The story below reminds me of....
...The time I was taken through the disciplinary process at an employer.
Backstory. My manager was an unremitting twunt. He had no social life and threw his entire being into his work, he would call at all hours, expect answers to voicemail messages and emails within minutes day, night, weekend didn't matter to him - HE had fuck-all else in his life and didn't understand if YOU did, if you didn't answer he'd get apoplectic with rage.
I went on holiday. I didn't take my works 'phone or laptop with me. The day I landed back was a Saturday and I'd booked to be in the head office on Monday, so I didn't check my messages. On arrival at head office I was greeted by my manager, who clearly had been vein-poppingly angry for the entire five days I'd been away, the managing director of the company and the international HR director.
I was almost frogmarched into the conference room whereupon my manager started ranting, getting more and more worked up until he had tears in his eyes, banging the table and screaming at me (from about 6 inches away) about my 'Lack of professionalism*, lack of team spirit**, laziness***, lackadaisical attitude****' etc etc.
Once the MD and HR Director had intervened and ushered him out of the room to calm down, they turned to me.
"Now then CP, what have you got to say for yourself, these are serious carreer threatening accusations! C'mon, out with it" He said.
"I was on holiday, in fact, I was on a holiday that YOU PAID FOR due to my performance, that YOU ANNOUNCED AT THE SALES MEETING and YOU AND (my manager) DROVE ME TO THE FUCKING AIRPORT" I opined, somewhat forcefully.
"Oh".
My manager was escorted from the building 20 minutes later.

*Guilty
**Yep
***Can't deny it
**** Pretty much
Still out-performed all of the drones though.
(Captain Placid 24/7 ball gags, brownie mix and clown porn, Thu 9 Jan 2014, 18:14, 9 replies)

I once cooked a thin slice of tenderised meat without making a sound that was my escalope quietly go fuck yourself.

( Dr Preference AjcuiVd289, Sat 11 Jan 2014, 16:45, 3 replies)

No situation escalates quicker than a spoiled child not getting what he wants
This young chap had everything he could have wanted. Life had been good to him. His was the life that we all aspired to live. SKY TV, a remote control Megazord and not just a Mega Drive but a SNES AND a Gameboy!

One day, in the space of two minutes, he went from Mr Primary School Popularity 1995 to a child destined for a life of mockery. He was found in the middle of the playground crying his eyes out and throwing a such a wobbler that multiple teachers had to restrain him from bashing his mother with a broken, what to my 7 year old self seemed to be a fucking massive huge, tree branch. What had set him off on this violent escapade?

It was Red Nose Day. His mum had come to school at lunch to give him his red nose. Unfortunately it wasn't one of the brand new colour changing ones. Instead it was an ordinary red nose, possibly from a couple of Comic Relief campaigns ago. And like any rational young child he decided that this was a crime that could only be punished by violent stick-based matricide.
(danishbacon is haram yes?, Mon 13 Jan 2014, 20:11, 17 replies)

The lifts in the Natwest tower were pretty fast.
They use to escalate pretty quickly.

When I was working as a despatch rider we used to like a job to the Nat West Tower. If you timed it right going down, you could jump in the air and sort of float back to the floor. Sort of.

One of the guys I worked with did it three times on the way down, and then puked in front of the other horrified occupants of the lift.
(username failed moderation, Thu 9 Jan 2014, 15:53, 16 replies)

A small town in Suffolk
Karl and I had been out drinking all night and were stumbling through the streets in search of food, when we bumped into his younger sister insulting a rather chavvy acquaintance of hers. We were therefore in the perfect position to observe when thirty of his mates and forty of hers rounded opposing corners and decided to settle the matter with fists.

We sat on a bench for a minute or so and observed the seventy chav running battle that had erupted from nowhere - literally within seconds - before I made what was possibly the most laconic 999 call ever. "Yeah, there's a fight by the church. About seventy people. Weapons? Nah, can't see any but I heard glass smashing a moment ago. Oh, there it is again, listen *holds up phone in direction of the fight*".

