when I was working for the government
our office had a microwave, and a couple of the team, nice people though they were, came to me (because I was the union rep) and complained about the smell coming from the microwave...when people cooked foreign food. Like I say, they were basically good people, but I had trouble getting across to them that complaining to management that people are cooking stinky foreign muck might not be their best career move...

'um - I'd just say that you're getting an allergic reaction and you need to be moved.'
'yeah, but some of that food really stinks'
'yes...OK...but still'.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Mon 26 Mar 2007, 4:03, Reply)

Ya know like...
I would say im a clean person, shower nearly everday blah blah blah.

But at weekends i go out on a friday, get hammered go to bed at around 8am up for 1pm then to work for 8 hours. I finish work then its straight out of the door for a saturday night. Stumble home in the morning get virtually no sleep and get up for work again. Now because ive been 'dancing' and my job is pretty labour intensive i start to have this feeling where i know im not clean. Its just a feeling i get. Like i would put my hand down my pants absent mindedly, i do this a lot, then retreiving my hand id realise where its been and have to wash it because ball sweat is the worst sweat ever. My hair stinks of smoke, hands smell of lager/whiskey/red bull/smoke/white wine and maybe sometimes piss. My feet stink.

But the best bit is putting my finger down my belly button wriggling it about and smelling it. It smells badly weird, like you know its bad but you want to smell it again because you are curious. I also like getting the gunk out from inbetween my toes and having a sly whiff of that too.

I know other people do the toe thing because ive caught them at it. So im not THAT weird right?
(PieEater, Mon 26 Mar 2007, 3:33, Reply)

Bosses Half brother who still lives at home and creativley photographs shop fronts
John for that is his name is a smelly bastard. Now if you've ever had the fortune of mixing in horsey circles you'll know that there is a certain wiff... It's not hideous but something that should definatly be showered off of an evening.

John however has decided that along with being a 40 yearold 'photographer' and lives with his mum, has taken to the fact that whilst being perverted that laso means that he doesnt wash or shower...

He would come into work to do the photoshoots for the website and look books... when I was new at the company I walked into the board room, straight out into the design office to ask what the smell was... John was in the room... but I honestly think that it went over his head...

Oh he was a total dick... made my work experience girl cry, and charged 500 quid to do the website that had previously taken me 15 minutes.

freak mummies boy...

*names are easy to keep the same... (major highstreet brand though:P)
(feedingtimeatthezoo day 1 of his bikini diet started, Mon 26 Mar 2007, 3:24, Reply)

Shop of nerds
There was a local gaming shop near me, and it was quite good, and it was a local business that was owned by a nice couple. I continued going there quite a few weekends to grab a game or a magazine or whatever and play the demos they had set up on the consoles they had there and it was quite nice. It was good until you went upstairs on a saturday.

You see, saturday was the Warhammer 40K and Yugioh/Magic day, and in the room, nerds aged 10-25 hanged around in a horde playing these games. I had little more than a passing interest in those games. But these guys were fanatics, in that little cramped upstairs room, the older nerds were particularly rancid. At the best of times they smelt of sweat on sweat. They also seemed to wear the same old clothes, day after day. A popular favourite were flame-printed Hawaiian shirts that went forever unwashed. What is it with overweight smelly guys and Hawaiian shirts?

Anyway, I stopped going and eventually the place shut down. I can't help but think that those gamers made the place go out of business with their general antisocial smell and cliqueyness that would turn away most punters.
(I have a face also had a sig on, Mon 26 Mar 2007, 2:17, Reply)

Nasty Andrex Contamination
About ten years ago I went out for a while with this girl from my local pub. Not the most feminine woman I've ever dated, but reasonably attractive in a biker chick, grungy sort of way.

Anyway, after about three or four dates, we end up back at her place. After a quick coffee we decide to get down to business on the living room floor, but first she heads off to the loo to "get ready".

