"Not me but a mate"...
... in 24-hour cornershop hell.

With the supervisor keys to the till.

Which had the admin key on the same keyring. And the user manual in the stock room.

So, you know how they display the product descriptions for the item you just scanned, and print it on the receipt? What happens when you leave two bored, stoned, Viz-reading students in charge?

You get receipts with "ARSE WIPE" instead of "Toilet Tissue", "FANNY PADS", "CANCER STICKS", "PIKEY CIDER", "TRAMP JUICE", etc. for about a week, before some hacking wheezing pikey munter comes in and complains.

Length? Depends how long you old "PAPER FEED".
(gordonjcp, Wed 14 Jan 2009, 16:43, 7 replies)

I work at an airport
and thanks to the 'credit crunch' there's been a noticeable drop in the amount of work in Baggage Handling, leaving me and my mate Bob plenty of time to piss about.

On Friday, we decided to race baggage carts between gates 31 and 32. First one around the undercarriage and back wins.

We were neck and neck coming up to the nose gear, so I tried to swing across and give Bob a dead arm.

Bob saw what was coming, and swerved out of the way... right into the fucking Airbus.

There's a massive gash in the fuselage, and we're both on suspension :(
( Noeli overtheshoulderboulderholderthingstraplatchboobs, Wed 14 Jan 2009, 16:39, 7 replies)

Pizza delivery is by no means boring
...that is, if you work for a pizza place that is run by two psychotic psytrance gurus and serves the local stoner populace. Free pizza, beautiful music in the shop and enough free time to bond with my boss, rolling absolutely enormous spliffs. Driving a pizza, while stoned, to a bunch of teenagers who are similarly stoned. Then getting more stoned. Then driving back to the shop. Thus runs my night. Apologies for banality... my brain has divorced me for the time being.
(Tiktock Beating off flamers with a shitty stick, Wed 14 Jan 2009, 15:46, 10 replies)

Sports shop fun
My first job was in a small, independant sport shop. And on Sunday's we'd be dead. I mean, maybe 3 customers in the space of 5 hours. Bliss.
So, me and some of the part timers decided to play football on the shop floor, and one of the 'senior' members of staff got involved, and we used training cones as nets. Like you did when you were kids. Twad great fun and our cunt of a manager took Sundays off, so he never knew about the two footed tackles and the disgusted customers when they seen 3 teenagers on the ground literally wrestling over the ball (we were very competitive).
Other variations included indoor rugby, hockey and cricket.
Also, on a busy saturday, I was caught skiving & skateboarding in the stock room.

I lasted in that job for under a month. And I'm sorry I left, as it was possibly the most fun job I've had, apart from bar work.

Length? Each game lasted between 1 - 2 hours, as customers usually interrupted!
(ColinS needs to eat, Wed 14 Jan 2009, 15:38, Reply)

New Age Office Toss
SpankyHanky's post reminded me of a great day of management-wankery that I was forced to endure...

As part of a highly-motivated (sorry, that should read borderline-psychotic) technical support team, it was deemed that I and my colleagues should undergo stress management training. Presumably this was the brainchild of the HR director who had previously tried to fire a colleague for not turning up to a meeting she had scheduled on the first floor - he was in a wheelchair and there was no lift in the building...

However, we were told to report to the training building (or, more accurately, miserable portakabin the other side of the car park) to undergo our training.

I don't know what set the tone more: the simpering 20 stone woman dressed in what she thought was bohemian business attire (but whom actually looked like an over-stuffed laura ashely sofa with perfume spilled on it), the "inspirational" posters she'd put on the wall (see www.despair.com and think of the non-ironic version), or the "ambient" music she had playing (it sounded like one of those "Celtic Moods" CDs you see for £2.99 at a petrol station).

We were told to sit down whilst she gave a lecture on how Christmas, weddings and house moves were the most stressful events you face, with work being right up there, too. She then said she could teach us how to beat stress (whilst failing to see the fact we were a) off the phonelines, b) had just had lunch and, c) had been able to sneak in an extra fag break meant we were as relaxed as could be).

We were told to lean back, relax, close our eyes and imagine we were walking in a forest, at which point she told us a stroy about walking by a river, listening to the wind in the trees, etc...

Now, I think the fact that ten of us took the opportunity to get 40 winks in at full pay after a heavy lunch and a couple of lunchtime beers escaped her, as the sound of snoring, slow flatulence and the occasional snort as people woke up before they fell off their chair didn't seem to phase her. In fact, she positively beamed at how marvellously we had de-stressed.