Within seconds five police cars, a police landrover, two police vans and an ambulance rolled up. Took all of them to break it up too.
( MatJ LOOK, Wed 15 Jan 2014, 19:41, 2 replies)

I was once sitting in a Café in Sarajevo when the Archduke Ferdinand was driven past. I had an old pistol so I thought, "This'll be a lark"

( cumquat may will not be commenting further on the allegations, Sun 12 Jan 2014, 11:44, 4 replies)

In a night club in little town called Leeds...
ol' young Halfaxa was dancing away to the classics with soon-to-be mrs. Halfaxa when mutual friend shows up. Pleasantries exchanged, plan to go to the bar made.

Bit of background info on mutual friend, she's been know to be dodgy, bitchy, a part-time sex worker and all round class(less) act but, has been known to be fun so we let it slide.

At the bar I'm leaning at, waiting to be served, mutual friend taps my shoulders and says "Can you git us one too?". I motion yes and make the money symbol with my hand to indicate that I'll need more than what I have on me (£10 note at the moment), a £5 note is pressed into my hand and I turn back around waiting to be served.

Moments later mutual friend pushes next to be and tries to grab all the money in my hand. I turn and ask if she decided she didn't want a drink now, to which she replied yes and I give her the £5 back.

She protests that she gave me the £10 that bad been in my hand since before she came along, I try to calmly explain that no, that was not the case. She told some sob story how that was her only money now to which I explained to her yes, she can have her £5 back, she tries grabbing my money out my hand again and then pushes my face throwing her £5 on the floor and storming off with the lad who'd be desperately trying to get attention from her all night.

For the rest of the night she screamed liar at me when ever she walked past (having gentlemen buy her drinks for the rest of the night it seems), I left early as I had better things to do with soon-to-be mrs. Halfaxa and to this day we don't talk to her.

The grand irony is that the drink she asked for cost more than £5 and I was going to pay the rest anyway. oh I'm also scottish so I know exactly how much money I have on me, the stupid cunt.

This is more a gripe than a funny story really.
(Halfaxa, Sun 12 Jan 2014, 14:03, 15 replies)

It was the christening of my youngest child.
My Son, who we asked to be a Godparent, decided he was wearing Khakis for such a formal occasion. We all tried talking to him but he got really pissy about it, shouting and demanding he could wear them as they were nice Khakis. We even offered him other clothes but he held a massive fuss and fell out on everyone.
Doesn't talk to us now, the scruffy arsehole.
( Maffers I flow kinda strange like Spina Bifida footprints, Fri 10 Jan 2014, 17:43, 13 replies)

A work colleague and I were supposed to bring together a quantity of data into a report to be presented to the boss.
After a few days of procrastination and putting it off, the deadline fast approached and before we knew it, the presentation was in 15 minutes! Total panic ensued.

"What shall we do Timothy? What shall we DO?!" I said, shaking Timothy by the arm.

"We haven't brought together any of this data in any meaningful way for the presentation that is in 15 minutes because we have been procrastinating and putting it off! What fools we have been!" My heart was pumping at the thought of being fired there, on the spot.

"Don't worry", said Timothy, reassuringly.

"Let's collate it quickly".
( Fork Has lost his bash virginity!, Thu 9 Jan 2014, 16:10, Reply)

You know how it is, a few drinks in to an evening out with the lads or work colleagues, a birthday or Christmas do,
when you offer to get a round in because people were doing rounds when there were four of you and now there's twelve of you, but it's your turn and plain good manners mean open the offer to newcomers and you're sure you'll be fine because everyone will get a round in and actually, I've spent £70 but I'm due everyone's return pints so I'll see it back and Whoa, am I actually going to drink 16 pints tonight? No... ah well never mind and....add a kebab, a taxi...the next morning you are left wondering how your wallet is still smoking from when you burned through £100 in one night but only drank 7 pints.
( Rotating Wobbly Hat That's not a banana. THIS is a banana., Tue 14 Jan 2014, 21:27, 34 replies)

A real story…
This involves my dad, back in the late 60s.

