The more serious ones would be cc'd to a director and it was upto them if they took any action.

Imagine then, my dilemma when the system catches an email from a female ex employee, to the married managing director saying something along the lines of:
"Great meeting up with you last night, my hole is still sore from where you fucked it so good baby" etc.

So rather than forward it on with a "Careful now" message I invited the rest of the company to come and read it on my PC instead.

Incidentally the list of stop words used by mailsweeper then was just the funniest list of swear words and racist terms ever. "Porch Monkey" anyone?
( Roland E O'Dorant R Tape loading error, 0:1, Fri 10 Feb 2006, 13:26, Reply)

Barbie Goes on Holiday...
I used to work as an ITC Technician at the local high school before going to University…spent the day emailing my mates and looking at dirty schoolgirls, it was the best job ever…until one day, I was sat in a year 8 IT class…I got an email from the headmasterasking me to look up some crap file and send it to him…

Simultaneously, I also received an email titled "Barbie Goes On Holiday"…which I opened sneakily as it had been classed as NSFW (NOT SAFE FOR WORK)…basically, the email contained a series of pictures of a barbie doll, in a bikini, in various stages of insertion up a ladies gash…starting off feet first, then up to her knees, then the waist, then the boobs, then you could just see her blonde hair, and then nothing but a hand, cheekily waving at you from the depths of a fishy crevice…

I found this hilarious, and as such, decided to forward it to all my mates…and if people walked past, I quickly hit Alt+Tab and opened up my email to the headmaster…and carried on with that…I copied his email address so I could put it in my contacts…and thought nothing else of it…I finished his email and got back to the task in hand of forwarding filth to my mates…

Just as I was about to send it, I realised I'd forgotten my mate who had moved to leeds a few weeks earlier, so I went to my contacts, and cut and paste his email into the address bar, OR SO I THOUGHT!!! In reality, I'd clearly not pressed the cut button at all, and so I pasted the headmasters address into the CC box…and pressed send…then realised the grave error I'd made…

I got called into the Headmasters office later that day, to be confronted with colour prinouts of every single barbie picture laid out on the desk, in chronological order, and was asked to explain myself…which I tried to do…not very well…I ended up getting sacked on the spot for gross violation of school policy…

Can't look at a barbie the same way to this day...
(Big Andy, Thu 16 Feb 2006, 18:23, Reply)

Why did I ever do it?
I was daft enough to get both my Mum and my Dad a computer each. They're divorced, so it's rather inconvenient to make them share one.

One day while trying to find a file my Dad had lost (turns out it was on a CD, never actually on the hard disk) I came across some pictures of ladies in the all-together. Fair play to him I say. And would have left it at that.

Except about 10 seconds after my discovery he comes barreling up the stairs, incoherently blabbering something about not looking in a certain folder because "I've already checked there".

I took some perverse pleasure in saying "You're right, it's just full of porn."
(Woodgie is back, but for how long?, Wed 15 Feb 2006, 13:46, Reply)

at last
on my part, a question worth answering.

I was fifteen and looking for porn on the internet. I found an erotic story, a five page tract of lesbian-based filth. Clicking on 'print', the ageing Epson creaked into life and started reeling off the first page. Whereupon there occured a paper jam. In a panic I tried to stop the printing, but to no avail. The paper was all mash up. Frustrated and fearing detection, I turned the whole lot off, pulled the chewed up paper out of the printer and went off to bed empty handed.

The next day I went to school and all was normal. After school, my mother took my sister and I to the hospital, where our grandmother was convalescing after an operation. The mood around the bed was quite sombre, as we weren't sure whether the operation had been successful or not. After pleasantries were done, my mother started ratching in her bag.

"Something odd happened today. I was trying to print out a fax on, and the printer started producing this... this... stuff!"

I looked on aghast.

Obviously, the printer had stored the dirty information and had printed it out at the next opportunity. But my mother was under the impression that a client of hers was trying to provoke her by faxing her this stuff, and had phoned him to put him right. He was innocent, and my mother looked a fool. The situation was by now excruciating for me, and my red face and obvious panic made my guilt all too apparent. Whereupon the others, followed by half the ward, started laughing at me. Harrowing.

Being caught out is bad enough, and it's happened many times since. But during a visit to what could have been my grandmother's deathbed? Worse.
(riuhiru, Sat 11 Feb 2006, 18:14, Reply)

I went to help format a friend's PC,
after it was formatted. And despite me hammering it into him that "you will lose anything we haven't backed up"; he comes up with "oops, my Mum's wedding photographs were on there".

However, as it was a fresh format, I knew a recovery app would probably get them back. I told him not to do anything on him (I had visions of him creating a 40gb bitmap in paint and wiping all the magical magnetic data).

