Many moons ago..
I used to ride to and from work, (about 7 miles according to Google maps), straight along the coast road.
It was long, straight and boring but every now and then with a tail wind you could really fly along. I did the trip several time in less than 20 minutes.

Until one day.

I was found on the floor just over a mile from home. Laying unconsciousness in the gutter. My face shredded and surrounded by broken glass, my bike broken clean in two. This was about 12 years ago and I still have no recollection of what happened.
I needed 54 stitches, lost a few teeth, LOTS of blood, and plenty of cuts, bruises and was general fucked up for a couple of weeks or so.
Not to be big headed but I was fairly handy on my bike. I could wheelie forever, stoppie all day and rode everyday for fun as well as commuting, so I never accepted the 'you hit someone' theory.
That being said, who ever hit me must have known they did so, I smashed one of their windows!
They're still out there somewhere too.
( Mr.Pickle Is not big or clever.., Sat 18 Feb 2012, 19:03, 39 replies)

When I was about 5 or 6...
a friend and I snuck into the year 5 cloakroom, and stole some guy's coat. We then took it to the corner of the playground and threw it in a massive muddy puddle and jumped up and down on it.

I don't know why we did it - I barely even remember doing it - but it was certainly my earliest memory of twuntcakery.
( guffguff fuckes your gradeds balls!, Sat 18 Feb 2012, 17:49, 1 reply)

An acquaintance's father
Is a former royal marine. Whenever somebody irritates him, he doesn't do anything. But he writes down their details in a little book he carries with him.

18 months later, to the day, he goes round their house and slashes their tires.
( MatJ LOOK, Sat 18 Feb 2012, 15:35, 23 replies)

Me and my brother
once heated up the call lift button in a nearby block of flats with a wind-proof lighter. He kept lookout at the entrance while I got the metal button red hot, then when some poor unfortunate soul approached we ran and hid up the stairs a little.
(TheManWithThePlan cussed your mum on, Sat 18 Feb 2012, 14:54, Reply)

If I see someone get in a lift
and I am heading in the appropriate direction, I have been known to peg it up/downstairs and hit the call button on every floor. If we are heading to the same destination I will tend to arrive about ten minutes ahead of them this way.
(Captain Skippy pooed in a bag and left it on your doorstep, Sat 18 Feb 2012, 13:32, Reply)

In my yoof my brother could be quite mean at times
Things that my brother has done to me in the name of his own 'amusement'.

1) Performed a wrestling move called a 'Pile driver' onto the thinly carpeted floor in our room.

2) Told me that if I banged my head against the wall I'd become smarter and then left me there doing so for over half an hour

3) Told me we were playing hide and seek in the woods in Freshfield Red Squirrel reserve and promptly went back to the caravan we were staying in. I'm still not sure how many hours I spent 'hiding'.

More as I think about them.
( Funkenschlag still likes dogs more than cats, Sat 18 Feb 2012, 13:27, 2 replies)

I have difficulty in not pushing people into lakes, streams, ponds, etc. when I know I can get away with it
I don't mean people I know, I mean strangers, which was an unfortunate trait to have when I used to work near London Zoo and its nearby canal. Sometimes I'd consciously go down there just to see if I could find a tiny window of time and space where I could push some unsuspecting stranger into the mirky waters for my own amusement.

Over the years this has involved men, women (though never their prams), many joggers, 'youths' and their bikes - even the odd dog.

I was never caught or hurt doing this, perhaps why I kept on doing it.

I grew out of this phase, but then again, every so often I do still get the urge...
(Chopper3, Sat 18 Feb 2012, 10:24, 13 replies)

Summer, 1981
and I am 14. My parents, being both middle-class and desperate to have time apart from me, send me on a PGL camp for a week. Back then, there were less lawsuits flying around, so one of the activities was 'orienteering' otherwise known as 'dump the kids 5 miles away from the camp, give them a map, have the afternoon off and they can find their own way home'.

So, in groups of four or five we were scattered around the Yorkshire countryside with maps and compasses and left to our own devices.

It was one of those summer days that one looks back to - youth, the golden countryside, aimless conversations, no rush to get back, a stick in the hand to swat idly at the vegetation. We meandered and dithered and found a spot to eat our sandwiches.

As we came up a small rise in the path, we saw an old shed in the middle of a field. Abandoned but intact, someone years ago had put it there for some forgotten reason.

I don't know who threw the first stone; wordlessly we gathered whatever ammunition we could find, our youthful energies spent hurling heavy objects onto the tiled roof. In a matter of moments, drawn together by some unsaid pact, we demolished it; and then went on our way as if nothing had happened, whatever urges of frustration and anger within the teenage psyche mollified, for a while, in what we had done.
(TheImmortalJenkins, Sat 18 Feb 2012, 10:03, Reply)

You say "Evil," I say "Vigilanteism..."
I was a nice kid in elementary school, but one year (I was 8) our class of 30 had this kid who was really big for his age and a real punk.