So, away we go, peeling off clothes etc on the floor. To get things really going I decide to partake in a bit of rug munching (which I am reasonably partial to). Well, the initial off-put was the unkempt nature of the bush I was required to traverse to gain entry. Oh well, I soldier on. After several minutes of bean flicking, I become aware of something in my mouth (honestly). I move it around in my mouth trying to work out what it is, and then sneakily gob it out into my hand to see what it is. A pleasant wodge of orange toilet paper. I glance up at chewbacca staring me in the face, and spot another half sheet of toilet paper protruding from chewies lips (it looks like he is smoking a roll up). Not knowing whether to burst out laughing or puke up, I carry on regardless, stoically swallowing the remaining toilet paper.

Having got over this, I carry on for another few minutes and then decide to go for the partial rimmer. At this stage things take a drastic turn for the worst as I then come across a second wodge of paper in her ass crack....

I had to get up and leave immediately. Highly unsavoury. She was obviously a scruncher rather than a folder in the papering department.
(Mandrill, Mon 26 Mar 2007, 1:45, Reply)

old people
stink of piss and take all the seats on the bus they all have facial hair and bladder problems. i hate them. i hate the smell of urine soaked grans with perfume that smells like horse semen i hate old men who smell like special, brew i want to cull them all and give there meat to starving africans. i also hate tramp's they have aids and live in boxes lucky buggers.
(branflakes, Sun 25 Mar 2007, 23:20, Reply)

Work colleagues....
Can smell pretty bad.

There's a guy at my office who is the reincarnation of Stig of the Dump (Google him people). He smells. His desk smells. His car smells. His house smells. It's not nice. He keeps a selection of pets in his house, including rabbits which roam around unimpeded shitting and sleeping where they please. Usually on him judging by his super-hairy jumpers and jeans.

Unfortunately, he sits next to the door to our office. So everyone coming in and out gets a waft. And because the office can be quite warm, he thoughtfully puts a fan on his desk in the summer so the smell can permeate further round the room. His car smelled so bad I was twice on the verge of being physically sick.

A less generous colleague than me stuck an air freshner on his desk one day - no reaction. Same colleague then put a 'Warning - Biohazard' sign under the windscreen wiper of Captain Stinky's car (okay, I admit I made the sign up for him). I would normally consider this behaviour quite obnoxious - but the smell counterbalances extreme tactics.

Complained to the boss about Captain Stinky, pointing out he always comes in wearing the same clothes. Boss does nothing.

EVENTUALLY work hand out nice corporate polo shirts for staff to wear, giving us a handful each. This is the boss at work, 'smartening up the staff' instead of telling Stinky to have a bath. Grinning and bearing the indignity of the 'would you like fries with that' effect of these tops most people start wearing them. Captain Stinky's are a size too small (and he ain't a Size 0), and on the occasions he wears them they get a few days continual wear. Except now there's no smelly jumper on top to partially deaden the directness of the stench. Great.

I need another job before this summer.
( MrCrisps Likes crisps but not Misters, Sun 25 Mar 2007, 22:53, Reply)