Sadly, I woke up and, because I was sitting in a beam of sunlight, couldn't doze off again and had to wait for the godawful CD to end.

I had to take a coffee break and have a smoke just to get over the trauma of her attempting to give an unrequested neck massage that felt like she was trying to knead bread.

So, there you go - a room full of techies bored witless by a scheme designed to help them unwind. A few of us ended up more wound-up than ever due to the happy-clappy attitude of the person supposedly sent to unwind us all.

Still, it managed to waste ten minutes of a dull day today typing the story into b3ta - huzzah!
(Chad, Wed 14 Jan 2009, 15:23, 2 replies)

Net send messages
One of the IT geezers in a place i used to work at showed us the amazing technique of the net send message on a rainy afternoon. Most people reading this will know what these are i imagine, but for the uninitiated, its basically a pop-up messaging facility between networked pcs. The bonus is that it is, if memory serves, IP address based, so no instant trace of who sent the message, at least to the PC nieve folk who got messaged over the next couple of weeks. They also look quite official. The atmosphere of big brother paranoia and heavily timed toilet breaks etc etc helped us to make the most of our new trick.

Before the game was up, we had sent numerous people (mainly middle managers) to see their bosses to apologise when they came in late or weren't dressed "appropiately" (according to our exacting and ridiculous standards). We also sent people out to the car park to randomly move cars and told people that they needed to go back to the toilet and wash the back of their trousers.....childish but necessary amusement back in the dark days of call centre employment
(impossibly witty twat No, YOUR Mum etc etc, Wed 14 Jan 2009, 15:15, 3 replies)

Pizza Hut
My boyfriend and I were in the Pizza Hut on Sauchiehall Street in Glasgow, and when we paid the bill, printed at the bottom of the reciept were the words "RITE U KNICKERS AFF".
(SusK, Wed 14 Jan 2009, 14:56, 3 replies)

Training Day Fun
I've had the pleasure of working for lots of different companies in lots of different offices. There's always a subtle difference from company to company. Some have blue carpets, some have red carpets, some have big pot plants, some have god-awful modern art wank on the walls etc. But without question dispite these momentous differences every firm has had one ball-shudderingly tedious event in common: The sales training day.

This is basically when you get a bunch of gobshites in a room and have some overpaid moron, usually in a bad polyester suit, telling them how to be more empowered, how to push things to the max, how to achieve their ultimate life goals using a maximum potential differential ratio, and other such useless made-up guff.

I always enjoy these training days. Yes, they're tedious, but I'm getting paid. And if I wanted to get paid for something I enjoy doing my cock would probably have fallen off by now. So I'll take my chances having some oddball treating me like a mental patient for the day. Beats the hell out of working for a living.

The training day is an excuse to have a bit of fun. Once, I actually got expelled from one of the courses. The trainer asked me to leave and gave me a look as if I'd just got my cock out and dangled it over the cot of her firstborn.

The reason I got asked to leave was as follows...

We file in, sit down, talk some bollocks, as sales people do in a getting-to-know-you vein.

Then the trainer asks us to answer three questions with one word answers. She would then go round the room and see what amusing anecdotes we, as a group could come up with. This is called ice-breaking, apparently.

So, she starts with a few of the newer sales force who appear to be getting into it. Oh, how we chuckled. Then, I think she must've seen the look of cynicism in my eye as she pointed a finger at me and said:

'Errm, Mr Hanky, could we have your effort please.'

And I leveled her with my patent pending steely-eyed gaze and retorted.

'COCK.

MUNCHING.

BASTARD...'

And that was when I was asked to leave. Ree-sult!!!

That was a hard one to explain to my boss, but she actually saw the funny side and let me sit at my desk and pretend to work while the rest of the 'team' endured a day of this useless bollocks.

And the three questions we had to answer???

What bird would you be if you could be a bird?

What activity do you enjoy the most in your spare time?

If somebody could discribe you in one word, what word would that be?

