» Customers from Hell

The wanker
About a decade ago I used to work for an ISP that also ran a few of those dating lines, xxx lines etc. One of my fun jobs was to answer calls when the lonely souls checked for any new messages. This was ok, some nights were busier than others but free internet rudeness for your shift wasn't to bad. Until one fine night I answered a call on line 5, thing about line 5 was that it was a premium line costing a few bucks a min so i had to answer promptly and record the calls. On the other end I was greeted with a curious but regular tapping noise, the equalizer creating spikes on the screen in front of me, not allowed to hang up, i repeated my greeting to be met with slightly quicker tapping, I stay silent, for a couple of minutes before i notice the spikes on the EQ trail off and the call ending. Cool, methinks, i listen back to the final part of the call to see what was said as after a while i had turned the sound down on the noise. It was a man groaning as he had obviously just soiled his phone in my ear. Bastard masturbator. So anyhoo I had an amusing time ringing my mates and playing the final 20 seconds or so down the line to them and listening to the confused responses and horror at his happy phone ending..
People suck.
(Mon 8th Sep 2008, 1:57, More)

» Food sabotage

Apple Juice?
After a midnight run through the streets when i was 15 me and a couple of mates arrived back to his mum's house after being chased by a group of drunks. Safely inside, one of the mates that didn't reside there opened the fridge with the intent of imbibing a large amount of cold liquid. A tall glass jug of delicious looking apple juice sat wanly on the top shelf, joy thinks he as he necks about a pint's worth of recycled cooking oil his mum was storing. The look on his face as he realized what he had drunk was priceless, but the dog eating eating his oily spew as he produced it on the back porch was a joyous and always remembered occasion.
(Wed 24th Sep 2008, 7:23, More)

» Shit Stories: Part Number Two

Piles of Shite
So technically not mine but my friends, although I bore witness to the beginning. Anyway, a few mates had scored a house in inner Melbourne, one of those old joints with an antique outhouse. So bathroom fun took place far away from the living area. My mates were the typical 18yr old home leavers, dirty, drugged and not caring too much about hygeine. So it happens that after a huge turd in the crumbling toilet, it blocks, and said depositor thinks that a few drunken pisses will break up the dreadnought and hence make the faecal problem wash away. But no, the shite was of such thickness it refused to budge and so the 4 mates continued their daily offerings knowing full well that the ever growing, and stinking pile in their loo was getting out of control. Fast forward a week or two and the guys are getting nervous, the rim of the bowl has been breached and a cone of waste is peeking out from the armitage shanks like some degenerate trophy. So instead of rectifying the situation the boys take to shitting into plastic shopping bags in their room and then depositing them in the bin. Apparently cleaning wasn't an option. Fast forward another couple of weeks and some friends dropped in to do a bit of acid and drink. one went to ask for the bathroom and was met with furtive, nervous glances and a nod when the outdoor commode was mentioned. Cut to a drunk, tripping bogan/chav being presented with a rancid pile of shit & piss over reaching the rim of the seat, henceforth it was decorated with an icing of spew and written down in the history books of the lowest point of bachelor living. A few days later the plumber was called in and took one look at said foulness and told the occupants, clear that fuckin mess out of there and I will consider it. So a couple of shovels and a very smelly garbage night ensued and the poo factory was no more.... Hate to be the bin men that day.
(Sun 30th Mar 2008, 10:53, More)

» Sacked II

carbon dioxide
So, I asked for an apprenticeship at a place where I had been employed, everything was good, had a good 3 and a half years, did some stupid stuff with acetylene, had a mate swing me 4 metres in the air on a crane just for laughs, this was before all those safety ( can't get a job fucktards) entered our lives and had a laugh with the workshop. I was the resident fuck up, and being an apprentice, everything was overlooked, because I was an aforementioned apprentice.
So 3 months out of my time but still being in the mindset of an unsackable tradesman my work offered me the golden chalice of some dry ice.
Now for the non trade b3tans dry ice is frozen CO2, it makes things very cold, especially metal and there was a lot left over. So I purloined a handful of said icy career killer and got a mate and informed him of the fun to be had when you added it to my absent friends 1.25ltr water bottle that was a quarter filled. Ha ha ha I thought as I described the blowing off of the bottle top to the unknowingly coerced mate.
So I filled the bottle with 5 fingers of ice, he put the top on and we waited for the the pithy fun that would ensue.
5 minutes later, the bottle looked stressed, but didn't look like blowing it's top, we (I) got afraid and moved the boiling bottle into a safe area and told the blokes around us to take cover.
A couple of minutes later the most resounding boom ever heard by 99% of every human in existence occurred and my boss was 5 metres away around a corner, he rushed around and exclaimed, "What the fuck was that?".
If you are interested in chemistry you will know that carbon dioxide and water when it explodes creates nothing but steam which dissipated by the time he rounded the corner. But idiot me was the only person still working at his post when the most awesome thing to happen at work happened instead of cheering and saying what the fuck?.
So past history and them digging through bins and getting lagged by rubbish people, I got the sack.
(Sat 31st May 2014, 9:45, More)

» I Quit!

Diesel and acid don't mix
As a young neighbour, I was prone to the proclivities of the under 20's, drugs, booze, sex, and staying up till all hours of the week. At this time I was working as an ice cream slave churning out bucket loads of said product for the princely sum of 4 quid an hour. The fact that an 18yr old tripper that had a predilection for the nitrous oxide tank used to whip the cream (bulbs) was responsible for the entire shop's livelihood was lost on the alky fuckers that ran the soon to be doomed ship. So they thought that I was a good and willing serf for their plans to dominate yuppie ice cream land. But alas for them, I had lungfulls of N2O and a head full of various chemicals and spent my time in a haze at work and at home. This behaviour was not lost on my employers, especially when after a 3 day non sleeping acid filled bender i set off for work in my car. The "Red Beast" was a little low on fuel so i swang by the service station and proceeded to fill my tank with oily goodness. Unfortunately, I didn't realize that the strange metal cap over the nozzle indicated that the fuel inside was diesel, not very friendly to my petrol powered beast. So about halfway to work the car starts ghugging and producing a white smoke that obliterated sight in all 4 lanes behind me for the rest of the journey. I nursed the beast to work and pondered the strange situation when it dawned that i had spiked my own car. So as any drug addled soul would do i took the first logical thought that seeped into my head and tried to siphon the diesel out of my car. In n a drug addled state it probably wasn't the best of moves, I copped a lungful of stinky petrol/diesel, spilt it over my work uniform and staggered into work an hour late, red eyed , scattered and reeking of fuel which permeates the pristine environs of an ice cream shop like nothing else. My boss began a tirade at me and then the smell hit him and he asked what the fuck I was doing turning up to work in this state, I mumbled my predicament and his response was a chorus of denigration on my work ethic. So I said Fuck you, I quit and turned and caught the tram home to catch up on some much needed sleep. The next morning i was woken with a very subdued boss asking me to come back as i was the only person who knew how to make the very substance that the business depended on, so after a few minutes of ego boosting i agreed to come back to work albeit with a plan to do the worst job possible and empty the nitrous cylinder whilst on the payroll. I lasted a week. Then they sacked me. Ha
(Sat 24th May 2008, 12:30, More)