I went out with this girl once...
Back in college this girl I was taking a photo class with finally got me to take her out to a movie. So I go by her house and her and her sister who was still in high school come rushing out to my car. I found them both quite annoying instantly... they argued over mindless shit... but it was sorta fascinating at the same time. So I decided just to go with it out of morbid curiosity. We go to the movie and have a decent time, the arguing stops and I begin to think that the girl might be ok. So she invites me back to her house that she says her parents rent but don't live at. The girl was kinda cute and I thought hey why not!
I walk into her house and was instantly alarmed, because the house was unlocked when we got there. From the way the house looked it appeared to have just been broken into and trashed. "We gotta call the cops!" I say and start backing out pushing the girls back, thinking robbers might still be inside because I hear noises coming from inside. "No! Those are just the dogs," and the girls go inside.
The place looked like a tornado had blown through... every square inch of the place had stuff lying everywhere... dirty underwear... pictures fallen off the wall and broken... you could barely walk through the place. They had a small herd of 4 chihuahuas that ran all over the place and obviously pissed all over the place because of the smell. It was amazing and I had to explore further... out of morbid curiosity yet again. The girls run into the kitchen and start taking their meds, which I recognized as anti psychotics... as if I didn't have enough red flags popping up. The girls start quarreling about something again and I say I really must get going, oh look at the time! type of thing... when the older girl asks me to go to her room in the basement. So I go downstairs and like the upstairs it is a total wreck. Her room had water on the floor and a fan to dry it up, but it reeked of mildew (which I personally think caused them both to be crazy as hell, it was rotting their brains). I'm looking around and she is doing something under the crusty looking sheets of her bed and I note her jeans are on the ground. "Yeah... I gotta go..." and I leave the room to find the sister lurking outside. Luckily this was just after classes were over and I never saw her again. So about a year or two later, I'm talking with a few guys about crazy girls we have been out with and I'm telling this story and one of the guys goes... "Dude, was that girl named Rebecca? Because... I went out with her once and what you said is almost exactly word for word the same!" I start laughing and ask if he actually stayed and did the deed with her and he says, "Oh god no way! But I did see something that you didn't... she actually got everything off while my back was turned as I was looking through her CD's and she had this gigantic 70's style crotch bush. I told her crazy ass to put some clothes on and left! And her sister was right outside too!"
(TribeDoktor, Sun 25 Mar 2007, 22:44, Reply)

Punters
As a student nurse in the early 90s, I had to do an 8 week placement as a "proper" nurse, on a general medical ward. It was wank, they hated us Psychiatric nurses, we hated them. (Nothing changes). Anyhow, a few incidents spring to mind.
1) Asian guy admitted, was in a 6 bedded side ward. Now, I like spicy, foreign food (probably too much), but whatever this guy's relatives bought him to eat was just stinky. Every day they would visit him with loads of tupperware containers brimming with curries etc which reeked, and upset the other 5 guys who's stomachs were a bit dodgy. Not sure what the solution was - side room maybe ?
2) guy admitted with ulcers on both legs. Now these things reek of rotting meat (cos thats what they are). But these werent just holes (and Ive seen some on bums you could put a child's fist into). These looked like someone had taked a potato peeler around his legs from just above his ankles to about 4" higher. He was a lovely bloke but he was in a side room and the smell made th ewhole ward smell.
3) 24hour Faecal fat collection - sounds as good as it smells. Basically, ever bit of crap passed by a patient over 24 hours is stored in a bucket, in the dirty sluice. Now, because its being collected there is obvioulsy something wrong and this one lady was passing grey putty like shit. And because it kept getting contaminted (with wee I think) we had to keep re starting it - again the whole ward stank.
4) Psycho-Geriatrics (ie Dementia/Alzheimers). Wicked disease, cruel for not just the sufferer but the whole family and friends. Also leads to incontinence. Worst shift was December 25th Night shift - patients have had full Xmas lunch, relatives have pumped 'em full of chocolates, sweets, alcohol...and its all going to come out. Christ I fuckin MINGED that morning. And we had a guy die (a blessing for all concerened) too on that shift. I had to make the 'phone call to his wife - happy fuckin Xmas :-(
Now I work with psychosis, which tends to lead to poor hygiene (apathy etc) - Id rather have BO and faggy breath than fingers covered in shit - trust me gloves aint that good.

There are more !
(kitescreech still here, Sun 25 Mar 2007, 22:35, Reply)

Ahh memories...
My GCSE English teacher smelt so vile that the best way to tell if he was coming towards you was simply by breathing in.

