I was stiffed by the man
When they wouldn't let me enter the hammer event of this years Olympics despite gaining recognition for my skill in the past.
Love
Peter Sutcliffe
(andythepieman Is surfing the waves of indifference on, Thu 9 Aug 2012, 10:30, 3 replies)

Been made redundant three times in the space of four years
So the man can line his pockets with more money.
( jakedamusss I understand, and dont care., Thu 9 Aug 2012, 6:16, Reply)

Being Verballed By The Filth
Young Ronnie was thought to have been a bit naughty, back in the dim and distant.

Actually it was self defence, and luckily the court agreed.

Still, being presented with a sworn statement from a copper just before the case kicked off to the effect that I'd said "Yes, it was me, I did it" was a bit of an eye-opener.

Especially as I'd taken full advantage of the old (and now departed) right to silence during the interview.

Cunts.
(Ronnie Spleen MMMMNEURRGH I AM A GAY SPAZ AND I LOVE IT UP MY BU, Thu 9 Aug 2012, 0:16, 18 replies)

Visual artists
I did several hours of free legal work for a guy I worked with who was being screwed over by a guy he had made several websites for. I researched the law and drafted several letters that he could send to the guy. He was elated! He said he would pay me $2,000 for my work.

I like to use my powers for good, so I told him I would be satisfied if he made a cool logo for my band. Win-win, right?

Time went by, he kept bringing up that he was "half way through" several designs and would have me take a look at his prototypes. This went on for 4 months. In the end, my contract ended with that company and I went on with life. He moved to California (with an aching in his heart) and made all sorts of money.

I still am logo less.
( BrokenCoccyx doesn't mind if you grope on, Wed 8 Aug 2012, 22:06, 10 replies)

Not my story but
www.guardian.co.uk/uk/2012/aug/08/olympics-spectator-parkinsons-arrest-smiling

Bloke is arrested for not smiling during the race.

"Worsfold, whose experience was first reported by Private Eye, claims police questioned him about his demeanour and why he had not been seen to be visibly enjoying the event. Worsfold, who was diagnosed with Parkinson's in 2010, suffers from muscle rigidity that affects his face."
( The Light in Chains don't touch the Pope's boner, Wed 8 Aug 2012, 16:24, 11 replies)

I bought this telly once...
...that started spewing out lizards.

Repair man said it was nothing to do with him and I should sort it out myself.

Cunt.
(DefinitelyNOTAmorousBadgerOhNo, Wed 8 Aug 2012, 16:23, 9 replies)

Gordon Brown.
Screwed over an entire country.
(ParaSitius is an Optimistic Pessimist, Wed 8 Aug 2012, 13:52, 24 replies)

Local Council has done us. Official! (bad grammer on porpoise)
Where we live all the roads, (must have cost millions to re-tarmac), were resurfaced. Many of them, including ours really didn't need doing (do you know most councils have a 90 year road surface replacement strategy!)

I dont know how they got the contract, but locally, all our roads have been dug up by lovely Irish gentlemen to lay new gas lines.

As a tax payer, and a road user I couldn't possibly comment on who arranged this.

But I can comment on the stupid roadworkers hammering away the one morning I can take to have a lay in!

Screwed over by the council, they must know major gas works are going to be going ahead, its not a little leak, its several streets. So noise, and a lovely new road marred with shoddy fill in patches.
(feedingtimeatthezoo day 1 of his bikini diet started, Wed 8 Aug 2012, 12:14, 7 replies)

After years of trying
I finally managed to get 1st on a QOTW... I know some of you hate this sort of thing.. to be honest - so do I.

However logging into the QOTW I found myself in a unique position, it was a new QOTW and no one had posted yet. In a heart beat I had already posted a full stop to go back and edit.. and quickly found myself proudly exclaiming FIRST.

Then i checked out the topic.. 'sheds'... I thought to myself that b3ta was getting a bit silly with its questions... and surely the answers started to 'fly' in.... when i say fly in - there was 5-6 answers in the space of 90 mins, mostly ribbing b3ta of its pathetic QOTW attempt...

