I once found grafitti that was older than I was.
and indeed older than my grandad was- from 1904 to be exact.

I was trying to sleep in a room in college between classes, but not really succeeding as the only places to rest were less comfortable than being told intimate details of your parents love live. There were a couple of old desks in the corner that people sometimes used to give presentations from, but generally left alone because they were so old.

I decided to open one out of boredom and found a load of grafitti from 1904 all the way up to 1912, mstly just names and dates- some had faded through time. The Undersecretary of the benchers had written his name and his weekly wages- followed by the line - "and not half enough I say". There were old bills for coal and book binding, as well as one old newspaper article warning about the rise of the Liberals. It was like a window in the past.

Sad to think any of the original students who wrote on it probably died in the trenches.
(FondaAccord, Sat 9 Oct 2010, 11:27, 1 reply)

on a roll..
growing up in a large country village with town-like aspirations in the arse end of nowhere, summer holidays were dull affairs so we had to add excitement ourselves. when i say excitement i mean generally being little destructive, annoying bastards who, looking back, deserved more good hidings.
as already mentioned i grew up in the countryside, surrounded by fields, rivers and lakes and whatnot. think the shire with chavs. so anyway, one particularly sunny summer holiday day, me and my 12 year old friends were mooching about, kicking dirt about, when one of us spots the local farmers huge rolls of hay, all dotted along the field. now, this field was basically the side of a hill, and this hill was quite steep. wouldn't it be fun to push those bails/rolls of hay down the hill!!!
now, these rolls of hay are big buggers, and they take a good few of us to get rolling, but when they do, what fun!!....for 3 minutes anyway.
3 or 4 rolls of hay later and boredom sets in again....hmmm what to do....someone reaches into their little bastards tool-kit and produces a lighter. now we're talking!! great bails of fire!!!!! light the bail from the front, let it get really ripping, run round the back and puuuush! we must have set fire to a good few of these when some rotter spoiled our fun :( the sirens tell us the firebrigade are on their way. so we scarper. but as we all know, people always return to the scene of the crime. curiosity gets the better of us so we go down and chat to the firemen as theyre about their business, looking as innocent as can be. 'no, we never saw anyone or anything, we just saw the smoke and heard the sirens from way on yonder and came to see what was going on mister'. what cheeky little shits we were.
it wasn't the only year we did that either. sorry mr farmer.
(monofur, Sat 9 Oct 2010, 11:14, Reply)

from my sister...
Her French teacher was a lady by the name of Miss Heaton, not popular amongst my sisters circle of friends, to the point where one of them decided to go into the french room and write "Miss Heaton is a bitch" on the blackboard. Just as the girl was finishing the "h" of "bitch", who should walk in but Miss Heaton? The girl looked her nemesis straight in the eye and in a broad Boltonian twang declared
"It weren't me."
(Shining Love Pig, Sat 9 Oct 2010, 9:31, Reply)

I always wondered about this one
On a pub toilet wall in Camberwell, circa 1985ish, forgotten the name but near the bottom of Camberwell Grove, was inscribed "Jesus had a dog called Andy".

I've always liked it and part of me doesn't really want to know if there's a dull explanation. Part of me does, however, so go on, spoil it for me.
(unclestinky, Sat 9 Oct 2010, 9:01, 6 replies)

Does anyone remember...
... the shoe shop Freeman, Hardy and Willis? The finest piece of vandalism I ever saw was the sign over the store in (I think) Dunstable, which had been surgically altered to read "Free Hard Willys", causing me to damned near piss myself laughing.
(Large Hardon Collider Bah Bloody Humbug, Sat 9 Oct 2010, 7:19, 1 reply)

Strongbow
Ah, lovely cider. It's my go-to drink, and often it's ultimately my downfall too. Starting around this time last year, I was going through a tonne of the stuff.

I had just broken up with a girlfriend I'd been with for almost an entire year. She was awful - 20 by the time our relationship was over, she was more childish than anyone I've probably ever met in my life up to that point. I wasn't happy for a long time, and to be fair neither was she, so I finally broke things off.

