Oh... no...
Not me but a good friend of mine. Name's Andy, decent enough chap, but has a tendency to speak his mind. A lot. Anyway, we'd just started college, and being music students, were just being shown how to use the recording equipment in the studio, which, like all recording studios, has an adjacent session room, with a sorta windowy thang inbetween so the techies and the performance students can make obscene gestures at each other. So we're taken into the opposite room to look at the equipment when the resident college techie Dan walks into the opposite room, dithering about with leads as he usually does. Andy spots him and says, "I fookin hate that Dan. Ohhh what an A class TWAT. I bet he's a bummer." Dan looks up and gives a funny look at the small crowd of students, particularly at Andy. We think that this must be a coincidence, I mean, we're in different rooms which are both completely soundproof right? Wrong. "Errr Andy... there are mics in the corner. This is a recording studio. Dickhead." The look on his face was just one of complete shock. Funnily enough Dan's never mentioned anything, but dishes out a fair amount of dirty looks Andys way.
(Hanargh, Wed 1 Jun 2005, 22:30, Reply)

Sing-Song
Word of advice: no matter how funny you think the song is, don't sing "Grandpa We Love You" with a bunch of drunken friends right in the face of a pal whose beloved Pops has just died from a protracted battle with lung cancer. Try and acknowledge the repeated pleadings of another friend who is desperately trying to get you to shut up soas not to make a grown man cry.

More of an onohalfhour after the deed, really...too pissed to realise the pain we were inflicting.
(the joe factory what makes joes, Wed 1 Jun 2005, 21:36, Reply)

well...
i probably put this(or similar) in the worst sh*t stories,but what the hey...
so im at army camp at the begining of the summer holidays 2004,just about to have my bday wen i get food poisoning (on the first day might i add). to cut a long story short, much projectile diahorrea (sp?) and vomit later and im finally on the mend. after enough immodium to block up niagra falls i feel,for the first time in days,that its safe to fart without shitting.
the "onosecond" here being that millisecond gap between pushing just a little *while still being able to stop*, and realising id sh*t meself.
(asme, Wed 1 Jun 2005, 21:24, Reply)

I am a tit
I just sent an email to 60 people addressed from "sexy"

what makes it worse is that my dad is one of the people that it went to.

I am going to be ripped at school tommorow :(

Ahwell
(clarkson4sheephahaha, Wed 1 Jun 2005, 21:23, Reply)

Oh yes, and also....
Having dinner at posh restaurant with my hippie mother and her ever so prudish, conservative family. The conversation dries up, so I, being the helpful 8 or 9 year old that I was, say loudly "Mummy, can a girl get pregnant the first time she has sex?" restaurant and family are stunned. Mother tries to supress laughter. Conversation rapidly starts up again about anything but what I just said.

I vaguely realise what I said must've been socially unacceptable.

And Mum never did tell me the answer....
(Pixel, Wed 1 Jun 2005, 20:43, Reply)

When I was only a wee lass....
I was summonded by my year 4 teacher to talk to the class about the religious troubles of Elizabeth the first. So I rambled on about the Protestants and Catholics...or so I thought....turns out I'd been saying 'Prostitutes' (being the naive eight year old that I was) instead of 'Protestants' for the whole thing. In later years, memories of my teacher's horribly contored 'trying not to laugh' face made so much more sense....
(Pixel, Wed 1 Jun 2005, 20:28, Reply)

On the Free Bus!
Y'know these bendy buses, right? More commonly known to me and my social circle as 'the Free Bus' (as it is grotesquely easy to bunk). Well, after a fairly drunken night in central London, my friend, my girlfriend and I were making our way home. Now, the immediate consequences of travelling on the Free Bus are that the lowest strata of society travel too, a whole new league to the general bus weirdos.

So, there we were, when a group of loudmouth cockney harridan slags got on, and literally belted out their inane 'conversation' for the entire length, girth and width of the bus to hear. A bus full of drunk and tired people just wanting to get home.

I, being the wrong side of 6 or 7 pints, and fired up in joker mode due to the missus' presence, decided to imitate their harpie-like shreech, and I intended to yelp out "Shut the fuck up, innit!", just at the right volume, so I could impress my lovely girl, my friend, and the immediate vicinity of the bus, so as to ease the weary irritation my fellow travellers and I were experiencing with a bit of referential humour.