Oh, happy days!!!
( SpankyHanky, Wed 14 Jan 2009, 14:50, 9 replies)

Evidence
The Thompson's Local Directory for Bristol used to list, amongst "Community Help", the "British Dyxlesia Association"

For many years, all Yellow Pages contained "Boring - see Civil Engineers"

Both evidence, I think, of someone with nothing to do one afternoon ...
(ubergeekian, Wed 14 Jan 2009, 14:38, 6 replies)

It sounds to me........
.......that if this "credit crunch" continues there is a lot of slackers in the work place that can be removed with out any effect on productivity. I am going to have a good look round my office and see who we can fire.
(Pork2311, Wed 14 Jan 2009, 13:58, 5 replies)

I've been playing snooze roulette
This is where, having been woken up at 3am, thus only having 3 hours sleep last night, you spend the day avoiding doing anything serious, but instead surf the net, make the odd cuppa and try to stay awake when people are talking to you.

So far I've dozed through two meetings by sitting in the corner and letting the others do the talking...

*edit: the the "roulete" part comes from trying to get through a meeting (or nap) without snoring or waking with a violent start, thus giving the game away. I'd have proof-read what I had typed before I posted...but I dozed off. :-)
(Chad, Wed 14 Jan 2009, 13:51, Reply)

I get pretty bored at work.
Just before Christmas I was more bored than usual.

A quick look over my desk revealed the following items to me:

A Scalpel (with blade)
Lots of rubber bands
A steel scale ruler

"Hmmm..." I thought, braiding the rubber bands together, "I wonder how far I can fire the scalpel."

I pointed it at the ceiling, pulled back on my improvised catapult and let the medical-grade pointy thing fly.

We've now got a scalpel-shaped hole in the window in our office, as my shot went ever-so-slightly off course, burst through the glass, and embedded itself in the roof of the corridor.
( Cawl, Wed 14 Jan 2009, 12:20, 3 replies)

Sleeping Your Way to the Top
There are many tales in the world. Perhaps they are all cyclical. Perhaps they need to be told in order to be told again in a thousand years. This is a tale from a thousand years in the future but it actually happened ten years ago. Now I feel like Dr. Manhattan.

A young perky chap was at his first job. It was in an office, and he had very minor responsibility i.e. he could boss a secretary around but that was about it. He was quite technically minded this young chap, and quickly sought hi-tech solutions to his daily work chores. This young buck quickly gained a reputation as a magician in the office solutions field. After all, any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.*

This afforded him time to devote his attentions to that which he loved. Sleeping. Oh my stars and garters did this young turk love sleeping! It was his third favourite thing in the whole world and when you consider his top two favourite things you might understand the depth of his love.

With an antiquated laptop churning out accounts automatically via the magic of formulae and queries, this lad used to make himself scarce and sleep to his heart’s content. Alas, this happy time could not last and when the secretary found him huddled in a store cupboard with a pencil case as a pillow, trouble quickly ensued.

In danger of undoing all of his previous magic and technological achievements for his slothful ways and general turpitude our young fellow had to defend himself in the only way he could. With his young, tender, unformed, lying, brain. He claimed that his general work was of excellent worth and he had not missed any deadlines and that as a sufferer of narcolepsy with associated cataplexy he was being discriminated against.

The bosses that be flicked through various dictionaries and were aghast at this poor fella should suffer from such an unusual and dehabilitating condition. A medically trained aunt was coerced into providing a letter stating that he suffered from the above conditions. HR was informed and pillows and a blanket were provided at his desk. He was given a pay review after 3 months and was promoted after six months.

In due course he became head of the finance department. Thus, this was how this young chap slept his way to the top.






*obviously ACC’s Third Law
(powervator and NONE SHALL PASS, Wed 14 Jan 2009, 11:18, 3 replies)

Tantric Wanking
Occasionally I have to travel from the Midlands where I'm based down to big ol' London Town for work. On every single occasion this will mean that I spend a great deal of time waiting, either for the train to get into London, or hanging around in small siderooms while clients potter around ignoring me.

I've subsequently learned to always take a book and my phone charger, but for the first few occasions I had nothing but my own imagination to keep me entertained.

As a result, I attempted to teach myself how to masturbate without touching or rubbing. Thus, the mythical goal of Tantric Wanking was set.

I tried thinking of hot ladies i'd like to donate my throbbing gristle to, and pictured them on their knees begging for me. Oh, what's that Eliza Dushku? You want to join in? Hop on love!

Sadly, despite an uncomfortable and potentially embarrassing trouser tent, after half an hour I still hadn't progressed to the hallowed ignition sequence. I tried breathing techniques, I ran through the entire catalogue of lovelies who are forever trapped inside my spankbank, but I couldn't get the spice to flow. By now the mental harem were getting angry, demanding their sticky gift, and I had to admit defeat.