I return with some file-rescue app and load it up. Magically we can choose to only recover pictures! I think you now know where this is going.

End result was me having to sit next to my friend for a good hour whilst porn picture after porn picture (and some were quite worrying) flashed up, with a 3 second or so pause in which I could look even more horrified and my friend could make up a whole new excuse for it's being there.
( stevierar, Fri 10 Feb 2006, 12:00, Reply)

I am not a Nazi!
I wanted to find a picture of Hitler to mess with at work.

My boss came over to discuss some work, I minimised everything but for some reason due to a delayed opening an explorer window was left open the middle of the screen with:

WEBSENSE : BLOCKED

CATAGORY : RACE HATE

My boss was not impressed.
(Minty Hit, Fri 10 Feb 2006, 11:19, Reply)

my brother left this
"how do I perform a decent murder?"
(Baron von Aaron CHARGE!, Fri 10 Feb 2006, 14:35, Reply)

Alsation
I asked an "IT support" friend to come and upgrade the RAM on my computer. I left him to it, and tried not to worry that he'd already drank about 8 pints of wifebeater when he turned up and carried on drinking while he was doing the job.
Anyway after he left the PC wouldn't work AT ALL, it wouldn't even turn in. I rang a local IT professional to sort it all out, which he did in minutes, and we switched it on to check it worked. It worked perfecty. And what had my friend chosen for my new wallpaper while he was "working" on my PC?
A woman being stiffed up the arse by an alsation. Thanks Tim.
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Fri 10 Feb 2006, 13:21, Reply)

Ah, youth...
Last week I got the helpful IT guy to do a complete etch-a-sketch on my laptop, which has been running slow for years, with loads of spyware, adware etc all over the shop. He took all the files off, put them somewhere else and wiped the laptop, then put them back.

I was pretty confident I didn't have anything tooooooo odd in those files.

This week he started teasing me about "parties."

Oh my god, he had found my teenage poetry! I used to write the exploits of the weekend up in verse, and there were plenty of marvellous sonnets about house parties, beach parties, you name it. And now it was probably public knowledge! The shame!

No, it turned out he was talking about a movie called "Hot Twink Butt-Fuck Party" that was on there.

Phoned my gay housemate from university. Yes, he was fwapping away on my broadband connection most nights when I was out. No, he didn't think the "twinks" in the onscreen conga line of buggery were exactly legal. I had been carrying underage gay pron around unknowingly for the better part of five years.
(oranguturn, Fri 10 Feb 2006, 13:12, Reply)

Curses!
I made the mistake of shooting up whilst sitting in front of my computer. The next day it went down to the police station and grassed me up.

The bastard.
( Gleeballs is mostly made out of chocolate and hate., Fri 10 Feb 2006, 11:12, Reply)

Red Handed
I was working as a sysadmin a long time ago for a large company, around the time when internet connected PCs really started to take a foothold on employees desktops.

Obviously this was in the days when users were naive and less savvy than now, they didnt know about internet caches, firewall logs or content advisors, and as a result used to abuse the new found internet connectivity that they had at work.

One such abuse occurred one evening when I was working late rebuilding a mailserver.
I was bored watching blue bars cross the screen as the server installed, so I checked out the firewall logs from the day, as part of an ongoing clampdown on freeing up bandwidth.
I noticed some interesting entries which had only just been logged, (they were nothing outlandish, just normal filth), so I resolved the IP address of the originator, and walked up to his floor to confront him about it, albeit in an amusing fashion.

Imagine my suprise, or should that be horror, when I rounded the corner to his cube and found him furiously wanking over his new found images!!
(LunarJim, Tue 14 Feb 2006, 14:33, Reply)

Possibly urban legend...
...but a good friend swears this is true.

Now, my good friend was a bit of a techy in his time, and lots of people trusted him to fix their computers for them. One such person was on his uni course and was having problems with his trusty 'pooter booting up, which was a bad thing because he had coursework to do. Or something.

Anyway, he left his PC with my friend to have it sorted. It was a pretty quick job, so once fixed, Mr Techie decides to have a bit of a root around the "My Documents" folder to see if there's any animal porn or anything which can be used to extort money.

There wasn't animal porn, but there were a couple of pictures intriguingly entitled "Me 1", "Me 2" and so on. Shameful self portraits? Very old photos of bad hair? Worth a look, surely.

In fact, it was a sequence of images from a flat-bed scanner. Images of the computer owner's man-sausage laid out on the scanning bed. In chronological order, from casually nonchalont to full attention, and one "post snake-spit". Yum, eh? Needless to say they were posted on the department notice board within days.

And that's why I never lick scanners.
(Fat Bear is adjusting your breasts on, Sun 12 Feb 2006, 12:29, Reply)