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This is a question Workplace Boredom

There's got to be more to your working day than loafing around the internet, says tfi049113. How do you fill those long, empty desperate hours?

(, Thu 8 Jan 2009, 12:18)
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This question is now closed.

Soft Toy Warfare
Before it got banned by the management, us office monkeys would alleviate the crushing boredom of helping consumers of our software product by hurling soft toys at each other.

Nothing like talking a Customer through a complex software configuration process while ducking every so often to avoid a flying BlackBerry or Cow. Fun times, though not so much fun if you have a full glass of water sat on your desk!
(, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 12:25, Reply)
Workplace Masturbation
Obviously not at your desk but in the bogs. Useful if you've got time on your hands...

Apologies if this has been mentioned before but I didn't get round to checking the other pages.
(, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 12:22, Reply)
This would go up
the week of my mid-probation review :(. Aside from sneaking off to the ladies' to read b3ta on my phone, and imagining comedy deaths for Stalker Girl since the gods decided she has to be a sales monkey here (currently favouring Nariko's finishing move from Heavenly Sword) read BBC news, add to the list of amusing names, letters and email addresses, or if really bored do something pointless like put the men in the office in preferential sexytiem order, or draw another sign for the back of my chair.
(, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 12:17, Reply)
When I'm bored in work
I like to post messages about my social networking gaffes 16 weeks late on a certain board concerning queries about a 7 day cycle
(, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 12:15, 2 replies)
I spend the whole week...

lying in waiting...

Planning the perfect time to submit the last post on the QotW.

Unfotunately, I always get it wrong.

(, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 12:10, 2 replies)
Intranet newsletters
In one of my many jobs, as an induction policy, every new recruit had to spend time in each department, learning the processes. At the same time, you were given a mentor, who would guide you through the complexities of the full process from order to completion.

I pulled the short straw. I ended up with Gerald, the office twunt. Gerald was the kind of guy who was everyone's mate, even though the office staff actually despised the guy and everything he did. He organised raffles that no-one entered. He organised parties and get-togethers that no-one attended yet he still didn't get the hint. A butt-clenchingly annoying, permanently cheery guy that everyone wanted to headbutt to death within 30 seconds of meeting.

My mentor.

For two months.

Yippee skip.

Gerald also ran the newsletter on the intranet. Daily updates that "had to be done by 3:00", fuck knows why. He'd fill this with the most trivial, banal, mind-crushingly boring stuff that you wanted to scoop your eyes out with spoons aftter reading one paragraph. Think "Hello/Heat/insert title of vacuous prole-fodder here" type of thing but with the stories about his fellow workers. Every minute detail was pored over by him as if life itself depended on it. I made the mistake of divulging my hobbies to him and ended up as front-page news every day for a week FFS! He'd actually ask colleagues every day whether they'd read it and take great affront if they said "No". He'd then regale the unfortunate with the juiciest titbits of that day's oeuvre, ignoring their desparate attempts to open a vein with anything to hand.

A month in, and I was actually helping him with his newsletter, setting it up, suggesting headlines (ahem, in a post-modern ironic manner, obviously) etc. One monday he came to me and said he'd had some grave news, the years of smoking had finally got to him. He was scheduled for a full laryngectomy the next day.
I was stunned, he really was a twunt but this was far, far more retribution than I'd ever really wished on him. He asked me to announce it in the newsletter, once he'd successfully come out of surgery. He'd written himself an achingly saccharine-sweet,self-pitying article about his "struggle", his "deternination to fight this disease" and "help others in the same boat". It was awful but I was a bit stunned to notice.
That day was surreal as he didn't "do his rounds" chatting to all and sundry but he still tried to be funny. I even laughed once or twice.

The next day I rang the hospital about twenty times before getting the news that he'd made it out of surgery but they'd had to remove his whole larynx and thyroid. He was expected to make a good recovery. I pulled up the article and took the paragraphs he'd highlighted to be used "in case of survival". It was already formatted but I had to think of a suitable headline. Not too tacky, not too heroic. Tasteful but which would give the right emotional impact.

Then it came to me.


(, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 11:40, 5 replies)
So yeah
I used to work for Babestation and the various other show's within that company, cue work hour's that could be anywhere from 10am to 5am.

