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» Accidental animal cruelty
First Post. Woo!
My auntie had recently bought a new car. It was only a fiesta or something equally as nondescript, but it was brand new and she had bought it all on her own, so she was very proud of it. And the fact that she could go along the country roads by her house around 60mph (they were bendy).
Anyways, around a month or so after she bought said car it was a hot and sunny day, so rather than waste petrol on running the air-con, she rolled down her window, and the passenger window.
Being the countryside, there were all manner of birds about, and a rather cocky pheasant decided it was going to fly past the car, and missed.
It flew straight into the passenger side window. It bludgeoned itself on the side of my aunt, who drove the car into a field, screaming and crying as a dying bleeding pheasant flailed around the passenger seat spreading blood and feathers everywhere.
Phesant died, aunt went to hospital with the injuries, the car had to be valeted about five times by different people who could not get the smell of pheasant out of everything. She sold the car for a fraction of what she paid for it, and it had to have a whole new interior fitted. She hasn't driven since.
(Thu 6th Dec 2007, 15:32, More)
First Post. Woo!
My auntie had recently bought a new car. It was only a fiesta or something equally as nondescript, but it was brand new and she had bought it all on her own, so she was very proud of it. And the fact that she could go along the country roads by her house around 60mph (they were bendy).
Anyways, around a month or so after she bought said car it was a hot and sunny day, so rather than waste petrol on running the air-con, she rolled down her window, and the passenger window.
Being the countryside, there were all manner of birds about, and a rather cocky pheasant decided it was going to fly past the car, and missed.
It flew straight into the passenger side window. It bludgeoned itself on the side of my aunt, who drove the car into a field, screaming and crying as a dying bleeding pheasant flailed around the passenger seat spreading blood and feathers everywhere.
Phesant died, aunt went to hospital with the injuries, the car had to be valeted about five times by different people who could not get the smell of pheasant out of everything. She sold the car for a fraction of what she paid for it, and it had to have a whole new interior fitted. She hasn't driven since.
(Thu 6th Dec 2007, 15:32, More)
» Bad Management
By old boss was a genuine wanker
I worked for a very brief stint in a 'new media' start up. Basially, a dance music internet radio station with a poncy name. Because I had the ability to google "how to internet radio" and the guy who got the venture capital was a friend of a friend, I became a "head of technology" with basically fuck all by way of experience or qualifications. Learnt a lot on the go, and it was pretty relaxed and fun.
Once, when fixing a problem in one of the 'studios' (a cupboard with a PC, a couple of cheap mics and an even cheaper mixing desk), I noticed that the internet history was full of porn. Hmmm, someone is wanking in the studio. Nasty, but whatever. I don't really care. I forgot about it soon after wiping the desk, keyboard and chair down with wet wipes.
Fast forward a couple of weeks, at one of our "tech reviews", basically all the DJs and the owner give me a list of features that they want and I make up reasons why it's too expensive/impossible to save me from actually doing anything. The boss asks if we can set up a webcam (having just overturned a more or less unanimous demand to be able to take callers on air because the kit costs about £1000, and I can't be arsed finding it and getting it to work with the dodgy panasonic telephone system we have in the 'office') I decide to throw him a bone and do some work.
About three weeks after I'd installed the webcam the boss realised that paying 40 odd DJs, and half a dozen heads of department (friends of friends with less experience in their field than me) was unsustainable on internet radio advertising money. So he decided that he can stop paying everyone if he turns it into a 'community radio' station. All the DJs were told they would be sacked as soon as someone could be found who would do their show for free (wierdos and kids from a couple of local colleges, who were usually better than the proffessional DJs they replaced).
Cheeky fucker tells me that I would have to take a pay cut, but it would be fine because I was now "giving something back" (note, he is taking home shitloads more now, not having to pay anyone). I promptly tell him to shove it up his arse.
Fast forward a couple of months, and all the college kids he had doing the shows for free were removed by their school, due to the place being "an unsuitable enviroment for minors". I get asked back, on my old rate. I had no intention of going back, but I did ask why all the kids wern't allowed to go any more. I found out from one of the old department heads who stayed on that the dumb fucker had forgotten that there were webcams in both studios, and was caught furiously bashing one out by the head teacher of one of the schools who had decided to check up on what her students were doing in the next room.