2 hrs later, it had ended, and gone with it any evidence that i had actually grabbed first...

Screw you B3TA!
(Dan dan dan They tik urh jerbs!!!, Wed 8 Aug 2012, 11:38, 14 replies)

I spent two weeks being followed around by a fly-on-the-wall documentary crew
while making a short horror film which you can view here. They were making a series on people trying to break into showbiz for Sky 1 and we bent over backwards to accommodate them - auditioning and casting the series' other subjects to give them some continuity, re-arranging our schedules and setting up fake scenarios and "drama" for them to film as they asked us to.

Then someone at Sky 1 had the bright idea of casting Louis Spence as the host of this series and our section was dropped like a stone for not being camp enough :(
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Wed 8 Aug 2012, 9:10, 12 replies)

anyone fancy a spot of dogging?
Years ago, me and my girlfriend were adventurous sorts, we were both wild, young and happy to "try new things"

Anyway, we found out there's a dogging spot near our home, so after some deliberation, we decided to see what all the fuss was about... well, after reading about the rules and etiquette of dogging, we set off for some of this canine-sounding activity! We pulled into the carpark, sat there looking at a bunch of cars each flicking their lights on and off in a sort of luminescent Morse code. Eventually we saw one car signalling that the occupant just wanted to watch rather than participate, and once the initial nerves set in, we both headed over to find a young chap sitting there alone.

Anyway, long story short, me and the mrs went and screwed over by the man
(Anne Frank started to build a loft conversion on, Wed 8 Aug 2012, 6:34, Reply)

My experience with jobs
is that the shittier the pay the worse they treat you. Something about your accepting their miserable wage entitles them to whisper with hot breath on the back of your ear these words of endearment, "Now just relax."
(the other guy not the one that gave you coochie warts, Wed 8 Aug 2012, 4:16, 2 replies)

They stiffed me on QOTW
This one time at SHED camp.

Shedshedshesshedlols
(Set your faces to Stunned Bigly, Wed 8 Aug 2012, 2:22, 4 replies)

I worked for a company for 7 years...
...in sales. Smashed every target ever put in front of me. Was top 3 out of 100 people on the floor. One day my boss decided to get rid of me.....illegally get rid of me. Apparently I was a bad influence on the floor, too much of an individual (actual words used by him) and a rebel.

Strangely 4 months earlier my mum bought me a £10 spy pen with a video camera in it and I'd had a feeling something was going to happen in work so I'd been testing it out in meetings, learning how to hold it, how the mike performed, the distance I needed to be from the sibject to get a clear picture and the amount of time I had available to record. When they dragged me in an openly admitted what they did was illegal I filmed every moment and used it in my negociations to eventually get 30k out of them.

How did they screw me? They knew I had an open and shut case and couldn't afford to go to court. In court I'd of got 66K plus loss of earnings.

Plus, I lost a job I was really good at. Cunts.
( The only Dave is pushing things forward, Tue 7 Aug 2012, 22:28, 15 replies)

