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This is a question My Arch-nemesis

I lived in fear of a Darth Vader-esque school dinner lady who stood me perpetually at the naughty table for refusing to eat mushy peas. An ordeal made worse after I was caught spooning the accursed veg into her wellies. Who, we ask, has wrecked your life?

Thanks to Philly G for the suggestion

(, Thu 29 Apr 2010, 12:01)
Pages: Popular, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

This question is now closed.

As I leaned over...
... and felt the gorge rising, I knew this one was going to be a stonker. Sure enough, from the tips of my toes it started, the spasms rising relentlessly from the ground up, increasing in magnitude as they passed my rugby-toned thighs, and pausing only for the merest moment to induce cramps in my gut, they continued their journey, worsening as they rose.

Chin falling to my chest, there was nothing I could do as the bitter bile, squeezed by a thousand well-ordered muscle clenches, rose in my throat, signaling the inevitability of what was to come. Neck stretching, I hurled the contents of my stomach high into the air, where its arc-like path hung, glistening and dewy-like in the early evening sun.

That was my arched emesis.

What? Arch-nemesis? Oh, never mind. I'll get me coat.
(, Sun 2 May 2010, 3:51, Reply)
I used to work at this place....
10 of us in a workshop, validating fault-finding software by simulating faults in a system and then seeing if the software could pick it up.

JR would sit about making very little effort, walking about, starting chats, achieveing little. Later on he applied for an HNC course at the company's expense but covered his coursework by buying replica 'exam pass' essays from the internet, from previous class mates, from anyone... when the entire company had their annual bonuses awarded he was the ONLY person to complain that his was not enough because of 'all the stuff I do about here.. I deserve twice as much'. NOT.

He would choose not to work hard to justify his pay but undermine me by lying about how little I had done by comparison (I was relaxed but not unproductive- I thought smart instead of worked dumb), but would still smile to my face and pretend to be concerned about my well being even after I found out his tricky nasty little game of badmouthing me to everyone else in the same department.

He soon fucked off to another company , lured by the pay they were offering, and then ended up working on-site as a resident engineer at a supplier of audio equipment. I thought I would never see him again and was well pleased.

Except I did see him again, a few years later.

It was when I was driving a company Aston Martin DB9 into HIS company premises because they were performing EMC checks for us, when I saw him in passing. 'Alright JR?' I asked. 'Er, Yeah. Alright GS' he replied. 'What are you doing here?'

'Just parking the car. You can't even start the engine as you're not insured. See that they analyse the EMC and come back to us (me and AS)by Monday, will you?'

*DB9 envy tieiememe win!!!!one!!*
(, Sun 2 May 2010, 2:55, Reply)
My arch keeps falling
So naturally, it's nemesis is whatever causes that. I can't be arsed to look it up.
(, Sun 2 May 2010, 1:27, Reply)
I am supposed to be doing one now... so maybe its the internet thats my arch-nemisis... or maybe even B3ta... no not b3ta or the internet, it must be the essays.

thats another couple of minutes wasted, any suggestions?
(, Sun 2 May 2010, 0:28, 2 replies)
This may take a while...depending how sidetracked I get.
I'll just set the scene a bit. Twas the week before Xmas 1999. The company I worked for had just been ripped to shit by Watchdog, nothing to do with my systems but the systems got blamed. So me and me oppo get to spend the week living at the office, from the Sunday til the Friday (Xmas eve). Anyway, after Xmas we find out we're going to have a director to report to, no big deal as directors know fuck all and they're meant to leave you alone to get the job done and take all the credit. This CUNT was different...brought my replacement to the getting to know you meeting etc. The thing is, is that I'm not your average systems manager, I'm a 1%er, member of a motorcycle club and not known for my tolerance of fuckwits. To cut a long story short, I moved to Canada for 3 year with my now ex wife and for that period of time the Mekon had many misfortunes, 2 cars stolen and burnt out ( joyriders are naughty). House trashed, and has developed a nervous conditioned set off by Harley Davidsons. Oddly enough its got worse since I got back in the country. Yes CUNTO I'm your nemesis and am going to make your life more of a living hell than it is now.
(, Sat 1 May 2010, 23:37, 13 replies)
Marshall Mathers
is my arch-Eminem.
(, Sat 1 May 2010, 19:52, 5 replies)
Not myself, but a friend and his boss.
Down in old South Wales there is a quite well known major steelworks company who own a few sites, and one of me mates (who I will refer to as "J") and his 6 foot 5 co-worker "A" were under the supervision of the Bastard Manager "BM". They both work shifts along with a few others in their department, and all was well until this cunt turned up and started cutting alot of corners.