So, without warning, out it came:
"SHUT THE FUCK UP, INNIT!"

Oh no.. A smidge too..

The next thing I know is that I'm hit by a wall of tartslag abuse from halfway down the bus. Threats of a slapping for my girl, a slapping for me, a slapping for my friend, various trips up and down the aise to yell at me face-to-face. At which point I thought 'fuck it', and just yelled back (in my normal - but angry - voice) at them that I was only saying what everyone else was thinking, and kindly asked them to shut their fucking mouths again. Out of the frying pan..

Basically, the torrent of foul abuse continued until our stop, where - emboldened by imminent freedom - I waved through the window and blew a kiss.

Oh no..

Off they got as well, screeching still.

I won't bore you with how it went on, it just gets boring from here anyway, in any case no-one got slapped (except a fairly feeble slap on the back of my head which wasn't worth a response).

Apologies for length, but you secretly love it..
( Quiver Search for FATALISTS on Spotify, Amazon, Apple, &c, Wed 1 Jun 2005, 19:20, Reply)

Bush Bash to wrong Smith
One day, before the president was (unfortunately) re-elected I received via email the most brilliant piece of Bush/Bush administration bashing I had ever read. Being from San Francisco, Bush bashes are constant, so in my excitment and glee I attempted to forward said bashing to my coworker. To my horror, I quickly realized that I had sent the email to the wrong Smith (who had the same first name). This wrong Smith is a higher up in the company and is a religious, Bush supporter from Utah. Ohshitsonofabitchsecond.

Was very nervous for a couple of days but never ended up hearing a thing about it.
(bazzing, Wed 1 Jun 2005, 19:06, Reply)

GeordieSteve Thanks
Nice, my mother no longer thinks i am innocent and is starting to question what went wrong with her 17 year old daughter... The goatse pics opened just as she walked into my bedroom, that i feel should count as an ono
(Bhougal...hang me upside down from a banana tree and call me BERTTIE BHOUGAL>>>Oh Yeah...!!, Wed 1 Jun 2005, 17:40, Reply)

The Underdogs.com
a few years ago I found a site called 'The Underdogs' - basically a repository of under-rated, mostly ancient, computer games many of which are out of publication and avaliable to download.

Downloaded an old DOS game I remembered from the 1980's at home one afternoon. Opened it up but everything was in french, guessed at one of the 2 options in the menu and the PC rebooted. Still couldn't make head nor tail of the game so thought I'd give up and rebooted the machine.

A dreadful pit-of-the-stomach onosecond when instead of booting Windows 98 the french game appeared again and again. Totally screwed up my computer (thankfully I managed to sort it)
(Scary, Wed 1 Jun 2005, 17:25, Reply)

Not me, but a strange friend
In college, I knew one of those nerdy guys who are always trying to please and be popular, but just doesn't quite get it that he's not.

The statistics prof had set up an email list for class announcements, etc. So my friend writes the butt-kissing-est email about how much he loved the class, how much he was getting out of it and how he really liked the prof's teaching style.

He sent this as "to class list" rather than to the prof.

We still talk about him.
( setimret likes his metaphors mixed, not stirred, Wed 1 Jun 2005, 17:18, Reply)

Ms Berttie Bhougal
Try typing it 'ere www.google.co.uk/imghp?hl=en&tab=wi&q=

p.s. it aint work safe!
( GeordieSteve, Wed 1 Jun 2005, 16:24, Reply)

My Bosses Acc*unt
I took a phone call for my boss.
I sent him an email about it.
It read "Its about your account"
I missed out the 'o' in account.

All very Freudian.
(cymro, Wed 1 Jun 2005, 16:22, Reply)

Help
Whats goatse??? Sorry ima naive person...so my mother thinks anyways could someone lemme know
Thanks
(Bhougal...hang me upside down from a banana tree and call me BERTTIE BHOUGAL>>>Oh Yeah...!!, Wed 1 Jun 2005, 16:05, Reply)

Similar vein to G-Funk's
BT's house messaging service thingy *where you send a text to a landline and some quirky sounding lass reads it out* is brilliant, or so i thought.

Sister was being an arse and wouldn't let me onto the computer so i sent a text to the house, saying "You're a shitty dick" thinking she'd answer it, and that it'd be hilarious.