At that point, I'd spent a solid four and a half years in two relationships, with only two weeks of downtime between them. All of a sudden I was rather enjoying the single life, and teamed with another newly single friend of mine decided to really enjoy life without the weight of these shitty choices of girlfriends around our necks. As such, that meant going out drinking a lot and meeting new people. For the most part, we kept things tame, but one night towards the end of our escapades stands out in particular for all the wrong reasons.

I had completed 2009 with the most man-points out of any of us, most earned ultimately on drinking 30 shots worth of various spirits in the space of an hour, and then adding about another 8 in the hour following that. The night disappeared after that first hour, but I do know that in winning those man-points I ended up sexually harassing one of my best friends in the park, then finding myself alone as snow fell down all around me. I somehow got home and passed out before midnight arrived, and my friends scaled my fence to peer into my house to see if I was alright.

Man-points carried over briefly into 2010, but we didn't do much creatively with them. On this night in particular, Alex and I had already downed quite a few cans of Strongbow at my house and were reasonably pissed. Karl joined us about forty minutes in, armed with drink of his own, and after a relatively brief pub stay we ended up flitting about town, pub-to-pub and also pub-to-house as I picked up yet more Strongbow.

The three of us perched on one of the benches outside the local church past midnight, Alex was eyeing the floodlights illuminating the fucker for the world to see - albeit with a rather unfocused, dim view of things.

"I'll offer 25 man-points to anyone who headbutts the floodlight," he said.

Fair enough, thinks I, and I trot off and give it a little headbutt. Karl does the same, we earn a fair few man-points for nothing in particular, then Alex decided to show us how it was done. He crouched down in front of it, then proceeded to slam his face against the glass of the floodlight repeatedly. When he turned around, the floodlight was now pressed flat against the ground, no longer raised at an angle, and Alex had also cut a fat hole in the centre of his forehead which was pissing blood down his face. As we discovered later, he should've immediately got it stitched up. He now sports a rather nice scar.

We took him back to mine to clean up, which drunkenly ultimately ended with more blood spread across his face, and then we wandered to the park. Getting steadily more pissed, now armed with vodka and a rather large bottle of coke to mix it with. Before long our favourite fast-food place called out to us with the promise of a delicious chicken wrap. Its allure too great to resist, we headed back downtown, and through the churchyard once more.

It was getting on for about 2am and everywhere was fucking empty at this point. In his drunken haze, Alex had a great idea. There are two entrances to the church, and these are blocked off with gates before the main entrance doors. Alex scaled the gates giggling and pissed up against the door. From the other side, Karl and I watched, alternately laughing and looking about ourselves in case anyone passed. They didn't, Alex hauled ass out of there, job done.

Alex was always doing the really funny stuff while we were drunk, but this time I was determined I would one-up him. So, with Karl's help, I scaled the gate, went up to the entrance doors to the church and did something I'm not proud of.

I pulled down my trousers and boxers, squatted down and took a fat, messy shit in the entrance of the church. There was no way it could be missed in the morning. It was foul. Consistency like chocolate porridge, it was like some rank cowpat dropped for the morning's congregation, staring up at them like a big shitty eye.

I pulled my trousers up, hopped over the fence, giggling to myself but at the same time shame already kicking in. I had won, however. Briefly.

In the time I took taking a shit, Alex had spotted one of those big tomb-like grave things that stands almost as tall as a person, more like a scaled-down stone shed than anything. This was railed all the way about by an iron fence, and Alex somehow managed to climb over and into the enclosure. On top of this grave was a great stone lid, four or five inches thick at least, and he placed his hands underneath and began to push.

It can't have been some brute strength, as the thing must've been fucked by years of weathering I'm sure. Either way, the lid shifted and then fragmented, raining down in fat bits, leaving a gaping wound looking into the interior of this grave. Karl and I freaked, and began reaching through the bars to help Alex try to fix this rocky jigsaw, but it was too late. The damage was done, and try as we might we couldn't repair it.