J and A both got lots of hassle and harrasment from BM for pretty much anything he could find, right down to changing the rota at the last possible second, making them work days off for free etc etc, really making their life miserable as feck.

But whatever the score, the real reason I'm typing this and hopefully the main reason why you guys haven't flaked out while reading this yet is for what is about to come.

The burly A had a hobbie outside of work which was rugby. Being a giant of a man he's had no problems fitting in with his team and has earned quite alot of respect from the rest of the squad through the lots of matches he's participated in. One particular Sunday morning however A hit the jackpot.

There, before him and his team, standing on the pitch, was the opposition. Who was with them and standing there looking rather nervously up at A? Bastard Manager, filling his pants.

"Oh fuck yes, that one's mine" said A to the rest of his team, who all nodded and smiled.It was also just loud enough so that BM could here it, who could only look at A and whimper.

Apparently what happened over the next 80 minutes was nothing short of ABH. As soon as BM had the ball, A would sprint like fuck at him and bull-charge the fucker into next week. Deliberate fouls, being dropped on his neck a few times and thrown off the pitch due to one tackle, BM actually didn't raise his voice once to A and just took what was clearly owed to him, all of which was punctuated at the end of the match when they shook hands.

All BM could manage was "Gooo gam..." as his jaw was half swollen due to a particularly nasty shoulder block to the chin in the 1st half. He loosely shook A's hand and limped off into the changing rooms, wincing after every step.

Apparently the damage was still visible in the office for the next fortnight, with A and J loving every moment of it.
(, Sat 1 May 2010, 19:20, 1 reply)
My arch nemesis
It has to be the QOTW. Every second week, about 5 min after it closes I remember an awesome story that would have won if only it was posted. Instead I sit there and read through as much as I can, lol'ing and thinking to myself "wouldn't it just be super if I could post a story that didn't suck"

Now if you'll excuse me it's time I put my pants on the outside of my tights and run around the room with a cape on.
(, Sat 1 May 2010, 17:19, Reply)
My fiancee owns Basement Cat.
If you ever go to the Lolcats website you'll know what I mean- the black cat with green eyes, the Desolate One, the First of the Fallen, the Destroyer of Souls, She Who Must Not Be Named.

In truth she looks a lot like this:

She's a fairly average-looking black cat with short fur. Often she's quite snuggly, and in particular has taken to me over her actual owner.

The thing is, she's always there, lurking in a corner.

I wake up in the morning to her walking on my bladder. If I throw her off she simply returns. When I get up to go piss, I turn around to find her watching me from the doorway because she pushes the door open. I go downstairs to make coffee and turn around and trip over her. When the coffee is made and I take a cup to the living room to sit down in a chair, I invariably sit on top of her. Once she's made her protests known and has stalked around the room, she waits until I have the laptop open and then jumps up onto the keyboard.

When I cook dinner she's there under my feet until I kick her, at which point she lurks in the corner. We sit down to eat and there she is, finding a piece of paper or a plastic bag or something else noisy to tromp around on so that we pay attention to her. If we're watching TV she finds something else crinkly to thrash around on, making as much noise as possible. When we go to bed she's there at the top of the stairs waiting for us. If I lock her out of the room she claws at the door. Once she's in she insists on sleeping between my knees.