It wasn't, she didn't, my nan did.

bollock.
(doris_day, Wed 1 Jun 2005, 15:35, Reply)

Reply all..
Workinga t a large county council office, we'd often recieve emails telling us someone left their lights on. i would often humourously change them and send them to my mates, once i hit reply all by accident though... suprisingly i didnt get in trouble for informing everyone of the nazi crushing cars in the staff car park, in his 'little tank'.
(Dan couldnt think of a funny name, Wed 1 Jun 2005, 15:21, Reply)

Since BT made it possible to..
..send text messages to "regular" home phones and have them read out by a computerized voice I was particularly surprised that swear-words weren't censored, so I was having much fun texting my mates. They answer the phone at home, and then some computer bird reads out, "Hey, are you coming down the pub fuck face?"

This went really well until I went to the pub one night and got a really funny (but highly racist, sexist and sweary) text message. I forwarded it on to my entire phone-book... which unfortunately included several home phone numbers - one in particular was the vicar who's doing our wedding next year.

I really hope he's got a sense of humour...
(G-Funk, Wed 1 Jun 2005, 14:16, Reply)

Work Mobile Phone Confusions
Once text my boss instead of my work colleague who sits at the same set of desks the following after I had phoned in sick.

"Has the fake tanned grey haired old slapper had a fucking moan about me yet the moon faced bint"

Needless to say I was flavour of the month.

Not
(hoogie Original Cunt Horse Author, Wed 1 Jun 2005, 12:15, Reply)

Meeting up with a client and my business partner
So I txt my client 'what time are we meeting the cunt?'

When I got there luck was on my side and he had lost his phone and had a new one that he couldn't switch on with no numbers in...
(doktored, Wed 1 Jun 2005, 11:45, Reply)

In a similar vein to Pleiades’ advice…
…probably well known to most of you computer whizzes, but fairly new to me: Our IT system isn’t the most secure. If yours is similar and you’ve sent an email to someone internally using Outlook, click “File” “Open” “Other User’s Folder” and enter the recipient’s name and you can delete the offending e-mail from their inbox. This is no better than Pleiades’ advice but does also give you access to all e-mail in the office… ;¬)
(Scoobs, Wed 1 Jun 2005, 9:53, Reply)

MSN foolishness
Colleague of mine was wont on occasions to being an irritating German twunt, despite most of the time being a nice guy.

One such occasion he is getting on my tits, so I try to share the evidence of his twuntness with a mate on MSN. Instead of double clicking on my mate's name, I doublue click German guy's name and type...

"Bloody Hitlerburg" (enter)

A former colleague of mine once did the same thing to my boss; after a bit of a row about shifts, he clicked on her name and typed "Just had a big row with Julia - what a bitch!" That episode contributed to his current status as a "former" colleague.
(absurdistan, Wed 1 Jun 2005, 8:35, Reply)

Nice new hair
I was lying in bed last night with my girlfriend when she commented that she liked my new haircut.
Fair enough says I and remembering that she said she was having hers done (she didn't say when) asked the innocent question of
"Oh thank you, when are you getting yours done?"
In between the words vacating my mouth and me installing my foot firmly in their place my brain kicked in and went "Onooooooooo".

Even though I couldn't tell the difference betwixt the old and new, I knew in my heart of hearts she had, and that my whole universe was about to get a whole lot less fun.
Fortunately I somehow used my boyish charm and good looks to prevent her castrating me and we are now back on speaking terms.

Length, Girth? They were my only saving graces last night.
(A bit Manchester, Wed 1 Jun 2005, 8:13, Reply)

Ono = Hoho
I used to work for a national IT training company in London. I had recently been given a lecture as I had been caught checking out some (fairly mild) pron one day which was sent by a colleague to everyone in the office, boss included, and was given a written warning by boss who was despite all else, a 100% cuntwhore arsebitch. Following day I am sitting at my desk and she, in her nasal high-pitched whine, announces that her boyf has sent her a rude e-mail. She opens the MPEG attachment to see some thin guy sticking his head up an enormously fat womans vagina. Over and over again. Cue much nasal screaming of "OHMYGOD!" and me almost soiling myself with glee. Then there was the time they were all trying to remember the names of all the Golden Girls, so she browses www goldengirls com and is presented with the filthyest golden-shower page in the world. She was a fucking arsehole that one.
( Normanator Bad case of trapped wind since, Wed 1 Jun 2005, 7:55, Reply)

If You've Sent a Dodgy Email...
For all the people who have sent the offensive email then "raced into his/her office and deleted it whilst they were off getting a Bonox", there may be an easier way. If your office is a Microsoft Exchange system, and you're using Outlook, there is the option of Recalling the email. Only works if they haven't read it yet.