The best loafing I've ever done was to actually make a video of the crew ripping the girls to pieces, unfortunately since it's been uploaded to youtube one of the guy's in the video made me take it down.

"anyone wants to see it" Add Djnes to your youtube friends :P

Length? about 6 minutes.
(, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 11:31, 4 replies)
Word to the wise
Managers of Martins the Newsagents.

Do not stack the unsold magazines that are waiting to be sent back to the distributor next to the staff toilet.

Not unless you want your 17 years old, horny, bored cashier to be sneaking off to grab unsold wank mags and pleasuring himself on an hourly basis.

I probably should have told you sooner, but I was having too much fun.
(, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 11:08, 2 replies)
I used to
Do this in employers businesses when I left or was leaving, but have now started doing it in the company I work for. I shit in the toilet cistern rather than the bowl for no other reason except it amuses me.
(, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 9:40, 48 replies)
There's huge scrapyard down the road where the staff seem to have fun.
Incidentally, it was in the news a few years ago when it suspiciously caught fire and during the clean-up, a murder victim's body was found in the boot of a car.

A more relevant story concerns the powered hang glider someone scrapped off.

As it seemed intact it was placed with other good stuff in a hangar-sized warehouse, where staff naturally messed with it.

It started first time, dragged about six blokes along, then briefly took off, turned and slammed them all into a wall 10' above the ground.

No digital cameras/mobiles in those days. Pity.
(, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 9:26, Reply)
I had a brief stint working for the Forestry Commission…

...and I would busy myself looking at all the different animals, plantlife and wotnot.

One day whilst doing my rounds, I saw something that staggered me beyond belief, so I called the ranger and asked him to see me urgently.

When he arrived, I directed him towards a clearing…where snuffling around the picnic area there was a huge male wild pig wearing a dog-tag that said ‘Dominic’. He was completely clad in a fabric of fine linen, silk, & cotton threads...ornamented with figures as if it was fashioned from ladies’ petticoats or something. He was also wearing a baseball hat that was spinning around on top of his head as if it had a mind of it own.

Perplexed, I enquired: “What the blithering fuck is THAT?”

“Oh, don’t worry”, he replied. “That’s just the ‘Whirr-cap lace boar, Dom’”.


(, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 9:23, 5 replies)
Zumf's post down there reminded me of this..
A while ago, bored at work, I ordered a pack of stick on, goggly eyes from ebay. When they arrived, I went round my desk giving everything eyes:
We're watching you!CFB!
(, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 8:43, 7 replies)
F5, F5, F5, F5.

This is what I do on a Thursday.
(, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 8:32, 1 reply)
"lasers" and hair
I work at a highly respected US Institution, surrounded by highly expensive machines, things that use "lasers" and require you to wear a white lab coat in their presence. One of my favorite bits of kit is the scanning electron microscope (no lasers for you pedants out there), the machine often used for taking those fab close-ups of insects or pollen grains or other tiny things. So, I get paid to take funky pictures of scientific things, but if I get bored, I can put other stuff in there. You'd be amazed at what pubes look like at 10 000x magnification...

(working in a highly respected US Institution means I can't access b3ta at work. yah boo sucks)
(, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 4:25, 5 replies)
A few years ago I used the random number function on MS Excel to create a simple Countdown numbers game. A few random numbers including one out of 25, 50, 75 and 100, and then a random three digit number...then I'd time myself to try and make the number. And if anyone asked what I was doing I'd say I was calculating profit margins or something.

I tried to make Yahtzee too, but it didn't really work.
(, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 3:20, 1 reply)
Cup tinkering boredom
A while ago I was working for a (now bust, and deservingly so) greetings card company. I was a lowly photoshop monkey and my job was basically to take existing designs and rejig them slightly so they could milk the most out of the original artist's work (eg. This is a cute bear. We want a christmas bear. Add a santa hat to the bear. Re-tint the bear pink. Mirror the bear, etc...) Pretty dull stuff.