He was taking a local girl out for a drink on possibly their second date. They’d gone for a day out in the country and had stopped off at a pub in town for some refreshments. It was a pretty rough pub, not perhaps the place to take prospective girlfriend material.

Anyway the old man went up to the bar and was about to order another pint, but before he could speak, the barman leant in and told him quietly that it’s best he left right now if he wanted to remain in one piece. Taken aback, he began to protest before a group of angry looking men marched into the pub.

Not wanting to fulfil the landlords prophecy, he hastily made his way back to the table and told the girl that they were “leaving right now”.

As they left the pub through the main double doors, they just missed another large group of men with ‘Irish’ accents, all “dodgy gold and bad BO” (apparently).

About 10 seconds later they heard shouting, then moments later all hell broke loose, before a body came flying through one of the large windows at the front of the pub. My dad’s date let out an almighty scream as they both broke into a jog to escape the mayhem.

It turns out some squaddies had arranged a punch up with some nearby travellers after a previous disagreement in local nightclub. So it went from a quiet beer to West Side Story in about 30 seconds.
(Deskbound You insignificant speck of dust, Tue 14 Jan 2014, 16:45, 6 replies)

I just got some 70's style bathroom flooring done.
They were in and out within half an hour.
I thought to myself "that tesselated quickly"
( GeordieJay Bummers are deaf, Mon 13 Jan 2014, 14:14, 15 replies)

Facebook War
cheezburger.com/149509

Apologies for the cheezburger link but I think it's worth it this once.
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Sun 12 Jan 2014, 2:10, 8 replies)

One day...
Lee Mack was feeling suicidal. He decided to throw himself into a combine harvester, but when he tried he found it was just too fast for him to catch. So he embarked on a lengthy training program to try and increase his speed. After several months, he had almost doubled his pace and felt he could now catch the combine harvester and throw himself into it.

Meanwhile, the lovely Tess Daly was taking a break from presenting Strictly Come Dancing, and was working on her father's farm. On this particular day, she was driving the combine harvester. Suddenly she noticed Lee Mack approaching at a rapid pace, and she tried to stop but he ran directly into the blades of the combine, ripping him into several pieces.

Tess was horrified, but she knew she could save him. She quickly gathered together all of Lee's parts and reassembled them, and gave him the kiss of life. Then she prayed for him to survive. God answered her prayer and Lee made a full recovery. Tess fell in love, and she divorced Vernon Kay, married Lee, and they lived happily ever after.

So, in the end it was a miracle that Tess collated quick Lee.
( calibrax loves teh hamsters (not in that way), Sat 11 Jan 2014, 11:55, 3 replies)

Just about anything that happens in my house
the week before 'that time of the month'

"Do you know where I left my phone?"

"I WILL STAB YOU!"
(username failed moderation, Thu 9 Jan 2014, 15:50, 1 reply)

Daleks
Daleks are a major PITA. Wherever they appear, death and destruction inevitably follow. The monomaniacal pepperpots only know how to do one thing and they do it well. If there's single point of agreement between me and that bastard the Doctor it's that the universe would be a better place without the fucking things. But the Skarosian buggers simply refuse to die out and are always popping up here and there to seek locate and exterminate ‘lesser’ races i.e. every cunt but them. And don't get me started on that wanker Davros.

A long time ago, in one of my early incarnations, I was of an idealistic bent, and you could say somewhat naive. I'd set myself up as a conflict negotiator and my services were much in demand. One day I got a call from the Council of the Ghoji asking me to mediate in a dispute between them and - yes, you guessed it! - the Daleks.

I should have heeded the Lesson of Temmosus and turned it down, but as I said, I was young and innocent. And, with hindsight, bloody stupid. What the fuck would Daleks want a peace conference for? I was soon to find out...