I once shipped all my stuff to Brazil
About 13 tea chests worth. The shipping company took their fee and gave me an address in the port of Santos where I could pick it up in 3 months time.
Three months later me and the pregnant missus were choofing down the mountains in our pissy little renault into the port of Santos with all our documents to pick things up. What follows is an exercise in beauracracy of the highest order. If you're bored by this kind of anecdote, I advise you to look away now.
I'll use a list to aid my memory:
1. We queue at the shipping company office for an hour, and are given a chit to pay an addtional fee.
2. We queue at the fee window, and are told we must clear the goods through customs ourselves.
3. We go to some government office where the woman says she can't do anything unless we have the minister for the exterior tax paid.
4. We go the minister of exterior office, wait 3 hours, and are then told that we need to have paid the state tax before they will see us.
5. Still deludely hopeful we can do this before the day is out, we go next door to the state ministry office. It is closing but my wife begs the doorman for them to see us, and he relents. We stop a man who was packing his briefcase, and he allows us to pay the fee.
6. We rush back to the ministry of the exterior. It is still within office hours but the officer who can help us has inexplicably gone home.
End of Day 1
7. We arrive first thing at the ministry for the exterior. We wait 4 hours. When we see the officer he tells us that they don't recognize the official copies we have, and they won't take the originals.
8. We search through town to find a registered office that can redo our documents, basically photocopying them and stamping them. the fourth address we go to has someone who does this for us, for a fee
9. We return to the ministry of the exterior and wait another 2 hours. this time he accepts the documents but says they are not enough. We had to prove my wife was overseas for the last year to avoid paying 100% import duty. I had about seven utilities bills, with a good spread. he says he needs a bill for every month, as if we were ducking back to Brazil between bills. I should add that he has copies of every page of our passports. We're fucked, but luckily my wife begs again, and it's hard to refuse a 7 month pregnant woman on a minor technicality. Howevere he says before we can pay the fee we need a signiture from the ministry of agriculture. there is no time
End of Day 2
10. We arrive at the ministry of agriculture, and get a signature certifying that we are not bringing in any agricultural produce and return to the ministry of the exterior. We are beginning to think we are in some sort of video game
11. After a pleasant 3 hour wait and reading brochures on why you shouldn't try to smuggle in motorcyle parts, we are allowed to pay the fee.
12. We return to the anonymous government office, staffed by three fat old women who eye us suspiciously. One looks particularly hostile, and my heart sinks when our number is called and it's her. She gets into an argument with my wife that my portuguese isn't fast enough to follow. There is some form that is missing, but my wife insists we don't need it. To my suprise, the woman eventually backs down, accepts our papers, and gives us the shipping company cargo terminal address.
13. We drive through the port along muddy roads amongst the lorries. Our shipping company has a queue of about 30 lorries waiting. We try and cut the queue but are refused. There is no more time
End of day 3. game saved
14. We arrive the next day early. there are less lorries. After 2 hours we get to the front gate. There is a problem. As a foreigner, my name is not on the car. Under the rules I am not allowed to drive the car into the cargo area if i am not the owner of the vehicle. my wife is seven month pregnant and can hardly sit behind the wheel. I offer to hire a car, but they say this is against the rules. I ask if they can deliver our goods to the gate and i can load it from there, but this is against the rules. We ask for the manager. Eventually he sees reason and relents. One of their staff will drive our car in.
15. We go into the shipping office. there is fee for them holding our stuff for the week that no-one told us about. it is twice as much everything else we've paid until now. We have no choice. we pay the fee.
16. There is a final inspection by the federal police. I wait for another 2 hours in a room full of shipping agents who spend there time cracking jokes. When my turn comes I walk with the policemen through huge warehouses, and there is my stuff, sitting on a pallet. I am nervous, there are some dodgy items including a turkish sheesha pipe that I never could get the bong-water smell completely out of. He makes me open one box: clothes on the top. He says that's all and leaves. I could have taken 200 ks of heroin into the country. How am i going to get the stuff on the car?
17. Some warehouse workers take pity on us, another benefit of having a pregnant wife. one loads the pallet with 8 boxes on my cheap roofrack with the forklift, then expertly ties it with rope he gifts us. I get the other 5 boxs crammed into the car. It is sitting low in the waterline, but still drivable.
18 We make it to the exit gate after getting lost in a maze of sea containers and almost crushed by a lorry. The official there asks for our papers. There is a problem, you cannot leave. I can see the open road and I scream on the inside. Maybe I should just drive off, who'd stop me? The problem turns out to be that I can't be the one driving the car to exit the place, as my name is not on the papers. Fuck it. My pregnant wife slides into the drivers seat, drives 5 meters through the gate and stops. We swap again and are free.
Game Complete. You have rescued the princess. Would you like to play again?
( cumquat may will not be commenting further on the allegations, Tue 7 Aug 2012, 21:26, 7 replies)

It was my first job
Typical overworked and underpaid deal. One friday I was in the company transit doing some late deliveries and the boss phoned and said to take it easy and don't rush back to work and he would see me on monday. Scored! all weekend on the company fuel! Went to pick up the girlfriend for a night out and she went mental over having to be seen in the company vehicle and started kicking it..... in a mood over by the van
(resistanceisfutile, Tue 7 Aug 2012, 20:25, 1 reply)

I got a week's ban from a comedy forum for posting some jokes.