As shitty Nescafe machine coffee was the highlight of my days, I'd find creative things to do with my cups with tippex, permenant markers and googly eyes (greetings card place so they were available) This was my crowning achievement:

(, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 1:45, 3 replies)
My Work
Involves living and working in the same room, of course this does get rather claustrophobic, especially as 15 hours of my day are spent on the internet (thank Jesus Horrace Christ for Tabbed Browsing!)

When boredom strikes - I make tea, Sweep the floor and/or roll cigarettes for my boss and I.

I also prepare texts in Microsoft Word, ready to send on Carboard Fish - (and lately, it seems that I am not the only one, as it is more often than not busy.)
I've gotten quite good at this, I can be writing a letter, and can slip two sentences into it very subtly and cut it, ready for when I have a minute free in the office.

As I help manage the company website, it is essential to always have a copy of one of the pages loaded in its HTML form, it really does look a lot more complicated than it actually is, so a swift Alt + Tab and mashing on the arrow buttons usually suffices to make me look busy, should a figure of authority walk through the door.

That, and a quick refresh of b3ta to see what I'm missing - and it's always more interesting than work. Haven't been caught on here so far, yet. Touch wood.

That, or prat around on the companies Live Webcam

Apologies for length + boringness, familiarity.
(, Wed 14 Jan 2009, 22:49, Reply)
Yawny really
The usual I guess......

Trying to slip naughty words into conversations on calls to VIPs (I say VIPs, I really just mean jumped up idiots with universe sized egos)..... Theres something really satisfying about slipping the word "Foof" into a conversation about someones very important medical details! Yes, Foof.

And then theres wheely chair wars!! It involves sitting your slightly less intelligent work mates to chairs and pushing them as fast as you can across the office and seeing who hits the wall at the other end first!!

I mean, OBVIOUSLY I am faaaar too busy doing incredibly important things for any of these types of things... Cough
(, Wed 14 Jan 2009, 20:32, Reply)
Ian, the office donkey
This is about the pranks we used to do on Ian, for he was the squeezy toy of boredom for which we used to cheer up the workplace.

Back in the old computer shop again and out in the back office there was a shop land line and a fax line setup, which were seperated by about 6 foot of space and a desk partition (which hid the office desk and fax machine out of view). At the end of the day we'd lock up the shop and sort out anything that needs to be done in this office (filing 2nd hand games, sort out the money etc). The manager is at the desk balancing the till and the assistant manager is chatting away to him. Me, Ian and Chris are clearing up the last of the filing when the shop phoneline starts ringing.
Ian picks it up. "Hi you're through to ******, Ian speaking, how can I help?"
The line goes dead, and Ian goes nuts.
"Guys, someone just rung up and told me to fuck off!!!! I'm not having that!" He starts dialling 1471 and listens for the number. Me and Chris glance over to the manager, who has ducked down behind the office partition. He's pissing himself laughing, as the assistant manager places the phone back onto the fax machine.
Ian's still going off on one. "I'm calling the police, that's abuse that is!"
It took us two minutes to stop the daft cunt from calling them.

Another thing we done, which was again invented after a conversation with the assistant manager was a craze which was happening to students on this guy's course at uni. The craze was simply to say one sentence as an answer to anything mentioned by a particular student. But say it in a ridiculous monotone eg "Can I borrow some milk please?" "THE HORSES, THEY RIDE THE WIND!" and use that answer for absolutely everything for as long as possible.
With Ian, we managed the sentence "THE CAT, SAT ON, THE, WALL" for 1 year and 2 months. Halfway through it he started threatening us with violence; we even said it in front of customers when he was after some info for them. Drove him bonkers :)

Ian had a habit of getting Mars bars and leaving them about the workplace before eating them. He was also very defensive of anyone touching his Mars bar, after I "accidentally" picked it up and ate it, then left 40p on the spot where he'd left it. "What, I asked you to pick one up for me from the shop earlier, I thought that was it." We've masking taped it solid to a wall, covered it in black ink, turned them into playdoh.
We locked him in the shop window display and stuck a sign outside saying "Please do not feed the animals", locked him in the work safe (it was a walk-in safe, we didn't stuff him into a box), locked him in the toilet for 1/2 hour, hid gay porn in his locker and got the boss to walk past Ian as he opened it, much to the delight of the rest of the staff as the manager screamed "Oh god, you got a gay cock mag in here!!!!!" (which was heard by every customer in the store at the time). I know we did more, just can't remember the rest thankfully.
We were a right bunch of cunts to him. Errr, soz matey.
(, Wed 14 Jan 2009, 19:17, 1 reply)
I used to work as a lifeguard in a water park in torbay - there's only one, so you'll know which.