You open the email from your "Sent Items" folder, then click Action-Recall This Message.

Has saved my arse a few times, let me tell you.
(Pleiades, Wed 1 Jun 2005, 7:44, Reply)

Once
I was working for the New York Times and I found this messageboard with these really funny British people on it lol and I decided to write a book of all their made-up stories and I posted all these really stupid irrelevant messages grovelling them to contribute. Then I realized what I cunt I was- they wanted to read funny stories and instead they were confronted with spam-like messages from me asking them about life's little annoyances like ATM receipts and telemarketers! Garsh aren't they annoying tho?

Ono!

So I went home and rearranged my porcelain figurines to work through my humiliation at having done such a thing.
(Mabel DelTaco, Wed 1 Jun 2005, 5:53, Reply)

Your son is perverted.
Yahoo! lets you have an ID with five other aliases attached, so I set up a private alias for my bondage/BDSM fetish. ;) Which I kept well secret.

One day, I sent birthday wishes to my mom on Messenger: "Happy belated birthday! Hope it was nice. :)"

"Thanks! But who are you?" she replied. Seemed I forgot to switch profiles. :(

Dunno if she ever realized it was me. Sure hope not.

(First post here.)
(giveuptheghost, Wed 1 Jun 2005, 0:36, Reply)

On the receiving end
Where I work I'm one of the union reps and have regular meetings with management about conditions, pay etc. My opposite numbers will always swap a few emails about pre-meeting strategy; I guess as stressed, busy executives they can't find the time to meet in person.

The beauty of this setup is that the first 5 letters of my surname are the same as the Head of HR.

Rather like the codebreakers at Bletchley Park in WWII, there's only so much I can do with the information that comes my way or they might twig. Needless to say, my colleagues and I prefer to actually talk to each other, and we never put in an email anything we wouldn't be happy to put up on a notice board.
(lolwhites, Wed 1 Jun 2005, 0:10, Reply)

"I know it's been three years....
...but I still love you dammit! Why can't you just get that into your thick skull?"

To my ex-boyfriend of course. I typed it in on a messenger service, because I really needed to just get it off my chest. He was whining about what having put on weight and being completely unattractive. I was half drunk and really meant to hit 'backspace'. 'Backspace' my arse. He was shocked, to say the least, and I doubt if at all impressed. Sent to the right person, but at the worst moment possible.

We still speak to eachother, but that particular confession is avoided at all costs. A year later, I'm still not over it. Life's tough, isn't it?
(s_nails, Tue 31 May 2005, 21:55, Reply)

Apologies for length, breadth and girth
At my old workplace I was required as part of my IT roll to drive the bosses wife to a house of an employee who had been at our company for a few days. She hadn't shown in for work, no calls and wouldn't answer her phone. Turns out she had yet another attempt to take her life, filling herself full of pills.

We pick her up and take her to the hospital. Needless to say the atmosphere was a little tense... just then a guy parked up on the left hand side of the road swung his door open and jumped out without checking to see if anyone was there. "ARE YOU BLOODY SUICIDAL" I shouted at the top of my voice shaking my fist before crawling backwards into my rectum.

She never did come back to work
( GeordieSteve, Tue 31 May 2005, 21:39, Reply)

Not relative
I discovered a few years ago that as Outlook allows white type, I could write certain paragraphs viz: 'Hi Barry, can you send me next week's portfolios? And you are a cock-muncher', as the white background hides the bit you've white-font'ed. Call it 'Russian email roulette', if that is your wont.

Imagine my surprise when during a bout of group emailing, one friend found our little secret by accident, joining in to reply 'Ooh, this is exciting, kind of like the Matrix.'

He was right. It was a netherworld.

It doesn't work if someone's not on outlook as *all* your text is converted to a bog-standard black font.

Wish I could relate a funny story about that though.

Apologies for lack of foreplay.
(Boris Webshite, Tue 31 May 2005, 21:00, Reply)