The last thing I see every night is this:

The one question that I've had for my fiancee that she's never been able to answer is...

What the hell does she WANT?

Actually, she's starting to make me think of Teh Fear...
(, Sat 1 May 2010, 17:07, 5 replies)
my arch-nemesis

look at the purple smug bastards
(, Sat 1 May 2010, 12:39, 9 replies)
My Bitch of a Dorm-mate....
I have learned to despise her with every fiber of my being. She always has to find some way of proving that she is somehow better than me.
While I'm sleeping in late, she's up early, putting on makeup and making sure she looks nic(er than me). While I usually just roll out of bed and go to class in my jammies, shes wearing a stylish outfit that everybody just loves to compliment her on.
She always gets higher grades than me in classes ( we have the same major, and therefore have many of the same classes), the teachers love her and love talking to her, while I just sit there and try to fade into the chair so as not to be called upon.
While I have this mop of brown and pink hair, she managed to be born with perfect red hair, and she just loves to flaunt it. She literally oozes sexuality from every pore of her being, while I make half hearted attempts at flirting with the boy who sits next to me in Sociology.
Hell, even my friends think she is more fun than I am! They always want to come over and chat with her, see what new cause she is behind, etc. I just sit there and play video games on my Xbox(Left 4 Dead 2 WINS!)
Her parents always call her their angel, because she goes home all time to help her elderly grandparents. Mine usually complain about how much money I cost them because I had to drop a class and take another one over the summer(at increased rates).
And it's the worst when I go to eat at our dorm cafeteria. While I'm sitting there chowing down on my chicken alfredo with Mt. Dew, she's delicately eating her tofu stir fry and vegetarian friendly salad(with water to drink, of course).
Somehow, she has managed to make herself better than me at everything I set out to do.
And to make things even worse, I have to put up with her even when I go home, because she and I are one in the same.
(, Sat 1 May 2010, 8:23, 3 replies)
Neville Fucking Bartos

(, Sat 1 May 2010, 5:31, 5 replies)
"This time."
"This time I'm not gonna post..."

Damn them!
(, Sat 1 May 2010, 3:18, Reply)
My ultimate nemesis
The dreaded QOTW!

Every week it drags me back, half the time it is shit and I get angry. Most of the stories are too long to read, and I get in trouble for reading them at work, but dammit, I am there, every week, reading them all.

(, Sat 1 May 2010, 3:05, Reply)
It was the sound he made...
(, Sat 1 May 2010, 2:15, 7 replies)
Satellite navigated, GPS enhanced, weapons grade blocking
The bass player in a band I used to be in takes his wife with him everywhere he goes.

Apart from her inane conversation and deadly farts that smell of despair, she had an unerring ability to be in my way. Every week at rehearsal she'd be standing right where I wanted to set my amp up. I'd move her (politely, through gritted teeth) and she'd move to where my pedalboard was going to be. I'd move her again and she'd step to where I needed to stand... At gigs, she'd be directly between me & the stage as I brought my gear in... or if we weren't setting up straight away that would be the night she'd have thought to get out of the way for me... by standing in the alcove next to everyone else's stuff, just where mine was going to go.

She truly was my nemesis; I'm glad I'm not in that band any more!
(, Sat 1 May 2010, 0:42, Reply)
Stupid Bitch
When I was a lowly Radiographer I never knew who this woman was. The Chief Information Officer. Who was that and what did she do? Then I got promoted, double the salary, and a load of responsibility.
Being a person in a 'caring' profession, I have no choice but to care, and whether its a patient in front of me, or the system I am responsible for, I will do my best to do my best.

Systems get old and need replacing. We were looking at possibilities when by accident one of this woman's underlings dropped into my lap a tender for a regional solution of such monumental shitness it would have rendered the Radiologists job impossible and directly compromised patient safety.