Ironically, his name was Mold.
(adserfadge, Sun 25 Mar 2007, 21:44, Reply)

skids
At my infant's school in South Wales we had a kid who stank, obviously not his fault but his parents the poor sod, and so he shall remain nameless (Robert Flu). One day in the school yard he obviously had the shits and couldn't make the khazi, for the scene he created was something extraordinary. I still have the vision of RF sitting in his own crap, head bowed, trousers around ankles and behind him a skid about 40 feet long and almost the entire length of the school yard.

Why he pulled his kecks down and how he accomplished such a feat still escapes me. He left the school soon after, if anybody knows his whereabouts please give him my love. I often think I must be walking in his footsteps when I enter public toilets and see the occasional khazi cubicle covered in cack from ceiling to walls to floor. It is possible to do this in one sitting, I’ve seen Fluey in action and now at an age about 40, his colon must be now 5 times the capacity.
(Monkey Festerer, Sun 25 Mar 2007, 20:47, Reply)

dentist
working in a dentists in very close proximity with the general public, we do come across many skuzzy wankers who cant be arsed to spend a $ on a toothbrush
But as staff we keep ourselves sweet
That is apart from our principle dentist, who only sees private patients, and has the worst BO and breath I have ever EVER come across
You know where he has been, and you can smell him before you see him, as the week goes on, he seems to just add a bit of lynx rather than bathe! Rank as hell, and still people pay shit loads of money, to have a foul smelling (and slightly perverse) man mess around in their mouth!
Rich people are weird!
(kellogg going slowly insane, Sun 25 Mar 2007, 20:13, Reply)

scratchings
My friend's flatmate used to eat her head scratchings.
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Sun 25 Mar 2007, 20:09, Reply)

I've also lived with a Martin (well it was spelled Maarten)
He must have been rotting away from the inside out, he used to produce the most foul smelling turds you could imagine. This was a big house and it would stink up the entire house. As this only happened about once every few weeks to a month (and because he was also pretty weird) my theory is that he used to insert animals into his rectum and let them decompose for a month.
(mmm....beer, Sun 25 Mar 2007, 19:13, Reply)

Piss Stinking Irishmen
The summer of 1990, and a student household (mine) in Plaistow, London E13, is getting ready for a summer of crap jobs and being skint. Except Lyn H. decides she's offski for summer and puts a notice up in the Student Union - 'summer room blah blah blah'. Some Irish bloke comes round, says he'll have for a couple of lads coming over, doing bricky work. Fair nuff.

Cut a long story short, a couple becoime three or four plus a couple of their g/fs, all in the front room, nicking our milk and generally being cunts. (We tried to be nice.) So I pissed all over their towels. :)

SO - if you're prob mid/late 30s now, spent Summer '90 at 45 Gwendoline Avenue E13, come from Cork, have a fat cunt mate called Ken and a long haired mate called Barry I think, I pissed all over your gear which you then used and were that fucking rank you didn't notice you stank of piss, fuck you all. hahahahaaa
( Fathter Puddytat Kill Kill dat widdle boid is mine on, Sun 25 Mar 2007, 18:51, Reply)

Wargames smell!
Thats the smell of Testosterone and ...and ...VICTORY
Bwahahahahahahahahaha
(kitescreech still here, Sun 25 Mar 2007, 18:43, Reply)

Link
Not to advertise the opposition or anything, bu this on Somethingwaful.com covers a lot of this stinky territory
www.somethingawful.com/d/comedy-goldmine/disgusting-sights-walmart.php?page=1

Enjoy !
(kitescreech still here, Sun 25 Mar 2007, 18:42, Reply)

Blue Star: There is a special pheremone that geek boys emit
especially when playing war games (ie Babylon 5, 40K, or that endless one with hexagons)

I always assumed Games Workshop smelled because of unwashed teenage boys, but the following episode proved otherwise.