(DefinitelyNOTAmorousBadgerOhNo, Tue 7 Aug 2012, 20:12, 8 replies)

Permanent Record
Back in 1998 I was the 'webmaster' (does anyone still have that as a job title?) for a publishing company. My email address was on the website and I was the company's first recipient of a serious quantity of spam missives offering me sensual delights, physical enhancements and small pills designed to aleviate the teedium of my humdrum existence.

The MD called me into his office and demanded that I stop whatever it was that I was doing that was causing these emails to arrive. "The company takes a dim view of these sorts of things" was his senatorial statement designed to strike fear into my very soul.

I explained that I was unable to stop the spam. I didn't send it and I didn't ever respond to it. He listened and then said 'well, we clearly cannot prove anything, so we will say no more about it and it will remain on your permanent record.'

C word.

The worst of it was, he only called me in because the IT manager had told him I was receiving lots of spam emails. THE IT MANAGER for fucks sake.
(seedybee68 not involved in any rioting since 31 March 1990, Tue 7 Aug 2012, 19:07, 1 reply)

When I was younger I was offered a choice of two Christmas presents - either some unprocessed oil or a Japanese marble-shooting toy.
A weird choice for a seven year-old, but in the end I chose crude over B-Daman.

Is it Thursday yet?
( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Tue 7 Aug 2012, 18:28, 2 replies)

Something about being gang raped by a Welsh prog rock band.
Or the population of a town in Logan County, West Virginia.
(Me, I'm not... in any way intoxicated, Tue 7 Aug 2012, 16:22, 1 reply)

It was my final day in hospital
I had already spent 2-3 weeks hooked up a machine before having an operation. Leaving me pretty much bedridden the entire time. Each day the nurses would come round and give everyone an needle injection into their/our bellies to prevent DVT. I hated this part. It hurt, not alot, I had put up with far worse, but it pinched enough to be fairly annoying. It was an inevitable part of the daily routine. I had numerous red blemishes on my belly.

It was a treatment no different to the silly socks I had to wear aswell.

I was waiting on my bed for my dad to arrive to pick me up. All my discharge forms had been signed, I was out of my pjamas and for the first time in what seemed ages, was sitting in the quite unfamiliar feeling of Jeans and t-shirt. My dad was running late. He was meant to have arrived 30 mins ago.

The nurse arrived at my bed, realising my predicement I informed her that i wouldnt be needing my shot or any medicine, as I was already discharged. I was effectively a visitor.

Apparantly as long as Im sitting in a bed, I still require the shot. No arguing would sway her. My name was still on the form from that morning, regardless that my bed had no sheets on it.

Dammit, it still riles me today, in a funny way. I laugh at it everytime i think about it. She was like Nurse Rachet.
(Dan dan dan They tik urh jerbs!!!, Tue 7 Aug 2012, 15:26, 7 replies)

Holidays
I went to the seaside down south once. It was shit. The next year I decided to get away to a little island retreat and enjoyed it so much that I bought a holiday home there. The island sits off the west coast and is famous for a breed of tail-free cat.

Work the rest out for yourselves.
(Darth Foxtrot A one-man army dedicated to making fetch happen, Tue 7 Aug 2012, 14:11, 13 replies)

what do you mean it was really popular?
Back in 1991 I was asked if I wanted to help out on some artwork and animation for a DOS based space adventure game. Happy to help I spent a few weeks of my spare time coming up with monster designs and simple animations in lovely old DPaint and the even lovelier DAnimate.
I handed the artwork over and pretty much forgot about it (college and running a video shop took my mind off it I guess). Fast forward maybe 15 years and I happen to discover that not only did the game get made, it was fairly successful and quite highly regarded, to the point that it had a decent budget sequel made a couple of years ago.