Being green and enthusiastic I wrote an e mail pointing out the shortcomings of the proposed system to a lot of important clinical people and to the Chief Executive. This is when I met her. The CIO.

I saw in front of me a woman in her late 40's. Dressed smartly, small and quite attractive. As we spoke I realized that she was flirting with the Clinical Director of Radiology, happily for me, he is a happily married gentlemen who wouldn't dream of playing on the side. She them tried the charm with me, whilst simultaneously trying the 'this is bigger than you' line. I told her where my loyalty lay, and that her scheme was doomed to failure. She tried to then get me on the committee to implement it! I declined siting a conflict of interest (I was in the process of buying 2 million dollars worth of gear from a tenderer for this project) so escaped.

Over the next year we went through the tender process, my IT/IS colleges would quake in fear at this woman's name. She had them terrified, to the point where everything that came out of their mouths would be '** wouldn't agree" or'** wants us to" I would say do the right thing, bollocks to **.

It came to a head when we picked a system that she didn't want. I was at a meeting where I had to unsubtly argue that she was both ignorant of the system, and ignorant of the clinical needs and that she should have no part of the decision. She did things like tell a vendor he should sue us in an open meeting (remember she was the CIO for the company) that our tendering process was wrong and that the team that choose the system were swayed by accommodation on the site visits!!!

She was poison.

It all ended happily when her mate left the Chief Exec job and was replaced by an outsider. After a report from the procurement team, the Chief Finacial Offocer and the Chief Operating Officer she left us..

And got promoted to a national position!!

Happily more pay, but less influence.

Later on I was told that she got her job because she was fucking the old Chief Exec, that the reason that she stopped interfering was that in that teleconference someone traced her telephone line to the same one being used by the unsuccessful tenderer, and she was later seen entering his hotel room on another tender visit.

(, Fri 30 Apr 2010, 23:26, 11 replies)
Food is my nemesis.
For a couple of years I found myself in a downward spiral when my life changed dramatically within the course of 2 months. (For you newbies - hubby kicked me out and mum died).

At first, it was great 'cos I could eat what I wanted instead of what he said, so for the first month or so I was cooking loads and enjoying it. But then mum died and I found out I'm one of those people who flat out do not eat when depressed or under serious stress.

For two years now I've had a love-hate relationship with food. I will go for up to 4 days before I succumb to 'the enemy', then will eat dinner for a few days before fighting the enemy back down.

Control issue? Yes. I can control my nemesis, but my doctor thinks food controls me. It doesn't, I just can't eat when I'm down.

Look fucking great in a bikini, though!
(, Fri 30 Apr 2010, 23:09, 17 replies)
probably bindun, but I find my biggest hindrance is myself (or at least the entity that thinks in my head, let us call him "myself")

I have always questioned myself: why? how could you let that happen, or let them do that to you? When things go wrong, rather than a rational, "well things happen" I think, "I really deserve it because I am failing in _____ area of my life."

I am hugely mistrustful, because I believe everyone has ulterior motives for being friendly; sadly, sometimes reality has proved this correct, but reason says it's simply not true.

I long for the same things everyone else longs for, but myself tells me that I'm not good enough, or fast enough, or strong enough, or handsome enough. The problem is that this causes a reaction of fierce anger, sadness, withdrawal, indifference, clownishness, and loneliness.

Unfortunately, unlike people with character and the ability to withstand trials, I have forfeited some of my choice and freedoms through actions that I initially hoped would dull the feelings, but simply enslaved me to something that is a catalyst to worse feelings and magnified pain. Myself has a lot to say about that, usually pointing out other people who faced much worse and still came out, head held high.

I long to soar, to love, to sing, to cry, to laugh. My hope has kept me earth bound and I have to fight myself to prove this hope is worth it. Sometimes the ball's in his court, sometimes in mine.

I have been blessed with things that many people would kill for. Why can't I overcome myself and joy in them? Why does myself remind me of my flaws and weaknesses? To paraphrase U2, where can I go to leave myself behind?

