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This is a question Vandalism

I got a load of chalk, felt-tip markers and paint from friends one Christmas in a thinly-veiled attempt to get me involved with their plan to vandalise the toilets at the local park. My downfall: Signing my name. Tell us your stories of anti-social behaviour.

Thanks to Bamboo Steamer for the suggestion

(, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 12:10)
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This question is now closed.

I was a bit bored
So decided to bomb Dresden.

Great laugh.
(, Mon 11 Oct 2010, 12:53, 3 replies)
When we was kids, there was a disused mental asylum (or loony bin if you prefer the modern PC term) close to where we lived. Naturally, we broke into it and began to smash it up. We found wheelchairs in the corridors which was great but even more fun: there was a cupboard containing straitjackets. You have to really trust your mates to let them push you around in a wheelchair having strapped you into a straitjacket.
(, Mon 11 Oct 2010, 12:29, Reply)
I burnt a copy
of the Koran last week, Have nothing against it or, it's teachings, it was just freezing and had nothing else to hand that was big enough, Do you think i'll get into any trouble????
(, Mon 11 Oct 2010, 12:09, 11 replies)
When I started my current job - a grey 9-5 for a faceless corporation - I saw that one of the printers had an "Out of Order" sign on
Which I proceded to preceed with "Well".

I enjoyed the subesquent chuckles from people who's lives were that dull that this had cheered them to some degree.
(, Mon 11 Oct 2010, 12:04, 2 replies)
semi vandalism
I was once studying on a very primitive network at school, a load of BBC micros (or something like that) connected to a printer. Was not really taking much notice of what the teacher was saying, but typed in what I was told.

Then completely lost interest, and typed in a few of my own commands;

10 print "fuck off ";
20 goto 10

Turned to my mate sitting next to me, and said 'hey, check this out'. Run the program, nothing happened. Nothing . . . Meantime, two other things did happen.

Printer goes beserk.

Teacher goes to printer, looks at what's happenening and bellows 'Who is station 11???'. Well, seems the stuff I was typing earlier, which I wasn't paying attention to, was to set all screen output to the printer.

Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off Fuck off
(, Mon 11 Oct 2010, 11:49, 2 replies)
Fun with fluorescent paint
Many years ago I stood on my mate Mick's shoulders one night and neatly painted "FUCK" in meter high white chemo fluorescent paint letters, high up on the unblemished white wall of Plimmer's Steps in my old hometown of Wellington, New Zealand.
Then for good measure I hopped down and wrote "Fuck" again in black biro a few more times at eye level on the same white wall.
Naturally outraged nocturnal users of this busy inner city thoroughfare complained frequently to the city council and local newspapers about this luminous desecration, and on my way to work I frequently observed grouchy looking council workmen obediently painting over my eye level graffiti, along with the other inevitable felt-tip epithets that sullied their pristine white wall.
...at eyelevel. Being white-on-white my far grander effort further up the wall went unnoticed by the council workers and their taskmasters, who only worked during daylight hours, and therefore never bathed in its ghostly night time glow. The council kept getting an undiminished stream of complaints about my vandalism, and I kept adding to their misery by dropping by and adding a few more red herring black biro "fucks" every time they painted over the wall - always at eye level.
They were completely baffled. Why was there such a big fuss over a few tiny swear words in biro? It took two years and a swimming pool full of white paint before they finally cottoned on.

I like to think that this subliminal swearword served as the inspiration for John Carpenter's 1988 cult sci-fi classic movie "They Live,” but it probably wasn't.
(, Mon 11 Oct 2010, 11:44, 9 replies)
The Art Department was Proud...
For a whole three months in 2004, I was a schoolteacher. The Principal of the establishment was, by all accounts, an incompetent, self-righteous, bone-headed idiot who'd somehow landed the job after a short but undistinguished career in the Diplomatic Service. He was held in very low esteem by students and staff alike, and just about every single one of his voluntary actions made the general feeling about him worse.

The time came for the Upper VI to stand down before their A-Levels. Inevitably, we were expecting some high-spirited, but good-natured, trouble, and were prepared for it. What actually happened was a bit more serious.

People arriving at school on leavers' day were greeted by expletive-laden abuse directed at the Principal that had been spraypainted prominently across one of the school's buildings, and on the tarmac in one of the quads, by some of the more disgruntled leavers. The department in which I taught was across the road on a different site, but the news spread down there quickly enough. I, and a couple of other staff, wandered across to see what had happened. Among the students, there was a rumour that the vandals had hidden themselves in the school at the end of the previous day, and so hadn't even had to break in.