Endlessly saying 'go ... go... go...no you can't jump off the devils drop...go...' in the blazing heat of the sun on a steel tower with no shade does funny things to your mind.


A sign on the footbath saying it was actually a special 'gofaster wax' imported from the US, and if you coated your whole body in it you'd go down the slides faster.

Standing in the slide first thing in the morning before the water came on, and then running away from it like some kind of tsunami.

Rolling pennies down non-working slides to see how far they'd go.

Sending partially melted Mars bars down the slide so the lifeguard at the bottom would think it was a turd.

'Forgetting' to tell attractively-large breasted women in bikinis to cross their arms on the fast slides, so they'd be topless by the time they got to the bottom.

Standing strategically to the side of the launch ramp, where you could see straight down a bikini top, and not saying 'go' for as long as possible.

If asked to look after someones camera, immediatly take a pic of someones arse as soon as they go down a slide.

Go down slides in rubber dinghys like a toboggan crew...

It was all fun and games until someone died.
No really, they died. Heart attack on the slide, lost conciousness, and was dead by the time they got to the bottom.

Still, we got to go home early that day.
(, Wed 14 Jan 2009, 18:39, 5 replies)
Im so fucking bored I could cry. Im too bored to finish an application form for another job. It is here in front of me, and is asking for details of any courses Ive been on. I have that information but it is in the other office. It's a 10yd walk, I cant be arsed.
(, Wed 14 Jan 2009, 18:22, 3 replies)
I try to avoid going for a poo at work in the morning...

It's not that I have some kind of aversion to a workplace defecation scenario, quite the opposite after all you save money on water bills & toilet paper, plus as a bonus you're paid to do it.

No, my aversion to a morning dump at work is that if I did I'd have nothing to look forward to in the afternoon.

On the other hand, on those occasions of too much coffee or a few too many beers the night before, well then I try to just kinda do half a poo.... so I can go back later in the day and finish it off.

How bored must I be when walking to the loo for a dump is something to look forward to?

Length? Varies with diet.
(, Wed 14 Jan 2009, 17:43, 7 replies)
DIY Evenings
Once upon a many moon ago I used to work in a DIY Store (Name is the same as a popular German produced British car)(OK It's Focus).

Evening shifts were long and dull, 5pm till 8pm the store was virtually empty - nothing that the till monkeys couldn't sort out. The sorts of things that used to take up our "valuable" time.

Using the matress storage area way up on the racking as a trampoline, and rodeo surfing.

Wheelchair racing through the aisles (luckily CCTV didn't work, we'd get bollocked if caught!)

Pallet truck racing (similar vein to above but without the guilt) - once knocked over a LOT of wood paint doing this, cleaning that up occupied a bit of my time!

Christmas evening shifts were even better, we'd get deliveries of different types of childs toy to sell. In our case we tested them to make sure they worked. This entailed of me, the supervisor, and two colleagues out the back of the warehouse area chucking a light up LED frisbee around. Doing the same in the car park but getting it stuck fully illuminated on the roof. Every evening shift for the next week was met with stifled laughter as the manager asked what the hell went on.

RC Car racing around the seasonal display area. No more to say really.

After a while, I was "promoted" to information desk monkey, where all sorts of new timewasters could be played. There were two phones and a computer on the desk - the phones had different extensions and were on opposite sides of the desk. Going to lunch one of the girls had to cover for me, so much hilarity ensued when I dialled one of the extensions from the managers office (phone labelled "Nut House"), when she got over to that phone, hang up and dialled the other phone. I managed that around 8 or 9 times before she clocked!

Asking the shop floor workers to find legendary items was a good timewaster too. Skirting board ladder, glass hammer etc etc.