I keep waking up; I keep bathing, shaving, dressing correctly. I keep trying to smile and not become a whiner or an attention seeker - I can rationally see where myself's logic is all screwed up. I'm trying to become free from the addictions that have chained me to myself and relinquished my freedoms.

I'm not a nutjob, mind you, I just find it hard to overcome some of the negative kharma I receive from myself.

Sorry for the lack of funnies/interestingnesses.
(, Fri 30 Apr 2010, 21:47, 7 replies)
My Unknown Toilet Enemy
I am one of those people who regularly attends the office bogs every day as I am quite happy to say I feel 10 times better after a good dump, whether it be in work in a toilet cubicle or in my own home (on a toilet, of course :p).

As I work in a large office however there are various Gents dotted around the large building. As a result of this I am very picky as to what toilet I want to use. If there is a small puddle in front of it, urine smudged upon the seat or maybe something worse, I will avoid like the plague. Also if the lock on the door fails to work then neither do my bowels, amount of loo roll left etc etc. So I end up drifting about like a twitching hobo until I find a loo that fits my criteria. When I do find one, 5-10 minutes of bliss is experienced as I deposit the faecal matter into the pot of despair. All is well in the land of Jeccius once more.

However. One particular fateful day in the office and Jeccy was doing his usual "toilet surveillance", and spotted a nice tidy and more importantly dry cubicle to "pay my deposit to the porcelain bank" as it were. I sit down and lean forward, egging my way towards some brown bliss when for some reason I turn my head to my left, following a smell which was not coming from me. At eye level, just about a foot from my nose was the plastic toilet roll dispenser. And sitting upon the top of this was a plastic cup from a vending machine in the break area.

And the cup was full of shit. Someone else's shit. And it stank. Of shit, no less. It stank of someone else's shit.

I almost puked. But I had another problem too. I'd only noticed this alien-turd-coffee after I had started releasing one myself, and for the love of God I couldn't stop mid-flow. So I sat there, hands clasped around my mouth as I struggled to evacuate both the contents of my arse and out of the cubicle before I'd add some chunder to the potent mix. I managed to finish up rather quickly, grab some roll rather sheepishly from under the brown cuppa-soup and wipe like my motherfucking life depended upon it. Once done, a quick flush and I was out of there.

5 minutes later I actually had to report it to our HR (which was fun), and they had to send in some poor bastard from Facilities to properly give the contents of the cup a burial at sea, but they never did determine which dirty bastard in our building laid the cup-log in the first place.

I have an enemy in this building, and he currently has no face. But he has logs, and is not afraid to share them. He is my unknown toilet-nemesis, and I still live in fear of finding another Chalice of Ultimate Brown-Power.
(, Fri 30 Apr 2010, 19:49, 11 replies)
Berkshire Hunt
I used to work for a large British institution, until one day they decided to sell of the arm that I worked for to a bunch of chancers.

One of the chancers bought in one of his mates to be our 'manager'.

On his first day, he introduced himself to all the project managers in a room on a one-to-one basis. Then he sent for me - a lowly programmer.
Little did I know, it wasn't to introduce himself, but to give me a bollocking for having 12 days off sick (genuine illness) 3 years prior to him joining the firm.

I sat there shocked. I asked him if he'd reviewed my record for the year prior to that as well. He had. No days off at all, not even holiday in that year as I was apparently 'too busy'. The year after, a similar story - clearly I was no serial sickie taker. I suppose we didn't really get off on the right foot, and my informing him there and then that "if that's the way it's going to be, then work-to-rule it is..." probably didn't help much. Well, he could hardly expect me to start rebuilding servers at 5pm after that, could he?