Both Lex and Mark had had a shower (one each, they didn't share or anything) and spent the rest of the morning playing some long winded strategy game. A couple of hours later, they'd not finished the setting up stage, but man did that room stink!

proof if proof be need be
( Citizen Cavy Admires your passion for conformity, Sun 25 Mar 2007, 18:37, Reply)

For The Benefit of Mr Kite
A similar thing happened to me many years ago with the then Mrs Onefishtwofish - Unfortunately, the sight that struck my eyes when they were very close to her ladygarden was indicative of lack of use of toilet paper after a serious and clearly runny poo. Oh dear.
(onefishtwofish Redfishbluefish, Sun 25 Mar 2007, 17:42, Reply)

Jeans...
...Last washed in November I think. Covered in doodles now, not to mention various other things. Might crack and wash them soon as they got covered in goose shit the other day when I went to the park and fed the birds dressed up as a mummy.
(spangledonkey I've got a mouse. His name is Gerald., Sun 25 Mar 2007, 17:38, Reply)

My mate and I took a train ride from Krakow to Warsaw.
The train was crowded. Facing towards us was a bloke who spent the whole journey ostentatiously picking his nose. We didn't dare try to move to another carriage in case there weren't any seats.

Dirty bastard. Nobody else seemed arsed, either - equally dirty Polish bastards.
(Juan Quar is clinging to her front teeth on, Sun 25 Mar 2007, 17:07, Reply)

I worked in Forbidden Planet
for a few years. I can never forget the smell of geek - its a cross between BO, that butter smell and dried spunk.

Geek boys, its NOT an attractive smell, use some Lynx or something and have a fucking wash!

Being one of two girls who worked in that shop it was amazing how many geek boys tried chatting us up whilst buying 'Star Trek Fact File' - one in particular seemed proud of the fact that he had been thrown out of one of Coventry's more upmarket cafe bars because someone had complained about his smell. He makes my skin crawl even now......

*shudders*

So remember geek boys, a quick spray of deodorant, a brush of the teeth and a change of clothes and you could look almost human*

*of course my blokie is a clean geek :)
( Blue Star was working part time at the 5 and Dime, Sun 25 Mar 2007, 16:29, Reply)

Just now
I've had to sit in a bath of petrol and chisel my pants off.
(Chickenwire social lubricator extraordinaire, Sun 25 Mar 2007, 16:10, Reply)

cleanish?
I used to shower a few times a day much to the amusement of friends however, I used to put my clothes on for the following day just before I went to bed as I am very lazy not dirty.
(Dingo21 killing hippos on, Sun 25 Mar 2007, 16:08, Reply)

I'm not so bad like
I'm a student so I reckon a lot of this is obligatory. Only considered posting this because someone mentioned a bottle of piss, and there is a frosty jacks bottle half full next to me, on the floor but that only happened yesterday because I needed a piss and my housemate was showering. Usually I'd go out the window but it was broad daylight. At least it has the lid on yeh?

To my left, within reaching distance if I lean,is a bottle. It is a 35cl Prince Consort London Gin bottle and it is roughly 40% full of roach ends, ash, spit and phlegm. This has no lid but has a low centre of gravity and a sturdy base so I'm not too worried. There is also a dregs/ash filled can to my left, which I can reach without leaning, hence its replacement of the gin bottle for now.

My bed sheets have been washed since christmas, but I fell asleep with chewing gum behind my ear the other morning so one side of one of the pillows has a bit of a chud stain. Got rid of all the sticky bits though.

I haven't showered since tuesday morning. It's now sunday but I probably will today. I have short hair and this isn't regular practise, I'm usually a once every 2 days kinda guy.

Under my bed lies a santa hat with about 4 shots of spunk inseminated into it. Again this isn't regular practise, its just still there incase I get caught short again. Sensible.

I wear socks for two days on the trot MAX as they smell too bad after that. Boxers should last 4 days (regular, reversed, inside-out regular, inside-out reversed) but in reality it is easy to lose count, as well you know. Jeans, tops and coats need only be washed if something has gone seriously wrong.