Deflated, I tried to work out why the goal seemed just out of reach, but then thought I'd been lucky to escape spluffing in my pants while at work.

I still had time to kill, so I began to wonder how my life would change if I had been successful. I dreamed of one day mastering the art, and through repetition and focusing (and maybe a Karate Kid montage), I could learn to project this power upon other people. I could, theortically, develop the awesome superpower to give orgasms to people purely on a whim!

I pictured myself making beautiful ladies experience soul-flaring orgasms simply by winking at them. How popular would I be?!

As is par for the course, I then wondered how I could use this fantastic gift to rob banks. In the end I settled on the idea of causing all the staff and security to be paralysed by the crashing waves of multiple orgasms, while I raid the safe. I could even be creative, and set off a mexican wave of ejaculation, or head to Wembley Stadium on match day and see if I can recreate a Las Vegas fountain display.

The possibilities were endless! If only I could crest that wave in myself, I could be a God.
( Labia Majora You keep on talking but it makes no sense at all, Wed 14 Jan 2009, 10:29, 8 replies)

The crow and the woman
There is a stupid crow trying to mate with himself, flying again and again against the window. And there is a bored woman watching at it for hours.

I'm so bored.
(Aberracion Life's getting very complicated, but a lot of fun., Wed 14 Jan 2009, 9:52, 12 replies)

When I was younger...
I worked in a small supermarket (or grocery store if you are that way inclined). At 17 I was made an assistant manager so could get away with almost anything. Highlights of working there included:

Turkey Bowling: Very simple, around Christmas time we used to have a lot of frozen turkeys in the shop. In the evenings when it quietened down, we would arrange 10 bottles of Coke, 7-Up, whatever and launch the Turkey down the aisle at said bottles like a game of bowling. Hours of entertainment.

At Halloween we used to get fun snaps in stock. You know the little packets of gunpowder mixed with little stones so that when you throw them at the ground then make a little bang. Anyway I used to place clusters of them on the floor about the shop so when people stood on them or rolled a trolley over them they went off and frightened the bejaysus out of the customers.

As I was an assistant manager I was often left to my own devices while the manager snuck off for a few hours. One of my favourite games to play was to go up to the office and spy on a customer at random. I would then use the mike to get one of the lads on the floor to follow that person around. Example “John to aisle 3 please. He’s got a bottle of washing up liquid in his hand. Follow him. Wait...I think he’s on to you, fall back and await further instruction”. Obviously the guy on the floor was in on it aswell but it was great fun.

The weighing scales for the fruit and veg was over by the fruit and veg section and not by the tils where it should have been. If I was covering someone on the till, and a customer arrived with un-weighed fruit or veg, I would take said fruit or veg, walk over to the scales and place an exrta bunch of banana’s or a few apples with their produce. This one wasn’t out of boredom, just a petty form of revenge for making me move out of my chair.

I’ve seen this mentioned here but we used to also walk down an aisle full of customers letting out silent beer farts and then wait at the end of the aisle and watch them all look accusingly at one another. Great entertainment.

Part of the stock was stored up in the attic where it got nice and cosy during the summer. A favourite way to while away a few hours was to go up, make a bed out of the stacks of toilet rolls and sleep. The record was one guy who slept for 10 hours of an 8 hour shift. Thats right, he came in for a 10-6 shift, fell asleep at 11 and didnt wake up till 9 when I found him and told him to go home.

The guys in the butcher department used to have great fun with the freezers. Before leaving on a Saturday night, they would get basins of water and throw them all over the floor of the freezer before quickly shutting the door. The next day, any time someone ventured in they would have to fight for dear life to stop slipping on their ass. Another trick for a newby was to throw the water on the ground and wait about half an hour so it froze a little. They would then send newby in for something and follow suit. Once there, they would wrestle them to the ground and sit on them for about 20 minutes. Then you have a newby whose pants are now frozen to the floor.

One of my favourites was the time someone cleaned up the store room and found a bra. So me and one other guy did what any self –respecting young men would do, we overpowered the cleaner, tied him up, put the bra on him and dragged him into the lift. He was found 30mins later by the very irate manager.

There’s loads more but thats all I can think of for the moment.
(BigFatPaulie, Wed 14 Jan 2009, 9:51, 1 reply)

Best Job Ever...
I used to work for a company, lovingly monikered 'Crapita' by Private Eye, and boy, were they crap (or good, in my eyes!).