However, it seems his dislike of me (at first glance it would seem, seeing as I hadn't spoken a word to him prior to that meeting) wen way beyond anything professional. There was the time that he'd quite simply 'slag me off' for my 'fanciful ideas' with my 'head in the cloud' to pretty much anyone that would listen. My fanciful ideas in this instance was to convert our systems to run over the web (this was 1998-99, so not exactly science fiction) to save us money on renting time on a very expensive network and to email documents to our US office rather than box up reams of green-lined paper and send it over by boat. Seriously. He's simply throw any idea from my head away before I'd even finished speaking it.
At one time, I sat next to him for a week in our London office. The following week, back at our main office, I was told that I hadn't put the hours in and I would have to catch up. I obviously quieried this, and was told that because I was in the London office and there was no clocking-in system that he had no proof that I was at work. He claimed he couldn't remember sitting next to me. Twat. He lost the little credibility he still had for the entire firm after that.
I rose above it and did the hours. Well...I did the hours by changing my entries in the M$ Access database that held the records from the clocking in system and making it look like I did the hours. No fucking way was I doing a single minute more than I had to at that place - a place where I used to work every hour under the sun to get the job done prior to this cock joining.

I left in the end. I hear he and his chancer mate were both escorted from the building by security some months later.

I'd like to say I had a hand in his (really quite crap) attempted fraud, but sadly the fear of getting caught prevents me from doing so ;-)
(, Fri 30 Apr 2010, 19:45, 3 replies)
My Nemesis
I had planned everything out to the letter. I did the deed and continued to make the necessary adjustments to the scene by planting evidence. The following day the cops showed up and asked a lot of questions about the victim. Did I know he was suicidal?,How long I`d worked with him?, Known him etc...

Anyway the questions continued for quite a while and I was getting quite frustrated and angry. I had to make some stuff up about the victim to try to lead the cops to the wrong conclusion/guy. Eventually I was found out and now I`m doing life.

Damn you Columbo
(, Fri 30 Apr 2010, 19:23, 3 replies)
I would say my arch-nemesis
is the internet when I'm home alone. I get fuck-all done even though I start the day with a checklist. Putting off cutting the grass for another ten minutes will hardly turn the garden into a jungle.
(, Fri 30 Apr 2010, 18:58, Reply)
Honda accord posters
Not the people who post quite-probably exaggerated, but still often amusing, posts, but the sniping cunts who reply to them with the rather tiring "and then you were sucked off by a supermodel in a Honda Accord".

Even if you had any reason, except being a twat, for posting these comments, you could at least express your disbelief in a manner that doesn't make you look like a catchphrase-spouting moron. I hate you.
(, Fri 30 Apr 2010, 18:29, 10 replies)
School-yard rowdyness.
As an adult I am, at the last measurement, about 5'11" high. However, as a child I was around 6 to 12 inches shorter than my classmates.
I was unlucky enought to be both short for my age and in a school year ahead of the one I should be. I was also hyperactive and short tempered.
On one drizzley day in the north of England young me was hapilly letting gravity propell some form of skateboard down the drive of the prep school he was attending when, out of nowhere, someone pushed a go-kart in the way. To say that younger-me was miffed is like saying America wasn't too keen on Pearl Harbour. Young me immediately began to remonstrate with the boy responsible for said kart. The boy would not apologise. My recollection is that young me hit the boy around the head a few times and threw him to the floor at the side of the drive.
This is where my nemesis interviened.
He was the captain of the rugby team and, because of that, the darling of the school. He was younger than me, but only by months -- but he could run much faster (I was no slouch back then) and could catch a ball, which I couldn't.
Anyhow, on seeing his friend atached by me he lept at me and tried to tackle me. We were pretty well matched so I remained upright and spun him off. We returned blows, I was surprised that his hurt, and were almost at stalemate. Then I managed to throw a right hook, with all my weight behind it, which succesfully contacted his nose and produced a spurt of blood.
By this time the schoolmasters had arrived at the scene and proceeded to quiz us. My now nemesis told them it was all fair, but I landed a lucky punch and he could take me.
By this time I had calmed down and we put it down to experience.
It could have ended there but, over the years, he won award after award and I sank into normality.
A few years ago now I found out he is now dating (or was last report) Kirsty Gallacher and seems to be doing well for himself.
It's easy to see who was the better man.
(skulks off into a corner)
(, Fri 30 Apr 2010, 18:23, 1 reply)
My dad kidnapped my son
When he was 7 and disappeared with him for several days. My parents have always wanted him to be their son because they never liked me and I was an only child so he was their sedcond chance to raise a kid and actually show them "love" this time.