Haven't used soap since I was about 4, only wash me hands after a piss if I actually got piss on my hands (c'mon, if blokes had to wash their hands after every time they held their cocks the world economy would crumble.) I use shampoo mind, trim the pubes and armpits and sometimes even use roll-on deodorant, so on balance I'm not really smelly. (Thing is, I understand that maybe I should smell, so I've asked quite a lot of people. Pretty blunt people at that, and I've still got a 100% 'you smell fine/you dont have halitosis' rate.)

My piece de resistance was probably in the first year of uni, when I had a nose-bleed so vile that the resulting blood clot couldn't find its way down the plug hole. Naturally I fished it out with one of those ear-cleaners and put it in a bottle. This was left on my top shelf and forgotten about until the end of the year, when I was tidying up. By now it was no longer thick and red, but was the colour of a guiness-shit and very, very thin. Wanting to save space in the bin bag, I loosened the top a little and squeezed out the excess air. Unfortunately I chose to continue breathing, and was hit full in the face with the stench of my own rotting body. There is no way I could possibly describe this smell, but if you're familiar with anything similar you'll know that I painted my carpet a nice shade of stomach instantly.

ANECDOTE:
Me and some mates went out to spain last summer to work on an eco-farm, all very hippy-esque. There was a toilet outside in the woods, or the toilet inside which was for passing solids ONLY. Neither flushed, and both involved shitting then putting hay on top.

My mate not only disregarded the no pissing rule, but also used the inside toilet for the three days he suffered from chronic dioreah. Because of how gross this toilet was, we left it as long as possible before cleaning it out. Me and mate 2 drew the short straws, and got to work.

Cleaning this toilet out involved opening a cupboard-like door on the front, sliding the bucket of shit out and taking this to a compost heap about 100metres from the house. Due to it being very full, and full of the liquidiest, vilest dihoretic shit known to man, we failed even to slide the flimsy bucket out from its base, and this shit slopped out onto the floor. Now, during a spanish summer, this room already smelled pretty awful. I had as of yet refused to even use it, instead prefering to head outside at all hours of the night to do my business. I lasted about 30 seconds after the initial spillage before vomiting in the sink. Only, typically, this sink wasn't even plumbed in, and the vom just poured through the plughole and out onto the floor. We fled the room, but there was still a job to be done.

T-shirts were tied round our faces and we headed in, picked up the bucket, and steadily this time carted it to the compost heap. When we got it there we didn't know how to empty it without getting covered in shite, so we put it near the heap and levered it over with big sticks.

Ready for the gross bit? As soon as it poured out, Chica, a dumb dog who was living on the farm, ran over and started lapping it up! This made me puke again, this time into the shit, while my mate used his stick to chase the dog off (mainly just because he hated the dog, but partly so it didn't die I guess.)

Dogs have the worst hygiene record ever.
(Daveh, Sun 25 Mar 2007, 15:24, Reply)

If you had sat next to man reeking of piss on an international fligth that migth be me,sorry.
I´d had a couple of pints at the airport bar and already at boarding the plane I was starting to get a bit in need of a toilet. I found my seat and waited patiently for the plane to get in the air.Unfortunatly ,when the seatbeltsign turned off ,five others rushed in front of me and created a line in front of the toilet. When my turn finally came my bleather was about to burst and I was tappdancing violently.Then suddenly a flightattendence pushed me away and locked herself into the toilet.I couldnt for the love of god hold it back any longer and felt a steady stream of piss down my legs.I was luckily wearing dark pants and all I could do was to wait for my turn,try to dry my pants on the airdryer and go back to my seat as nothing had happend. This was a three-hour fligth and I feel really sorry for the peoples sitting next to me on the plane.I pretended I was mentally retarded for the rest of the fligth.
(frankling, Sun 25 Mar 2007, 14:50, Reply)

Minge-harad
I lived in a student halls with a girl who despite coming from a very privileged (I have tons ISAs, fwar fwar) background was a complete scuzzbucket as far as cleaning was concerned.