The school was all out at recess, and the bell sounds to go back in. On my way back, I notice three things:
1) a little orange cone
2) a sprinkler head
3) tall kid probably returning from an act of malice, but still a ways off.

Inspiration strikes. A moment later, I call out to him, "Hey Mike! You think you're so cool but I bet you can't kick this little cone more than two feet!"

The challenge is issued -- our eyes lock for a second, and then he hollers, "oh yeah!?" and gets a running start. 15 meters, 10, 5, he's at the cone, he kicks the cone, and the cone... stays there. Mike, however, does not. He goes flying, falling, rolling, swearing, and everyone laughs. One of the old ladies watching us has no idea what happened, my guilt still cleverly hidden under the orange cone. I walked off, quite pleased with myself, and that's that.

Of course, this is the same kid who angrily insisted that the blue marker was purple and who could fart on command, and ended up getting held back a year and eventually kicked out of the school... But at that age, I had no concept of guilt so it's all gravy.
( CTVadim Eeeeasing back into it., Sat 18 Feb 2012, 0:41, 2 replies)

Perfect photo opportunity, spoiled
I'd just arrived at famed Yellowstone Park, but I was fatigued from hours of driving and not terribly alert. I was walking across a parking lot to the Visitor's Center and noticed a small commotion to my right. Tourists on a wooden porch were leaning forward across a railing and raising their cameras to their faces. They were preparing to photograph - something - but it was unclear what. I kept walking forward, but kept looking back at the tourists.

I finally turned back around, and stopped. There I was, barely six inches from the enormous face of a buffalo! The buffalo didn't react: he was as surprised as I was by this abrupt confrontation. I looked around and finally noticed buffalo were grazing all around the parking lot. I looked back at the tourists, and could sense their disappointment as they lowered their cameras. Despite their efforts to avoid alerting me, a spectacular goring was foiled.

Bastards!
(Perv With A Dog had his eyes pecked out by scrub jays on, Sat 18 Feb 2012, 0:12, 3 replies)

Playing with a 'spergie
I do like pissing people off a bit occasionally - things like flashing lights on and off when my flatmates are trying to take a shit, hiding in the dark to quietly say "boo", or simply creeping up behind people and grabbing their shoulders. However, nothing was quite so dickish as what I did back in my first year of Uni.

A bunch of us had gone to Portobello beach in Edinburgh one summer's day, but had gotten on the wrong bus to get back home so ended up in the middle of fuck-knows-where. Eventually we got back to the town centre and were waiting for a bus to take us back to our halls. One bus came along, though wasn't the correct one. On the spur of the moment, I got on the bus and told one of the group members who had Asperger's that it was the bus we were to get. After she got on and the doors were about to close I got off again and started to cackle at my mischief as the bus went to take her well away again.

Fortunately for her, someone else shouted at the bus to stop. I have no idea what possessed me to do such a thing.

---

Unrelated dickishness: Whilst playing with fruit with my ex, I told her that I had lost a grape in her clunge. She weren't best pleased.

Heheheh
( clockworkrat has nice pants, Fri 17 Feb 2012, 23:46, 2 replies)

I was walking down the street the other day
when I massacred an entire race of people.
( PMGT -Bacon., Fri 17 Feb 2012, 23:31, 1 reply)

TV-AM
Not sure if this is random as it was pre-meditated but....

Many moons ago, before Daybreak and before even GM-TV, there was the breakfast show ratings heavyweight that was TV-AM. This was the show that gave us Anne Diamond and Nick Owen, Ulrika-ka-ka Jonsson doing the weather before she hooked up with Vic and Bob, and for reasons that nobody has entirely explained - the mystifyingly popular puppet rat called Roland.

They also gave us Wacaday and Timmy Mallett.

My brother worked for a security firm and the owner of TV-AM, Bruce Gyngell, hired them when he was having trouble with the unions over some deal or other and they had to sweep his offices for bugs and upgrade the building security. As a result my brother had the keys to all the doors.

Because of the nature of the show it started in the early morning and my brother had to be there every day before everyone else and so he saw all the presenters arrive. Which means he spent a goodly amount of time perving over Michaela Strachan. But for every up there's the inevitable down and TV-AM's down came in the form of the arrival of Timmy Mallet, the relentlessly chirpy twat of foam-hammer fame.

Timmy used to cycle to the TV-AM studios every day and would usually coast into reception on his bicycle and announce his annoying presence to all and sundry. His ride was exquisitely timed such that his presence would trigger the infra-red detector and the plate glass doors would slide open so he could cruise in without a pause.