Alex hoisted himself out of there and we scarpered. The next day, the church had been opened as normal, and as I walked by and peered in, the shit was gone: undoubtedly cleaned up by whichever poor fucker had arrived and stumbled upon (hopefully not literally) the rancid contents of my guts.

The grave, however, was a tattered mess, lid not quite all replaced, hole peeking into this poor man's final resting place. I don't think it's ever been fixed. I wish beyond belief that it's because no one has noticed yet.

Fingers are still crossed.
(ratthingbazzterd, Sat 9 Oct 2010, 1:24, 9 replies)

Yes, I AM a ferret
/joke
( MatJ LOOK, Sat 9 Oct 2010, 1:22, Reply)

Practical and informative!
Many of us know the joys of the

"Festival Portaloo' !!!!! (exclamation marks for dramatic effect)

These are necessary evils in otherwise awesome events. This particular tale comes from Download 2010's offering. You can spend a whole weekend stalking out the lesser used loos which border on 'humane'. In my preferred quiet patch I found this little gem scrawled on the inside of the door. It was a tally chart with three options....

Sit

IIII


Stand

II


Hover

III




Ho ho ho, funny little moment and I carry on my drinking and merry making. Having completely forgotten about this I'm delighted to find the same loo again but someone had added one sad, lonely, alternate option bellow



Fell

I
(Gherkinlasagna is probably doing something stupid on, Sat 9 Oct 2010, 0:08, Reply)

writing on a classroom wall
(i was too old really to be doing this sort of thing (17))

i wrote "whoever reads this is a cunt"

teacher asks (knowing full well it was me but not wanting to let on (he was a cunt and a narcissist but was too much of a wanker to do anything but make some passive aggressive gestures every once and a while))... "did you read it?"

I say "yes, I'm a cunt"

someone laughs and he looks slightly annoyed.
(hieronymus bosch pcmechanic 4ver in ar harts, goodnite sweet angle, Fri 8 Oct 2010, 23:48, Reply)

The biggest Cunt I ever did see.
I did some ski seasons in my early twenties, working behind a hotel bar to pay for 5 months of hitting the slopes every day and in that time I witnessed an act of genius that stuck with me.

The bar I worked in was opposite the main slope so we had lights that shined different coloured shapes and patterns onto the slope at night from the front of the bar. The unit that provided this array of Technicolor worked by having about twenty metal discs on a revolving mechanism, each one had the shape required cut out of the middle of it for the light to shine through, each disc span around and changed colour for about five seconds or so then it went to the next shape.

This is where the hotel handyman decided to show his disdain for the management toward the end of the season, he took a sheet of metal and cut out a disc the right size, and over the course of a whole day used a very fine drill bit to cut out the word cunt in the disc, it worked as expected, projecting CUNT thirty feet high and about sixty feet wide on the opposing slope, right in front of the hotel bar, restaurant and the guest room balconies. making it the largest, most colourful and most ingenious piece of vandalism I have ever seen.

The best bit was people used to notice it, look away, shake their heads in disbelief/mention it to a friend then look back, by which time the image had changed.

Length... Meh.
( evilamnesiac says fuck you Prince, Fri 8 Oct 2010, 23:19, 1 reply)

oh another one from high school
in my music class we were all given ring binder folders that we had to put our work in, and one lesson i was given my folder and in pink highlighter someone had wrote "patrice ere bein well bored ov music" eventually i found out that it was a girl a couple of years below me and i couldn't understand why you would want to write your name on a music folder... especially if you're name was Patrice :-/
(bamslower i like cheesecake..., Fri 8 Oct 2010, 22:22, 2 replies)

Oh and the shittest political statement i've ever seen
Was an anarchist symbol sprayed on a Barbers.

I mean.. why?
(mr-lizard Hell's teeth man!, Fri 8 Oct 2010, 21:47, 5 replies)

Official Conservative billboard in Huddersfield during the elections

Vote Conservative

Labour

Liberal.
(mr-lizard Hell's teeth man!, Fri 8 Oct 2010, 21:45, Reply)

on a billboard, I just passed it.
Firstthingsfirst.org(family values type thing) has lots of billboards and whatnot up around town. There's one campaign for teens and dating, the sign shows a young girl, looking a bit down(depressed, not syndrome, I didn't say downsy) and the caption "He's jealous because he cares, right?"