The Principal was standing in the quad when I arrived, surveying the damage. There's a chance that he was wondering what he'd done to attract such invective, but I suspect that he was actually planning the petty revenge he would be taking on the main suspects, whose identity was an open secret. He saw me and made some comment about the disgusting behaviour.

I hummed and hawed a bit, and made the right noises of agreement - after all, I was supposed to be a member of staff. But it was obvious that, even among the staff, the condemnation of the vandalism was less-than-wholehearted. The Principal was, after all, universally loathed. So although I made a number of expected statements about irresponsible vandalism while I was talking to him in earshot of some students, I couldn't help adding a codicil of my own.
"Still; you have to admit that they chose quite a nice shade of paint, don't you?"

Well, it was true.
(, Mon 11 Oct 2010, 11:12, Reply)
Sexy School Vandalism
While preparing for study leave at the age of 16 a group of friends and I were given our username and passwords for the brand new suite of computers, Pentiums no less. It didn't take long for us to work out that everyone's username was their surname followed by their first initial, all the passwords were simple password. Having scanned the classroom to see who was absent that day we all signed in as ClarkeJ and proceeded to browse the internet.

The following day during a free period we asked a teacher if we could go into the computer room, which was his form room, since we needed to send some emails, we were let in and promptly all logged in as ClarkeJ again. After some initial football browsing one of my friends shouted for us all to have a look at his computer, proudly displaying some rather softcore porn pictures. Cue the rush to find the most graphic images we could find, it wasn't long before we're staring at an image of two Asian girls pissing on each other. The room falls silent only to be broken by the feint hum of a laser printer warming up, oh yes, he'd decided to print it out for posterity.

5 minutes later all the noticeboards in the room are full of pinned up hardcore pictures, pissing, fisting, pregnant asians, everything (that existed in 1997).

We legged it, one of our members had gone bonkers and we left him to tidy up. He didn't.

Instead after lunch a class of 11 year old students walked back into their form room to be greeted by that sight.

Days later we were caught, after ClarkeJ had initially been marched into the headmasters office and been severely reprimanded. Somehow, possibly because two of our number were dragging up the grade average, we were let off with 3 days of 'community service' style activities and we had to stay in school for study leave that week.

Crime never pays, but it doesn't seem to get punished either.
(, Mon 11 Oct 2010, 10:53, Reply)
A very primitive CDC
I once was first into the classroom for Physics except for the teacher who then left the room for a few minutes. On the desk was the pile of our exercise books ready to be handed back with our marked homework in.

I then had an idea, but I would have to be quick. I dashed over to the books. With a biro, I quickly drew a CDC, a very primitive CDC indeed on my thumb and then used it to stamp the glyph at the end of each pupils' homework assignment as if it was an alternative to a gold star for good work. I did them all including my own except for one. A twat of a kid called Lee who I despised with every cell of my body and who used to give me a hard time through primary school several years previously.

I then dashed back to my seat and began to furiously scrub the pen off of my hand just as everyone else wandered in followed by the teacher who took the register and then handed out the books. Some kids actually opened to see how they did, but a lot didn't bother. Then came a muttering "what's this?" It spread and drew the attention of the teacher who examined a few books to see this:

in everybody's book except for Lee who consequently got the blame and was sent to the Deputy Head's office.
(, Mon 11 Oct 2010, 9:48, 1 reply)
During lunch break
in high school, I would buy a Subway sandwich, sit with my friends, then remove the pickles and fling them at the wall nearby. They would make a very satisfying slap against the wall and stick there in defiance of the laws of gravity. The next day, they would be gone, magically. I feel bad now, because someone else had to clean up my ignorant mess, but at the time, I just really liked slapping pickles against a wall.
(, Mon 11 Oct 2010, 9:03, 6 replies)
At this location
there used to stand a disused ramshackle Quaker chapel. Inside was a large pole that was slightly longer then the building and would rest diagonally across the room against the wall. Along one side upon this pole, someone had daubed the words "Iron Maiden". Fair enough, but on the opposite side they had also written "Kajagoogoo". I cannot see the purpose of this juxtaposition or its location where practically nobody except maybe a few nosey teenagers on a bike-ride might venture.
(, Mon 11 Oct 2010, 8:11, Reply)
The council do it to themselves...
There's a village - well, not even, a group of houses really - on the Isle of Skye called "Breakish" a little bit south of Broadford and just a few miles up from the infamous Skye Bridge.