We used to play Desk Cricket. Pretty simple really. 2 or more players are needed. 1 batter, 1 bowler, and several fielders if required (depending on how obvious you want to be). Toss a coin to decide who bats first. The person opposite the batter will bowl a ball of scrunched up paper to the batter wielding a florescent marker of choice. Pre-set boundaries are key, for 4's and 6's (We used to use the nearest printers either side of us). Runs were made by spinning around on your chair (If you have a generic office chair that is!). This was a popular game, due to the amount of time The Management© used to spend licking each others ring pieces in the boardroom.

Stupidly, they also installed two pool tables in our break out area. Stupidly, seen as we set up a pool league for nearly the whole office, and spent many an extended lunch playing up there. Alas, a few of us did get a rollicking for spending 3 hours up there on day whilst The Management© were on a first aid training course for the day, and some twunt dobbed us in.
( Rolypoly Has decided, by decree, that todays date will be, Wed 14 Jan 2009, 9:07, Reply)

Dear Photos.com,
I writing to express my utmost disgust in discrimination and racial slurs I have noticed in your service.

Recently, while searching for pictures to accompany an article I was preparing on the ravages of the HIV virus, I searched for the term 'AIDS'. The second image returned in the results was of a blind black man, walking with a cane. I have attached a "screen shot" of this search.

Because the subject of the photo is a negro with sunglasses, and he is walking with a cane, does not mean that he has been blinded by complications of AIDS, is blind, or has AIDS at all. To imply a black man has AIDS because he is blind is an offensive and ignorant gesture.

While one may reasonably argue that being black does indeed increase your chances of having AIDS (and that the majority of blacks have HIV), I feel it would not in any situation be appropriate to be selling this picture under such pretenses.

I would recommend, in light of this issue, to remove this offending picture from the search results.

As an interesting side-note, no references to AIDS (or in fact any results at all) are returned when searching for 'Nigger'. I feel, if this is not human error, that your search engine should be improved.

Yours Sincerely
Richard Charles William Bruce Ascot-Sinclar Jr



http://www.photos.com/en/search/index?q=aids

=====================
I'm a graphic designer, and pissing around searching for offensive terms on photos.com is a good way to look busy. I wrote this email to them at work today, pretending I was emailing a client in Outlook.


(brazzin, Wed 14 Jan 2009, 9:03, Reply)

Somewhat tenuous........
4 years ago, I was working for a company as an admin whore, and had a boss who was rather.......demure. She was from South Korea, and wasn't really good at expressing what she wanted out of her employees, but when I was hired I kind of brought her out of her shell somewhat.

I'd been there about 4 months, and she went off on a training course, the same week a coworker vacated her desk. Being b3tan, and English, it provided the perfect opportunity to really......fuck my boss over.

There were about 100 of us in the company, and due to being English, a prolific smoker and a drinker, I knew pretty much everyone and was certainly known at least for the accent.
So I roped in her boss, HR and several co-workers.

We moved everything from my desk to the recently vacated co-workers station during the week she was on the training course. When she came back, of course "my" desk was empty. Off she goes to HR, who suggests she talks to her boss.........who totally played along with teh "Oh, workboresme quit, said she couldn't stand you". By this point, the entire company was in on it, including the owners.......who played along with it until she burst into tears.

Finally, at around 3pm that day, I walked over to her desk with a cup of tea (she learned that from me). She almost killed me. Her boss and the owners were pissing themselves laughing, and the rest of our co-workers took us out for drinks that night :D
( Batshitmentalist is sane for once, Wed 14 Jan 2009, 6:40, 2 replies)

Beer Store Humdrums
So i work at a beer shop. we get tons of brand promo, like Kokanee Girlie calenders.

I decided to add huge pubic bush onto the scantily clad ladies. It looked real, i just cut out ugly mops from other mags and glues them on. Subtle, yet disturbing. gave them away. randomly.
(caco p. hony, Wed 14 Jan 2009, 6:09, 1 reply)

I was there and I saw what you did...
OK this is as pointless as they come, but I have a guy who works for me who is a huge pop music afficionado. In a moment of extreme boredom I challenged him to see how often he could sneak Phil Collins lyrics into everyday office conversation.