Someone spraypainted, No bitch, you're a cheating slut.
(CactusZack Shaved his coin purse on, Fri 8 Oct 2010, 21:05, 1 reply)

outside a hair salon
They had PERM $25 stenciled on the wall.

Someone spraypainted an S in front of the P, so it read SPERM $25.

My wife would drive out of the way so she could read it and laugh.
(CactusZack Shaved his coin purse on, Fri 8 Oct 2010, 20:54, Reply)

Best bit of graffiti that I ever saw...
...written in permanent marker on a small brick wall outside a dentist's surgery:

MICHAEL IS GAY WITH HIS MOM

B- for effort, methinks.
(Draco Rattus ate all the pies on, Fri 8 Oct 2010, 20:39, 2 replies)

DIY vandalism
I occasionally do some voluntary work at a campsite, helping out with DIY type things.

Once we were asked to move some daffodil bulbs as they were going to dig up an area to put some drains in.
During this particular weekend, another volunteer called everyone he met "GAY". As a fitting tribute we wrote out "YOURE GAY" (no apostrophe, sorry) in the daffs. It looked rubbish at the time but I heard back the next year that they had flowered nicely and the management were not happy.

Painting stuff on walls in mould killer leaves a nice ticking timebomb. Graffiti on dirty concrete paths with pressure washers is another good one.
( thistle, Fri 8 Oct 2010, 20:30, Reply)

M1 - Between Junction 36 and 37
There is a bridge that has the word GOURANGA written on it. Whenever I pass it, I always think of running over and killing a gaggle of Hare Krishna for fuckloads of points.
(powervator and NONE SHALL PASS, Fri 8 Oct 2010, 19:43, 11 replies)

Gullible Child
When I was a child, we used to play in a warehouse owned by our electrician neighbor. One day, someone smashed all his fluorescent lighting plastic panels. He pleaded for help from us kids in locating the malefactors.

Several months before, I had obtained a junior detective crime-fighting kit, and already had a database of all the local kids' fingerprints. I went to work.

Plowing through piles of plastic rubbish, to my surprise, I actually located fingerprints, and identified a suspect. I quickly confronted the electrician's grandson, 'Bobby'.

Bobby hotly denied it all. I believed him.

And so the crime remains unsolved to this day.
(Perv With A Dog had his eyes pecked out by scrub jays on, Fri 8 Oct 2010, 19:38, Reply)

A story I heard...
Some time in the 1980s, a group of pro-animal rights students hatched a plan to spray paint the words "Bradford University tests on animals" on the side of the lab there.

However, they got disturbed by security part way through and only managed the words:

"BRADFORD UNIVERSITY"

On the side of Bradford University. In 5ft lettering.
( Sculpture of Man Putting a banging donk on it since, Fri 8 Oct 2010, 19:32, Reply)

(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 8 Oct 2010, 19:07, 2 replies)

It ALL belongs to THEM

(Perv With A Dog had his eyes pecked out by scrub jays on, Fri 8 Oct 2010, 18:56, Reply)

Cinemahaha
My local cinema used to suffer from some fantastic vandalism. The 'showing now' sign on the top of the cinema used to regularly have it's letters jumbled round, to read an offensive message. The greatest being 'Anal fist wank'.
They now have a message which asks you to phone a number to find out what is on and you'd be hard pushed to make anything from the letters they have used.
I often wonder who it was but to this day it remains a mystery. It may be a coincidence but after Richard Whitely died it never happened again.
( spingers, Fri 8 Oct 2010, 18:53, Reply)

British Rail
Many years ago before they redeveloped Reading station there was a rather rough path by the side that took you under the bridge and off to Reading Bridge. The path had a large sign headed "British Rail Notice", and then stated "This passageway is private and is not dedicated to the public". To which someone had added in an almost identical font " much the same as British Rail."
(forum_stalker, Fri 8 Oct 2010, 18:50, Reply)

I's a hard man
O'Connell street Ireland, over a decade ago a young Daz and his fellow country bumpkin mates are exiting the side entrance of Eason's, one with art supplies that weren't intended for art! This being one of those thick wide thin (if that makes sense) pencils.