Not only did the man not pay me, he didn't even put my name down on the credits for the artwork :(
( HappyToast Groat froth, Tue 7 Aug 2012, 13:27, 16 replies)

I used to work in a recording studio.
I was assisting the head tech, a typical Yorkshireman, while learning the craft and on this occassion we were recording a demo for Ed Sheeran, a year or so before he hit the big time. He'd paid quite a lot for the use of the studio and the one thing that they teach us is to make sure that the customer is kept happy, no matter what he needs. Drugs were no problem and prostitutes were even less of a problem. Being born into the rusty pan and not having the fame and fortune yet, we assumed that he would be unlucky in love and opted to treat Ed to a lady of the evening. She was duly summoned and came into our room to find out what we wanted of her.

We kept it simple and plain, seeing as it wasn't really his request. We opted for a quiet, seldom used part of the studio and the head tech issued the instruction.

"Screw Ed over by t' theremin."
( Muns, Tue 7 Aug 2012, 13:12, 5 replies)

The Nostromo was eventually piloted by a woman, but the Millenium Falcon?
'Screwed by a man.

Or something.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Tue 7 Aug 2012, 13:00, Reply)

The lead actress from Kill Bill once strapped one on and pegged me.
Screwed by Thurman... etc..
( Muns, Tue 7 Aug 2012, 12:55, 2 replies)

Winter olympic sabotage
Remember back many years ago when Eddie 'The Eagle' Edwards was Britain's far-sighted hopeful for the ski jump event at the winter Olympics in 1988? Many of you are probably too young to but he was a best man in an event that Britain was never ever going to win. Never a nation to let impending defeat get in the way of our patriotic fervour the whole nation was wishing him well.

He would train in his back garden on a makeshift training device make from metal poles which simulated the position he would have to hold for the winter events. He would be there day in, day out swinging backwards and forwards in this tin contraption trying to build himself up for the big contest. But boy did it squeek! The sound of that thing going all day did my head in. SO I conspired to help all concerned...

In the dead of night, armed with a can of 3-in-1 oil and a near toxic adrenaline load coursing though my veins I snuck into his garden and oiled the fuck out of that thing. When I left the action was smooth, refined piece of engineering.

Sad to say the oiling may have had unforeseen consequences. Without the additional resistance provided by the grind of metal on metal training was not as fruitful as hoped. Eddie came last in both the 70m and 90m events. Screw Ed over? I am deeply ashamed to admit that yes, perhaps I did.
( Jimvin dropped plates on your arse at, Tue 7 Aug 2012, 12:52, 2 replies)

Don't screw over my loved-ones.
The woman who was to become Mrs Airman Gabber joined the software company I worked for back in the 1990's. After her probationary period she was taken on full time but on a pittance, but was promised that after a further 6 months she would receive a substantial payrise. During this 6 month period we established a clandestine relationship that only one of my colleagues knew anything about.

Over the following months she put her heart and soul into the role (with additional coaching by me) and, as promised, was duly summoned to the 6-month appraisal by the 70 year old Managing Director, he informed bluntly that he was not going to give her the promised payrise as,"You'll probably be going off and having babies soon so there's no point."

As I was in a senior role in the company, and was planning to start living with this girl we decided that if either of us made an issue about this blatantly illegal conversation it could jeapordise my situation. We told all our colleagues about it though who were equally outraged.

Ms Gabber-to-be left the company shortly after for a much cushier job. My colleague and good friend (the programmer responsible for the software she supported) had had enough of training a succession of support desk people. He left shortly after that leaving the project right in the shit.

They got a new guy in on £4k more than Ms Gabber-to-be had been paid and he was pretty hopeless, especially without the back-up of the original programmer.

After some coaching by another colleague I plotted my revenge. I arranged a meeting with the MD of the company and told him that although I loved the company and really didn't want to leave I'd been head-hunted for a job that was almost too good to refuse and could he see whether he could possibly match the offer to make sure I didn't have to make this difficult choice.

He did. The rise came to exactly £4k and I took the first salary payment the month after Ms Gabber-to-be and I moved in together.
( Airman Gabber Living life like a 70's BBC presenter, Tue 7 Aug 2012, 11:01, 7 replies)