Being in a DIY store we had good access to a range of tools and DIY memorabilia. Off I trot to get a length of chain, a till roll, and two hooks, and proceeded to create a "till roll toilet style dispenser" which I believe was still in place when tesco took over

A lot of other timewasting was had in that place, too much to list here.

Sorry if it wasn't funny enough, and for length etc, I haven't posted here much!
(, Wed 14 Jan 2009, 17:38, Reply)
oh shit oh shit oh shit
Well its almost home time and I am bored shitless as usual so I decide to go and have a pee, as you do.

I finish my pee and then for no reason whatsoever look around the room for ways to cause mischief. It's not a small cubible, but a regular sized toilet with a radiator, sink and all the modern day office toilet gadgets.

So - I outstretch my arms and find I can touch both sides of the room, comfortably - then decide in a moment of sheer genius/stupidity to see if I can shimmy up and touch the ceiling. Well that was a bad move - a very very bad move.

Next thing I know, I am using the radiator as a foot hold to get myself up, touching both sides of the wall and just as I was about to touch the ceiling the fucking radiator broke.. I slipped and put my arm through the seemingly paper thin bloody wall.

I really should have known this would have happened seen as to put it in no uncertain terms - I am a fat bastard. Now it would seem my title has been upgraded to 'stupid' fat bastard and HOPEFULLY one that will not get found out!!

What a cock.
(, Wed 14 Jan 2009, 17:22, 9 replies)
Trainee breakdancer
One day in an ol' computer games shop I used to work in there was only me and one of the other wind-up lads in the store named Chris. Both of us were a bit bored; we'd played nearly all the games in the store on the demo machines and had finished all the chores early on. Also it was a tuesday morning and there was no customers in the shop. Quiestest part of the week.
Chris was a bit of (and to my knowledge still is) a rave junkie and stuck on one of his Dreamscape CDs on the player. Music blasting, there was only one thing we could do (other than gay bumsex, and we just weren't into that). That's right. IMPROMPTU BREAKDANCE FACEOFF!!!! Chris dives over the counter, starts bopping, then does an attempted spin on the floor, both of us pissing ourselves at his lame effort. Then, Jeccy's go. I leap over the counter and duck down doing some stupid kicking thang while laughing, then spin around on my head, legs flailing like a flamingo in a car crash.
Unknown to me at the time however, a small child had walked in the store and was walking around a shelf towards where I was spinning. He come around the corner and my size 9 foot stopped millimetres from his head, literally swooping past his nose like a burgervan driving past a fatclub.
I flew back upto my feet, quick glance, no-one else here and leggit behind the counter. The kid, stunned by the almost-twattage legs it out of the shop too. I glance down to find Chris, who is currently under the shop counter turning purple with fits of stifled laughter, crying with glee. Bastard, but I can't really blame him tbh.
With that, the front door opens and the kid and his mum come in. I hear the kid say "Mom, that's him." Great. I manage not to react at all to this statement, which most probs helped alot. She comes over to me and I end up selling them a Playstation, all the while with the kid asking "Mom, ask him about it" and the mum saying "Keep it down, mum's getting it, be patient."
I won't go near a dancemat now, let alone attempt to breakdance.....damn my lanky limbs!
(, Wed 14 Jan 2009, 16:50, Reply)
I pass the time by having phenomenally long lunch breaks…

Mostly I go to the pub, but today I went to McDonalds.

After masticating my BigYack and Mcslurry ® I went to use the facilities. As I entered the area I spied a spotty oik member of staff mongingly mopping up a gargantuan puddle of various vomit and effluence from the toilet floor.

On the back of his uniform T-Shirt were written the words ‘I’m lovin’ it’

I'll tell you something...it didn't fucking well look like he was...
(, Wed 14 Jan 2009, 16:48, 2 replies)
If you have a the internet at work...
And a computer at home you'd like to dip in to go to logmein.com and setup a free account. Install the free software on your home computer then at work log in to the site and you can then use your home computer remotely while you're at work.

It's actually super easy and you don't have to install any software on the work computer.

I check on any downloads, organise my files and potter about on my home PC while at work. I've also put the free software on my familys computers so I can dip in and help them when needed.

Other than that the internet in general helps kill my boredom at work.
(, Wed 14 Jan 2009, 16:46, 6 replies)

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