So one morning my brother locked the doors....
(Dildo Bugger destroyed a ring on, Fri 17 Feb 2012, 22:04, 1 reply)

I saw this bloke let his dog get run over by a bus today. The evil prick didnt even give a shit. He just stood there trying to look cool in his sunglasses.
( enoughblueskyforsailorstrousers, Fri 17 Feb 2012, 21:31, 3 replies)

Getting twatted by a total stranger.
Looking at previous posts, I'm not the only one this has happened to.
Anyway, a few years back I was putting some songs on the jukebox when some passing cuntbubble thought it would be spiffing fun to smack me forcefully across the back of the head with a rolled up umbrella.
He seemed a bit surprised when I span round and called him a cunt.
I came very close to taking a swing at him. (Which would have ended badly as I suck at applied violence and he was a big lad)
Afterwards I heard him complaining that I hadn't seen the funny side.
Wanker.
(Big D, Fri 17 Feb 2012, 21:01, 1 reply)

gnikoms
Several years ago, my brother had a courier job and often had to do an overnight run of about 400 miles round. One night through sheer boredom I went along.

We both smoked then and many cigarettes were consumed. We fell into a little routine of me lighting up two and passing one over to him. Have you guessed yet?

Yes, I must have been passing them the same way all night but around the second tab of the return leg, I must have passed one the other way and he stuck the hot end straight in. Thank fuck the motorway was empty as the tan was all over the place while he was freaking out with glowing embers showering from his scorched suckeroo.

I swore that it was an accident and I was only pissing myself laughing because of his reaction...
(Greencloud Wanted to go fishing on, Fri 17 Feb 2012, 20:22, 1 reply)

6th form, at Grammar School.
The school had recently gone from 13+ to 11+ intake, and the new students seemed to be getting a lot of money spent on them (they had the use of the schools new mac network, we had to make do with the crappy old RM terminals, that sort of thing).
Mooching around one lunchtime, and a trio of the anklebiters go tearing past us. In a fit of especially childish pique, I stick out my foot to trip the last one to pass. Trip he does, followed by a flawless forward roll that leads him back to a running finish. Didn't even break his stride.
My one attempt to bully someone for the heinous crime of being smaller than myself, and I pick on the boy wonder.
( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Fri 17 Feb 2012, 19:53, 3 replies)

another one about my dad
when your 8-year-old daughter has just had major eye surgery and will, effectively, be blind for the next 2 weeks, rearranging her bedroom furniture while she's asleep is NOT FUCKING FUNNY
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Fri 17 Feb 2012, 19:52, 12 replies)

When I was young, my mate's Dad used to let us help with the shopping.
He didn't like having to take his son's mate home much, and he hated shopping with kids even more.
So he'd give us a split-down list, and off we'd happily go. Being youngish, we felt giddy with responsibility.*

The thing is though, we'd never find what he sent us for.

To whit:

6 pack Crunchy Owl bars,
1/2lb Stewed rat (Chopped),
3 bottles of starlight (Extra-bright)
6 Asparagus Steaks


I was well into my twenties before I realised what the cunning bastard was doing.

*This was in the days before we knew that there was a paedophile lurking around every corner, hiding in the £1 DVD bin.
(universalpsykopath loves what you've done with your hair., Fri 17 Feb 2012, 19:20, 3 replies)

gottle o' geer
about 10 years ago, i was invited to a friend's birthday party in his local pub. i'd never been there before, but he assured me it was a decent boozer. i don't live in the area, so didn't know anybody there and was feeling a little self-conscious. the fact that it was a fancy dress party and i was done up as a viking, horned hat and all, didn't help.
when i got to the pub, i decided to have a quick smoke outside and steel my nerves before walking in there. as everyone else he'd invited was local, i had had to go alone.
as i stood outside, 2 men walked out. they seemed perfectly normal, not exactly pissed, probably had a swift couple after work.
however, as they were walking past me, one of them finished his bottle of budweiser. instead of disposing of it correctly, he decided to twat me full force over the head with the fucking thing.
it hurt. it hurt a LOT. seriosly, if it hadn't been for that damn plastic helmet i was wearing taking some of the force of the blow, i truly believe i'd have spent the night in hospital -or worse, the morgue- because of that total fuckwitted snatchpipe.
after staggering around for a couple of minutes and gradually regaining such things as balance, senses, eyesight and composure, i went inside to tell my friend what had happened. nobody knew who the two men were(or if they did, they weren't telling) and, of course, the CCTV was broken. to this day i have no idea who they were or why one of them decided to try a bit of impromptu street surgery on my noggin.
i guess some people are just cunts.
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Fri 17 Feb 2012, 19:05, 5 replies)

I one posted a Text On A Picture image on /board.
Using comic sans. In bmp format.
( Amorous Badger NAKED BEA ARTHUR PHOTOS 4U, Fri 17 Feb 2012, 18:50, 4 replies)

I told my little brother...
that however fast you run at automatic doors they will always open before you reach them
(teebie jeebie, Fri 17 Feb 2012, 17:01, 2 replies)

Now I know there was an "up" around here somewhere
Aged about 7, I'm having swimming lessons in the local pool. I've stopped using armbands, and I'm practicing by swimming across the width of the pool at the shallow end. There's a couple of girls sitting on the edge; I notice them because one has her legs dangling in the water in front of me, and lifts them up as I struggle along, to make room for me to pass.

