Messing with people's heads
Theophilous Thunderwulf says: What have you done to fuck with people? Was it a long, carefully planned piece of psychological warfare, or do you favour quick, off-the-cuff comments that confuse the terminally gullible? Have you been dicked with, and only realised many years later? Are you being dicked right now? Tell us everything.
( , Thu 12 Jan 2012, 11:25)
Theophilous Thunderwulf says: What have you done to fuck with people? Was it a long, carefully planned piece of psychological warfare, or do you favour quick, off-the-cuff comments that confuse the terminally gullible? Have you been dicked with, and only realised many years later? Are you being dicked right now? Tell us everything.
( , Thu 12 Jan 2012, 11:25)
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I've never met a nice South African
I used to work at a desk next to a South African guy that I hated. With a passion. We both had 'L' shaped desks connected at a point to make a half rectangle. We sat back to back. One of his worst crimes against me, the one that really pissed me off, was reading my paper without asking. Yes, I got annoyed about a simple thing like that, and yes, it was only The Sun, but by God it annoyed the shit out of me.
Every morning, about 10:30 when he went to make his coffee, he would come back to his desk, slide over next to me, pretend to make conversation and then reach over and grab the paper whilst saying 'Well, let's see what's going on in the world today then', or something similar, but never 'Mind if I have a quick squizz of your paper there'?
After a while I tried to test how far he would go. I would put my paper further and further out of his reach to see how far he would go before asking. He never did. At one point I was pretty much placing it behind my CRT monitor, so much so that he would be pretty much leaned over my head, balancing on my shoulder, but at no point would he ask me to pass it to him.
Eventually there were a few snide comments pointed his way, most involving the word cunt. From this point on, he would read the paper when I stepped out of the room for a smoke. So I started taking it with me everywhere I went.
One day I must have left it at my desk after I went home for the night. The following morning it was in the bin - he had waited until the following morning to read it rather than politely ask me on the day. Hence a plan was hatched.
For a period of a few weeks, rather than leave them behind at work, or throw them away, I started stashing them in my drawers (not pants) at work. Built up a reasonable collection - a couple of weeks worth at least. And then just left them there. For about 6 months.
Once I felt enough time had passed, I began once again to leave my paper behind when I left work (he used to leave before me) safe in the knowledge that he would read it in the morning. Only before I left I would replace the inside pages with an issue from about 6 months ago leaving only the front and back cover as current news. I only did this every couple of days, just to fuck with him a little bit.
He never said anything. The cunt.
( , Fri 13 Jan 2012, 9:19, 6 replies)
I used to work at a desk next to a South African guy that I hated. With a passion. We both had 'L' shaped desks connected at a point to make a half rectangle. We sat back to back. One of his worst crimes against me, the one that really pissed me off, was reading my paper without asking. Yes, I got annoyed about a simple thing like that, and yes, it was only The Sun, but by God it annoyed the shit out of me.
Every morning, about 10:30 when he went to make his coffee, he would come back to his desk, slide over next to me, pretend to make conversation and then reach over and grab the paper whilst saying 'Well, let's see what's going on in the world today then', or something similar, but never 'Mind if I have a quick squizz of your paper there'?
After a while I tried to test how far he would go. I would put my paper further and further out of his reach to see how far he would go before asking. He never did. At one point I was pretty much placing it behind my CRT monitor, so much so that he would be pretty much leaned over my head, balancing on my shoulder, but at no point would he ask me to pass it to him.
Eventually there were a few snide comments pointed his way, most involving the word cunt. From this point on, he would read the paper when I stepped out of the room for a smoke. So I started taking it with me everywhere I went.
One day I must have left it at my desk after I went home for the night. The following morning it was in the bin - he had waited until the following morning to read it rather than politely ask me on the day. Hence a plan was hatched.
For a period of a few weeks, rather than leave them behind at work, or throw them away, I started stashing them in my drawers (not pants) at work. Built up a reasonable collection - a couple of weeks worth at least. And then just left them there. For about 6 months.
Once I felt enough time had passed, I began once again to leave my paper behind when I left work (he used to leave before me) safe in the knowledge that he would read it in the morning. Only before I left I would replace the inside pages with an issue from about 6 months ago leaving only the front and back cover as current news. I only did this every couple of days, just to fuck with him a little bit.
He never said anything. The cunt.
( , Fri 13 Jan 2012, 9:19, 6 replies)
Incidentally
A mate of mine had a less subtle way to deal with someone at his work who read his paper without asking. Once he had finished reading it he would just gaffer tape it to the desk.
( , Fri 13 Jan 2012, 9:20, closed)
A mate of mine had a less subtle way to deal with someone at his work who read his paper without asking. Once he had finished reading it he would just gaffer tape it to the desk.
( , Fri 13 Jan 2012, 9:20, closed)
I was thinking this one through
having considered the issue carefully, looked at all the possible solutions, I conclude that he could have left the newspaper in his bag.
Perhaps I over complicate things though.
( , Fri 13 Jan 2012, 9:28, closed)
having considered the issue carefully, looked at all the possible solutions, I conclude that he could have left the newspaper in his bag.
Perhaps I over complicate things though.
( , Fri 13 Jan 2012, 9:28, closed)
Don't knock Dear Deirdre.
She one hell of a foxy momma, and the stories are cheaper than buying Razzle.
Awoooga.
( , Fri 13 Jan 2012, 10:42, closed)
She one hell of a foxy momma, and the stories are cheaper than buying Razzle.
Awoooga.
( , Fri 13 Jan 2012, 10:42, closed)
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