"What's so funny about that?" you all ask. Well, "Breakish" is the anglicisation of the Gaelic word "breacais", or "trousers" in English. Now there's two parts to Breakish and one of them is a little further down the hill, towards the shore. It's called Lower Breakish.

Google Streetview

Don't worry about the length, it's only a couple of hundred yards from the first house to the last.
(, Mon 11 Oct 2010, 8:06, 3 replies)
Bit of a sad one ...
I was in the Ladies a while back with my two wee girls. A lady in her late thirties(?) turned away from the fanny pad dispenser, somewhat distraught. At first I thought she didn't have the right change, but I soon noticed that the coin mechanism had been vandalised. Fuckers.

"Hang on a minute." I said to her cheerily, "I've got something here." And fished about in my purse for some unmentionable necessities. She thanked me quietly as I handed them over and suddenly the penny dropped. Unexpected period, lady in her late thirties.

As she passed me, I touched her elbow and said "I'm so sorry." Mistake. She was just about keeping it together until I said that.
(, Mon 11 Oct 2010, 6:48, 11 replies)
One of the desks in the German room
For my whole and largely enjoyable tenure at secondary school, one of the desks at the front in the german room had written on it the whimsical ditty:

'Oral sex is nicer
All expenses paid
I do it in the daylight
And in the evening shade.'

Of course, the first time I read it was the first reference I'd seen to oral sex and I was intrigued as to what it could possibly be. But, it did not take me long to learn to appreciate its genius. To this day, when engaging in the aforementioned act the poem invariably pops into my head and I have to suppress a grin.
(, Mon 11 Oct 2010, 6:02, Reply)
one that i liked written on stair well
"if you notice this notice
you'll notice this notice
is not worth noticing"

im not sure if is original or not but i smiled
(, Mon 11 Oct 2010, 4:26, Reply)
Ian Brown
You may remember he got banged up for a bit of air rage in the late 90s - threatening to chop off an air stewardess' hands was not a smart move. I was pissed off as I'd a ticket to go see him - might have been in King Tuts in Glasgow, can't quite recall. However, his time in the clink provided one of the best bits of graffiti I've ever seen, scrawled on a desk in a lecture theatre.

Ian Brown: I Am The Resurrection '89
Ian Brown: I Am Incarceraton '98

(, Mon 11 Oct 2010, 3:08, Reply)
One particular tree in Bristol

I thought it was quite lovely.

Apologies for any 56k raping.
(, Mon 11 Oct 2010, 2:16, 5 replies)
Avian wildlife abuse.
While under training at a large naval hospital on the South Coast I left one of my exercise books loafing on a desk.

When I returned someone had scrawled "Pugwash fucks seagulls"

This amused me so I wrote underneath "He also has funny terns"

Every one of the lads who watched me do this smirked and told me I'd spelled 'Turns' wrong.
(, Mon 11 Oct 2010, 1:38, Reply)
My shitty little town
Or Bicester, as it's known to the rest of the world, is twinned with - among others - a French town called Canton des Essarts. Every year, the council put up a new sign. And every year, within a week or so, said sign is changed to read "Cantona des Essarts"
(, Mon 11 Oct 2010, 0:10, 2 replies)
As a teacher...
I deal with only the most petty of vandalism. Our school clings to the fringes of a frightfully middle class town, and so our clientele are fairly well behaved as a rule. However, the lure of producing a crudely drawn member on any available surface is a universal one, and even the most straight-laced of children can only hold out for so long.

It was last term when I spotted it, right near the end of the school year. It was proudly displayed on a year 9's book: slap bang on the front cover of his book. A magnificent specimen of genital anatomy, a vision in black marker pen, engorging and enriching the whole page. Truly, this thing was superb. However, it did pose somewhat of a dilemma for me.

As a teacher, the urge to chastise was strong: the wretched child had vandalised his book, and should be punished. As a human being (and b3tan), the urge to encourage this behaviour was almost as strong. How to reconcile these two opposing forces in the universe?

Simple: I am a science teacher.
"You will label that half-finished... *cough*... "diagram", and label it properly, using scientific vocabulary. You will not make any mistakes on it, and you will complete it for homework. If you do make any mistakes, I will send the whole diagram home in an envelope for your Mum to correct for you."