Or at least that's what I assumed. In fact she was simply preparing to give me a massive push straight downwards as I passed underneath her.

I remember quite clearly the sensation of complete disorientation: I had no idea at all which way was up. All I could see was bluish blurs and bubbles flowing in all directions. I seemed to be down there for ages, long enough to panic and think that I was about to drown. Thankfully I bobbed to the surface before too long - probably mere seconds, in reality - and was hauled out, coughing, spluttering and probably wailing like a anally-raped car alarm. The instructor had seen what happened, and while I was too scared and upset to pay much attention, I was dimly aware of a lot of shouting directed at my attempted murderer.

Actually that's one of two times in my life I've thought I might be about to drown - the other being caught in a vortex while whitewater rafting - and I can tell you that your life DOESN'T flash before your eyes. Sorry.
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Fri 17 Feb 2012, 16:48, 3 replies)

I was about 10 or 11 and riding my bike along the riverside,
when a big tall lad of at least 17 rode up alongside and asked to borrow my pump.
I did think it was odd as he was obviously riding on two good tyres but like a helpful young chap I obliged.
He took the metal pump and twatted me on the side of my head very fucking hard with it, then told me he was going to throw me in the river.

Clutching my head I asked what the hell he'd done that for.

"Cos I felt like it".

Then he gave me my pump back. It was too dented to use again.
( Infidel , shit and wrong, Fri 17 Feb 2012, 16:19, 1 reply)

Stockport Lazerquest on some works leaving do many many moons ago...
All the regular kids were legging it around kicking our arses, mocking our lack of familiarity with the game and generally acting like dicks. (By dicks I mean being better at the game than we were)

As one of the little fuckers ran past my mate Big Ginge after scoring another hit against him, Ginge saw the red mist (as Gingers are wont to do) and clotheslined him with his arm. I swear the kid almost did a backflip before landing on his arse clutching his chest.

As he was writhing on the floor we both got in a few free shots and melded into the shadows like ninjas. In Ginge's case a 6'4" Ginger Ninja.
( Airman Gabber Living life like a 70's BBC presenter, Fri 17 Feb 2012, 15:54, 1 reply)

QR Code terrorism
Haven't actually done this, but thought of it today.

1) Make QR code with URL of dubious website/Astley video/whatever
2) Print onto big stickers
3) Stick onto reputable companies' billboards/posters. Neatly. So it looks like part of the original (they always look a bit "dropped in last minute" anyway)
4) Hilarity ensues.

If anyone tries it, let me know how you get on.
( prince-igor si tacuisses, philosophus mansisses, Fri 17 Feb 2012, 15:36, 7 replies)

This guy that worked for me was a total dumbass.
Always trying to show his initiative, but always fucking it up. This one time he tried to surprise the rebels by coming out of light-speed to close, but it only alerted them to our presence.

So I killed him with my mind. Not entirely random, but I should've just demoted him or something.
(CactusZack Shaved his coin purse on, Fri 17 Feb 2012, 15:33, 2 replies)

Well there was the time...
When I made the mistake of going on /talk.
( dysonology "You get an 'ology', you're a scientist!", Fri 17 Feb 2012, 15:30, 3 replies)

I said there would be cake.
But I lied.
( The Incredible Sulk Finally remembered his password on, Fri 17 Feb 2012, 15:14, 1 reply)

Can you smell something?
When I were a lad, me and my mates always seemed to be exploring empty houses, factories etc. I guess people weren't as security-minded back then. One day, during one of these expeditions, a mate found a bottle of clear liquid. After smelling it, he offered it to me, saying "Ere, smell this, it's amazing!" So without thinking, I took a huge double lungful up my hooter. A massive, heroic snurf that would have cleared the table of not just my line, but everyone elses', in later life.

Unfortunately, the bottle contained pure, undiluted ammonia. I think I actually collapsed, as my nose screamed in agony and white and purple stars exploded in my brain. It was several minutes before I could see again, through the copious, streaming tears. To this day I have a very poor sense of smell, and I reckon this is why.

Not content with doing me in, he then dumped the ammonia by pouring it through the gap someone had inadvisedly left at the top of their car window.

Come to think of it, he was an utter shit.
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Fri 17 Feb 2012, 15:06, 6 replies)