In a show of teenage recklessness my friend began to scribble on the side of the building with the pencil. I stood there with his twin guffawing egging him on, his twin rather nervous he would be caught. Lo and behold an elderly gent approached my friend and asked briskly "What the fuck did he think he was doing?"

I started nudging his twin telling him to go to the other side of the man and we'd intimidate him til he fucked off himself. The twin timidly stood to his side while I stood beside the perp and told the man to mind his own business. The man took one look at me, moved his coat to the side revealing his garda (police) uniform, and said quite calmly "I am". Manly hardy manliness took one look, grabbed his mate and twin and grovelingly scuttled backwards gushing apologies.

Length, 5cm cause he didn't get to draw the bell end.
( dazbrilliantwhites has been meaning to change this..., Fri 8 Oct 2010, 18:23, Reply)

how i stopped the local kids writing graffiti about me
in my last flat, i had a reputation as something of a mental case. i promoted this illusion, mainly so the local kids would leave me alone and stop kicking footballs at my windows. this seemed to be doing the trick, until kyle and his family moved into the street.
now, this odious little crotchfruit had already been expelled from one school and had his family kicked out of their previous house. not bad for a 10-year-old. kyle decided that, as i was VERY fat, i must be mocked at every opportunity. hardly a day went past without this little cumwaste shouting such pearlers as "oi! fatty!" at me. hoping that he'd grow tired of it without a reaction, i ignored him.
one day, however, i happened to walk past a wall about 100 yards away from my block of flats, when something caught my eye. scrawled in large, childish letters was the phrase "smash monkey wears big knickers"
well, duh.
as i was on my way to bingo(sad, i know), i had pens in my bag. whipping one out(ooer), i added underneath "of course i wear big knickers, have you seen the size of my arse?"
strangely, kyle never shouted names at me again after that, nor did any of his mates.
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Fri 8 Oct 2010, 18:14, 21 replies)

Young creative pyromaniac vandal.
Written on my phone so cut some slack.

I was, by my own admission, a destructive little shit. One bout of destruction in particular I do now regret.

--- wavy lines---

With a brother 3 years my senior and a couple of older step brothers to boot, I inherited and continued to build upon a considerable collection of toy cars. We'd all been car mad as most boys our ages were, but for once my extended familial situation paid dividends as i, the youngest, had the car collection to bring forth envy from any pre-pubescent boy I knew.

The vandalism was initiated by my uncle long-term lending my mum his camcorder. One saturday in front of beadles "you've been framed" a dastardly plan to score £250 was born.

Fizzing with excitement I was desperate to get some footage in the can. I set up the camera to show a 'parked' lorry full screen so deceptively life sized. A ramp was hastily erected and a benz slk was duly launched. The resulting collision was less than spectacular and quicker than the eye. I resolved the lack of damage by inflicting some beforehand with a screwdriver but still didn't acheive that a team / knight sides effect. Fire was definitely what I lacked.

I tried a burning trail of toilet roll but that was frankly pathetic. I deduced that accelerants were the key to hollywood stunts. The best I could find in the house was nail varnish remover but it worked well. Some great dangerous and inventive yet shit quality animation was produced. About 2 hours of 'rushes' in total, consuming a whole day in the garden, 2 disposable lighters, both my eyebrows and every flammable liquid I could find. Oh, and 90% of my cars.

The punishment I received after treating my mum to co exclusive preview was suitably severe and worthy of its own post when a suitable topic arises. That's not why I regret it though. This year my first so was born. It would have been something special to share with him in the future.

And the tape? Mum recorded over it with my niece learning to walk or some shit. No fucking respect eh?
(Greencloud Wanted to go fishing on, Fri 8 Oct 2010, 17:47, Reply)