It was the best piece of work he produced all year. I hope he treasures it.
(, Sun 10 Oct 2010, 23:07, 3 replies)

(, Sun 10 Oct 2010, 23:06, 1 reply)
My story of vandalism recently made the NY Times.
(, Sun 10 Oct 2010, 22:59, 7 replies)
for a good couple of years i kept noticing road signs that someone had shamelessy tagged as ''poole YOUR PANTS DOWN'' it was a lame chuckle, but a chuckle none the least.
(, Sun 10 Oct 2010, 22:41, Reply)
Maybe one or two of you have seen it
Near the town of rugby in blighty there is a disused railway bridge on which has been written, removed and rewritten countless times " HOME RULE FOR CRICK" Crick being a small village about 7 miles away across the other side of town.It can't be missed by anyone coming into rugby along this road. I'm only 41 and i can remember it being there for my entire life. Anyone better that?
(, Sun 10 Oct 2010, 22:16, 2 replies)
I hope this kid is a b3tan, because then he would win. (possible pearoast)
(, Sun 10 Oct 2010, 21:50, 2 replies)
The joys of being a night-shift worker...
At the tender age of 19, I was hiding up in North Wales, doing a psych degree. Being a student, I was desperately poor, but having a high-maintenance girlfriend meant that wasn't really an option if I wanted to keep ploughing her lovely furrow. So, to BnQ I went, with my hands out, begging to be employed as part of their 'night crew'.

Roll on three weeks and i've been trained as an on-site forklift driver, meaning that I am qualified to drive a forklift, but only on that premises. Hilarity. Over the course of 6 months, I destroyed china baths, whole pallets of bricks and paving slabs, an oven, two washing machines (speared them) and one highly-expensive RF gun (ran it over).

Fortunately, my friend Mike was equally destructive (spilt 300 gallons of white emulsion in the stock yard... took 6 hours to clean), and was 'best mates' with the wideboy of a shift manager, so he covered for us and we overlooked his late-night shenanigans.

One night, somewhere around the witching hour, I was carefully manoeuvring a pallet of loft insulation to the top deck of racking in store, (about 2/3 storeys high), when I accidentally nudged the racking. "A nudge? What's so bad about that?" I hear you ask... This nudge resulted in the store's fire alarm wire being cut clean through (due to it being in the wrong bloody place), setting off the sprinklers. Doesn't sound so bad, right? However, the servicemen for the fire alarm system had been during the week, and had forgotten to close off the main stopcock for the sprinklers, meaning that thousands of gallons of rainwater per minute was gushing down to the floor... Right over the wallpaper aisle.
The fire alarm was connected to the emergency services line, so while we were watching BnQ slowly flood, wondering what the fuck to do, the boys in blue, plus a fire engine, plus a bloody ambulance all turn up in the carpark, expecting the worst. The manager goes outside to tell them that nothing too serious has happened, but we may be flooded within the hour. The firemen help to close the stopcock and the water stops gushing... All we could hear was the steady drip, drip, drip of water on paper.

Damage? In excess of £10k. The fire alarm servicemen took the rap, as the wire that I cut due to my negligent driving wasn't meant to be where it was in the first place... And I got an overtime bonus for helping clean up the water! Result.
(, Sun 10 Oct 2010, 21:41, Reply)
The only real act of vandalism I have done (if you don't count evacuating an entire hotel in Jersey by hitting the Fire Alarm when I was 12) was on a bible a year ago at a hotel chain in Oxfordshire.

The front page read something along the lines of

"All characters contained in this book are entirely fictitious and any resemblance to anyone real, alive or dead, is completely coincidental"

My colleague thought I would go to hell when he saw it the following morning. I will, but not for adding a few words to a book in a hotel.
(, Sun 10 Oct 2010, 21:22, 3 replies)
In Pub Toilets
"You do not buy your beer here....you merely rent it."

Genius. It lives in Amersham.
(, Sun 10 Oct 2010, 21:19, Reply)
Back in the late nineties or thereabouts, our wonderfully awful town of Dirty Neots became a testbed for all sorts of wonderful new traffic calming that was yet to be inflicted on the rest of the country (speed cushions - those daft fucking speedbumps that don't go across the whole road - being the ones most worthy of note; Clarkson visited once in order to ruin suspension and whinge about it on some chat show. I digress.)

One of these marvellous inventions was a zebra crossing on a speed bump. Yes, they already existed elsewhere, but apparently through accident rather than design. This was the first ever official one, accompanied by a pedestrian-crossing sign bearing below the notice:


This very quickly, at the hands of alas not me but some local associates, became:
It was good!"

Not a lot of entertainment here in the east - every so often, the sign is replaced and someone fills it in again.
(, Sun 10 Oct 2010, 21:12, 1 reply)

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