Her room was only hoovered three times in the entire three years she lived there and that was only because the cleaner did it in the holidays, where it would take a good hour to get all the matted hair up *gag*

Her room always smelled of germolene too (as that was the extent of her beauty regime from what we could gather).

When she did her dissertation, she built a veritable fort of pizza boxes, rubbish and washing. She refused all offers of anyone taking some rubbish down for her but this filth gradually flitered to her personal hygiene. She once wore the same jeans everyday for about two weeks. We even pointed out just how minging this was but nothing would part her from those jeans. Only eventual sandblasting I suspect.

She never used to cook either. She just used to hang around until someone else fed her (no mean feat). I once slapped her hadn for trying to stick it in the chocolate I was melting. I didn't want no grubby germolene hands in my ondue, oh no!

Please post a QOTW about weirdo housemates! I can tell you how she didn't know what her foof was till she was ten!
(Medibot, Sun 25 Mar 2007, 14:37, Reply)

Skankiness.
Where to begin?

Up north, that’s where. Working in a welfare rights place during the 80s on a government scheme I had a colleague whose very left wing politics seemed to include the theory that you didn’t need to wash yourself or your clothes (perhaps he was waiting until Labour got back in, in which case there was another 12 years or so to go.) His unmistakeable scent spread to his chair which, as it was next to a window, would hum revoltingly disseminating the unmistakeable stench of sweaty unwashed arse around the office. Trouble was he was a lovely bloke. I left before he did and wonder how long he went on smelling before anyone said anything.

Also up North, though not me but a friend. He got on to a bus with his mother who having become aware of an eye-watering smell announced to her son (my friend) 'Someone's got a cheese and onion pastie on here. It stinks. Fancy having one on a bus, it stinks of onions,' and so on and so on. Friend tried to shush her realising that it was not, in fact, the scent of pastie but rather the putrid, onion-flavoured aroma of hot, un-deoderized armpit. When quietly told this she wasn't in the least bit sorry and instead made loud remarks about dirty people which Friend wondered if he could squeeze himself out the miniscule gap between the window and the metalwork of the bus's bodywork.

My ex-boyfriend left me for a GIRL in another flat in the same building. She kept dead finches (she never fed anything she had as a pet except her cat and she used to kick that) in her wardrobe and dead mice in her filthy kitchen. She lived in that flat for over a year and didn’t change her bed sheet once during that time. It was rank, truly. He chose her over me and slept in that bed with that skanky cow. He was welcome to her.

A lady who works where I work now has a monthly problem where she smells of wee. This isn’t just any old wee - it’s ripe, matured, quality wee. Some of the girls suspect that this may be due to the infrequency of sanitary applications, about which I know very little. Her office has no ventilation as the only window in it is barred and permanently closed, plus she likes to have the heat on a great deal. Also I have to avert my eyes when she’s eating. To see her devour a scotch egg is to gaze into the maw of hell. Oh, and her pens are full of dribble - almost to a level where you could make one of those novelty pens where a boat or fish swims in a clear window from it - and any newcomer is warned to take their own pen with them should they have to go to the office for anything. I have flicked cold spittle from one up my arm in the past which was pretty revolting, but even that paled into insignificance when I absent-mindedly put one into my mouth. I thought I was going to throw up. Telling the horrific story later I almost made a colleague hurl. God knows what visitors think.

The Boss had to have a “word” with a customer who honked after complaints from the staff and customers (and bravely did so in his small office - he left the window open all afternoon afterwards, despite the arctic weather). He seems to have cleaned himself up and visits less (he would just come in and read, never buy anything) but one can only sympathise with poor Boss because now this man seems to think they’re mates and will corner him for long and boring chats.

Not as revolting as some, but I think they bear telling. There are more but they don’t come immediately to mind. If I remember them in time I’ll post about them.
(singingringingtree Living in the past., Sun 25 Mar 2007, 14:06, Reply)