The Ghoji are, or were, a beautiful race; tall, slender, goat-like humanoids. Imagine Planet of the Apes, but with goats. Planet of the Goats, then. They were gentle pacifists with a peaceful and prosperous empire covering seventeen star systems in the Recusmetis Galaxy. They had a highly developed culture, and were fantastic musicians. Seek out recordings of the Ghoji Synthonika, you won't be disappointed. Unfortunately, one day the Daleks turned up on their doorstep. Weirdly, they didn't immediately conquer and destroy as is their usual MO, but instead, when the Ghoji leaders asked for a peace conference, the Daleks agreed. Little did they know at the time that this was only a stay of execution.

The Ghoji contacted me to handle the negotiations, and like a fool I accepted. I rocked up to Ghoji Prime a few days in advance so I could sample some of the local culture and, of course, fuck a load of young rubbery goaty bodies. Come the day of the conference, which took place in a giant glass hotel overlooking rolling parkland. The Ghoji leaders sat on one side of a long table, half a dozen Daleks the other side, and me at the head of the table, slap bang in the middle. To say I was a bit nervous is the understatement of the millennium.

Once the ceremonial glang had been vonged, Mhoam Vlaghmrhm, the Ghoji leader, stood up to speak. A tall, slender, beautiful goatlike being, clad in pastel robes, wonderful lambent brown eyes. She cleared her throat to speak. 'Welcome -'

That's as far as she got. 'EXTERMINATE!' screamed all six Daleks in unison. I ducked under the table as they unleashed their death-rays upon the Ghoji delegation. High-pitched caprine ululations reached my ears as the Ghoji screamed and died. There was a not unpleasant smell of roasted goat.

'Well, that escalated quickly,' I muttered to myself as I legged it from the conference room.

I realised later that the bastard Daleks had only agreed to the peace conference as a sort of joke, to amuse themselves - maybe they had got sick of just wading in and blasting everything to fuck, and wanted to try something different. Or maybe it was to send a message. But I didn't know that at the time and was more concerned with my own survival.

I managed to hide in a broom cupboard, from which I could peer out at a wide concourse. Ghoji were milling about shrieking and being mown down by the Daleks - thousands more of which had landed immediately after the end of the 'talks.' I watched a brace of Ghoji run up some stairs - and a Dalek surge at surprising speed up after them and blast them to atoms.

'Well, that escalated quickly,' I muttered to myself, retreating to the very back of the cupboard and hiding under some towels.

To cunt a long story short, I managed to make it back to my TARDIS and escape. The entire Ghoji civilisation was completely wiped out. I regenerated shortly afterwards, and was never so naive again.
(Dr Skagra glorious glargzhem, Tue 14 Jan 2014, 21:45, 15 replies)

.
My dear friend Edward suggested a plummy walk through England's marvellous countryside in search of the beautiful weirs and tributaries in order to observe the aquatic life within.

However, after many hours of rambling and looking at festering streams, I suggested we embark on a trip to a favourite of mine in an attempt to rest his fears that all of England's fair waterways had succumbed to neglect.

Imagine his delight as he feasted his eyes upon the glorious stretch of tidily kept riverbanks of North Yorkshire.

Yes, that Esk allayed Ted quickly.
( brown-wings Made with three kinds of butter, Tue 14 Jan 2014, 10:50, 7 replies)

I was roaming through Syndicate with my spaceship buddies
When Goonswarm dropped a couple of carriers on us. So we counter-dropped some dreads, next thing you know everyone's involved, Brave Noobies, iRed, Test etc. Then someone tries to do a drive-by with a Titan, that gets tackled by some heavy interdictors and a load of caps died.

This is the Eve Online forum right?
( DinivanX Has stinging piss after drinking Pact Coffee, Mon 13 Jan 2014, 12:52, 2 replies)

I visited the Stratosphere restaurant in Las Vegas.
My ears popped.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 10 Jan 2014, 13:39, 2 replies)