He's proven to be frighteningly good at this game and two years later he still periodically does it. I'm finding myself hypervigilant around him in case he pulls a Collins and I miss it.
It's Phil Collins for gawd's sake? Why do I even care?
(Thomas_The_Spankengine, Wed 14 Jan 2009, 2:57, 7 replies)

Being the only non computer retard in my office
I can happily sit on sites, such as the wonder that is b3ta, for as long as I wish, so long as nobody is standing directly behind me.

All that is needed is typing. The faster I type, the harder it seems I am working. I am a reasonably fast typer, but every now and again I get the urge to metaphorically explode all over my keyboard and type faster than humanly possible just to see if anybody catches on.


They don't.

(My boss once asked, me whilst typing an e-mail, and I quote "How do i move that line that keeps disappearing?")

Sigh.
(TheColonel, Wed 14 Jan 2009, 1:45, 3 replies)

Simon and the Travel Agency
I used to work with a very personable but very straight-laced chap called Simon. He took his politeness to extremes, to the point of taking forever to relay the slightest morsel of information because it was so suffused with unnecessary platitudes. So naturally, we made it our mission to make him swear at least once a day.

Simon's phone number appeared to be very similar to that of a travel agency specialising in trips to the Indian Subcontinent. Several times a week, the poor sap would get calls from Indian-sounding individuals who spoke next to no English and would persist in trying to book flights to Mumbai despite Simon's excessively polite yet futile attempts to explain that they had, in fact, called the council.

Simon's colleague, Jonathan, saw this as too good an opportunity to miss. Having already briefed us on his plan, he retreated to the conference room, called Simon's phone (no caller ID, where do you think this was, Wandsworth?) and proceeded to try to book a holiday to Bangalore for three people, a goat and a sitar, with the most outrageous, Goodness Gracious Me Indian accent he could muster.

Simon, naturally, started his usual "I'm terribly sorry old bean, but it's just possible you may have mis-dialled ever so slightly" patter, but Jonathan was prepared, and launched into a foul tirade of subcontinental abuse, accusing Simon of winding him up, and he wanted to book his holiday to Bangalore RIGHT NOW, and why did they employ honkies anyway?

Simon was flustered, but still kept his cool. At least until the background snickering from the 15 other people in the office evolved into a roar of uncontrollable laughter.

"Jonathan," Simon opined, "You absolute cocksucking fucking cuntbiscuit."

Result!
(Axeman Jim, Tue 13 Jan 2009, 23:05, 3 replies)

Product Replacement
The Boss is unlucky when it comes to buying things. A few months ago, he bought an ATX power supply for home use - it arrived a bit dented, so he sent it back for a replacement. Another week later, another parcel arrived.

Inside?

A hard disk drive.

Every seen someone in a state of incredulity, confusion, and anger at the same time?

Last week another parcel arrived - a 16:9 monitor. Wouldn't work with his very old PC, so he ordered an AGP graphics card.

This arrived today, when he was in a meeting... so I opened it and replaced the contents with a PCI express one from a spare machine, and sealed it all back up again.

He didn't notice and took it home this evening for fitting.

Should be interesting tomorrow...
(Mucky has squinted at the screen with one eye shut since, Tue 13 Jan 2009, 22:38, Reply)

Board Stupid.
At a Southern depot of a company that rhymes with Oil Fail, there is a light board overlooking the truck parking bays. Every so often, it will flash thus: "Service No. XXX, Bay YYY". If the driver takes too long, it will flash again: "Service No XXX, delay warning, Bay YYY"

For one glorious shift around Xmas 05, the delay warning read thus: "Service No XXX, stop wanking, Bay YYY"

Imagine the boredom of the poor sod who risked his job to put that up!
(all my scars face forward possesses 2.5% of a hyperalloy combat chassis, Tue 13 Jan 2009, 22:34, Reply)

Not me, but a friend... but boy did it affect me...
I still don't know how to react to this one. Not so long ago an old friend revealed that he'd passed bored moments at work fiddling with colleague's code...

This was old mainframe days, and the little scamp, who was slightly senior to me, had worked out how to make changes to the code library without it showing up on change logs. Basically, he was hacking.

And what he did, when bored, was to play with things. Little things. Sometimes he'd introduce errors into people's code. Subtle ones, but there nonetheless.

I used to get bollocked for stupid errors in my code. Or for misspelling my own name in comments. Problem was, I had no recollection of making the error so I had little in the way of defense except to shrug. For a while this went on, my confidence slowly sapping under the weight of repeated bollockings for things I couldn't really explain.