The police questioned mom but never arrested her since she was not the one who had taken him. She wouldn't tell them where my dad was and all she would say was that he took him away and that I would never see him again. Also my dad was a local cop (read another crooked local cop) so this added to the lack of help from the local police.

Luckily since my dad left the state with him it became a federal case so the FBI are the ones who finally caught my dad and got my son back. He was released later because there was no evidence that he had crossed state lines other than the word of my son who was a minor and that wasn't enough evidence since he was caught in state. So it had to be handled by the local police. The local police refused to do anything to their friend so my dad got away with it. At the time I didn't care i had my son back.

So anyway after all that I cut all contacts with my parents. They had done crazy stuff to me and my son for years I could overlook but that was kind of a biggie. The real clencher is that they sued me last year to have visitation rights with my son AND WON!!! Thank you local crooked judge! There's a lot more to it than that but long story short, I'm court ordered to make my son go stay with my crazy kidnapper parents every month.

The system works gentelmen!
(, Fri 30 Apr 2010, 18:10, 3 replies)
Dodgy business owner
A few years back I was a manager in the environmental protection agency. In my dept we dealt with spillages, toxic waste from industrial accidents to retail business dealing with their waste issues that might affect the environment, fly tipping etc. That along with looking into and approving and licensing companies that dealt with this commercially. It was a pretty responsible position that I took seriously.
We were informed about a new business that had started and was promising a lot to clients and they used a lot of PR and TV advertising. We went round on a semi official visit where I was met by one of the co-owners who claimed to have a doctorate, which was unsubstantiated , and refused to let me inspect his unlicensed facility for storing the waste product, he couldn’t show me any plans or what testing they had done for this kind of long term storage or even any safeguards which was very perturbing as it appeared to be self built.
But what really annoyed me was how rude and patronising to me personally but also his attitude to the health hazard this threatened which was huge as it was in a heavily urbanised area.
Experience told me that it had to be some kind of scam as it just didn’t add up along with the co-owners obfuscation and patronising attitude, we had great working relationships with all our waste storage companies and this one was totally unlike them.

As per correct procedure, I immediately went back to the office and pulled out the necessary paperwork to get it shut it down as I was really concerned and also, I admit, to put him down a peg or two, I called for police back up who we thankfully had a good relationship with and were able to support us at short notice. I also had someone from the power company to shut the power off and to make sure it was safe.
We arrived and again met by the co-owner who the police managed to subdue despite his protestations and we shut it down. Unfortunately due to the way it had been built it caused minor explosion and waste release.
To cut a long story short we took them to court , despite my reasoned arguments and what I thought demonstrated showing that they were con artists the mayor found in their favour I think mainly due to their scaremongering and also to some political considerations and directed the cities services to give them all the support they needed.
They subsequently managed to destroy swathes of the city and, I think deliberately, completely doused me in molten marshmallow

I really hate that Peter Venkman
(, Fri 30 Apr 2010, 18:05, 13 replies)
My Story
A few years back.

So there I was in the street by my mum and dads house, I was swapping football stickers with some kids, when I saw a car do a U'ey in the road. He drove straight towards the kids, luckily I sheilded them but managed to drop my bag of Double-Dip sherbert in the process as his spolier clipped my arm.

I think he was driving a Honda Accord...
(, Fri 30 Apr 2010, 16:59, Reply)

This question is now closed.

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