One of my colleagues later became a good friend. Then I discover what a twat he'd been. Someone he didn't actually like had much worse things done than I had to her code and it led to her having a breakdown.

Now, these days the guy's generally a good all round egg, but it's hard to feel close any more when I realise how he'd amused himself at work... and the fact that it quite possibly caused a lot of damage to my career. Did I really forget that there are twelve months in a year, or was it his hackery for his own amusement that introduced that error?

So when I read some of the comments about sabotaging the work of a colleague, I find myself wondering just how much damage that bit of fun actually caused - especially if it never came out into the open.

I guess I'm feeling like a right miserable git right now....
(clopinettes, Tue 13 Jan 2009, 22:31, 2 replies)

This is a post for all those that work in a dull job like I do.
Its really funny to read these stories of people messing about in the office or wherever. But I cant help but feel a bit jealous at times. Mainly because I'm a funny guy desperately trying to get out, but im surrounded by a bunch of perhaps the most dullest people on the planet.

Our office is like a morgue. Even just before Christmas when people were supposed to be more giddy and relaxed.. Nope.. i'm surrounded by silence and people tapping away on their systems. No radio, no joy, no nothing. The silence is deafening.

We never have fun in our office. I try to raise the spirits a bit, but no one seems to respond. Or if they do the flame is quickly died down again back to silence. I work with nice guys but theyre DULL. Dull people who have too much work ethics.

Any procrastination in our office is usually just sat reading facebook or sending emails.

Boring boring boring. But just wanted to share this with everone because I know theres probably a lot more people like me reading this who work in boring jobs with boring people and dont get chance to have much fun.

Thankfully I have memories and stories of previous jobs to share. Also being I.T I get to wander round other offices and join in with their fun.

If anyone has any tips to liven up a boring office full of nerds let me know.
(Miggyman, Tue 13 Jan 2009, 22:19, 11 replies)

McDonalds
Working Sat night in McDonalds getting on for ooh, best part of 20 years ago, I used to deal with the inbetweeners. Those people that crave a burger between kicking out time and getting a taxi/going to a club.

Nice lot usually and one gets to know the regulars and have a jocular rapport. One late shift, I decided to entertain them by demonstrating the principle of centripetal force by winging half a bucket of water round and round over my head.

I got a cheer. The supervisor who thought she was god, was less impressed and came over to the tills to give me a telling off in front of the customers, with a hope of boosting her sense of dominance. Though this would probably get her bollocking from management for unprofessional conduct these days.

It backfired though as a half-dozen half-pissed customers boo'd her back into her office.

I filled a big bag with fries, give it to the group and told them they'd made my day.

The supervisor stayed in the office for the last 45mins of the shift.
( sandettie light vessel automatic New Twitter - @bollocksreally, Tue 13 Jan 2009, 22:04, 2 replies)

Bet on how long the sales and survey junkies will stay on hold for.
In a previous job, we'd get a lot of random people phoning up from all over the world trying to flog us computer stuff.

Eventually we got tired of the endless cold calling. Seriously i think someone put us on some spam list or something.

So we'd play a game.

"Hello, IT, this is Miggyman speaking"
(in strong foreign accent "Hello, My name is Badda Bungo calling from the company IT Solutions. We're conducting a survey of IT use in your business sector and was wondering if you could spare a few minutes of your time to answer a few questions?"
"Yes sure, although I will need to transfer you to the IT Manager. Just bear with me two minutes I'll put you through"
"Thank you very much"

Then bang him on hold. We'd all put a bet on and throw in 20p for how long they'll stay on hold. Closest wins. :)

Our phomes were great as you could see the hold light blinking, hang up and carry on as normal. They got a nice rendition of S Club 7s Greatest Hits to entertain them.

Usually theyd hang around for about 5 to 10 minutes before finally giving in and hanging up. Our record lad stayed on hold for a record of 45 minutes! Respect :D

You can then go double or quits to see if they'd call back or not. Of course if they do "Oh I'm sorry, must have lost you in the phone system. I'll transfer you again..." :D

Its a great game, you should all try it.
(Miggyman, Tue 13 Jan 2009, 22:03, 2 replies)

all day everyday
i read comics and see how near to orgasm i can get just by thinking about it. So far; no where near.
(Jacques Lally Honk has been beating wood since, Tue 13 Jan 2009, 21:49, 4 replies)