(Fri 11th Jun 2010, 21:57, More)
By old boss was a genuine wanker
I worked for a very brief stint in a 'new media' start up. Basially, a dance music internet radio station with a poncy name. Because I had the ability to google "how to internet radio" and the guy who got the venture capital was a friend of a friend, I became a "head of technology" with basically fuck all by way of experience or qualifications. Learnt a lot on the go, and it was pretty relaxed and fun.
Once, when fixing a problem in one of the 'studios' (a cupboard with a PC, a couple of cheap mics and an even cheaper mixing desk), I noticed that the internet history was full of porn. Hmmm, someone is wanking in the studio. Nasty, but whatever. I don't really care. I forgot about it soon after wiping the desk, keyboard and chair down with wet wipes.
Fast forward a couple of weeks, at one of our "tech reviews", basically all the DJs and the owner give me a list of features that they want and I make up reasons why it's too expensive/impossible to save me from actually doing anything. The boss asks if we can set up a webcam (having just overturned a more or less unanimous demand to be able to take callers on air because the kit costs about £1000, and I can't be arsed finding it and getting it to work with the dodgy panasonic telephone system we have in the 'office') I decide to throw him a bone and do some work.
About three weeks after I'd installed the webcam the boss realised that paying 40 odd DJs, and half a dozen heads of department (friends of friends with less experience in their field than me) was unsustainable on internet radio advertising money. So he decided that he can stop paying everyone if he turns it into a 'community radio' station. All the DJs were told they would be sacked as soon as someone could be found who would do their show for free (wierdos and kids from a couple of local colleges, who were usually better than the proffessional DJs they replaced).
Cheeky fucker tells me that I would have to take a pay cut, but it would be fine because I was now "giving something back" (note, he is taking home shitloads more now, not having to pay anyone). I promptly tell him to shove it up his arse.
Fast forward a couple of months, and all the college kids he had doing the shows for free were removed by their school, due to the place being "an unsuitable enviroment for minors". I get asked back, on my old rate. I had no intention of going back, but I did ask why all the kids wern't allowed to go any more. I found out from one of the old department heads who stayed on that the dumb fucker had forgotten that there were webcams in both studios, and was caught furiously bashing one out by the head teacher of one of the schools who had decided to check up on what her students were doing in the next room.
(Fri 11th Jun 2010, 21:57, More)
» I Quit!
Not me, but a good story nonetheless
I used to work as a cash office supervisor in a shitty overpriced supermarket chain. I temped a bit in a shop about half an hour from mine, because half the management had to be suspended when about three grand went missing out the safe, but whatever.
This place had a pay & display car park outside, and the attendant, can't remember the name, was allowed to use the shops break room/lockers/staff toilets/etc. He seemed like a sound enough bloke, only spoke to him a couple of times when he told all the shop staff he was going to walk out at the end of the week because he had had enough ticketing old biddies cars who didn't have the brains to remember what time they parked. (parking was farmed out to a private contractor, so no-one cared).
Friday came round, and the bloke turns up in a long-wheel base transit, One of the lifetime supermarket employees shouts "[insert attendants name here] is at it again, come look!" So me and half the staff wander over to watch the scene unfolding outside.
The transit was full of clamps and the guy was randomly clamping every car he could as fast as he could. He already had a good number done when we started watching him, and he had some guy in a suit trying to persuade him to take the clamp off his car. The attendant was eerily serene, completely failing to acknowledge that this guy even existed. Just working around the guy As he pressed on, the suit got more and more irate, and louder. After about 10 to 15 mins the suit was screaming down the attendants ear, as he carried on clamping cars. They guy just completely ignored him. I mean screaming, spittle flying, swearing and insulting this guys family, the works. By this time word had got round, and there was a crowd of onlookers watching this guy clamp cars.
Eventually the attendant gets into his own car (which apparently he left the night before and got a taxi home) and fucks off. The car park company did come out and remove all the clamps about an hour or so later, apologising profusely.
Apparently this attendant had had two previous incidents, one where he smashed the company transit (different to the one he bought with him) into the back of the shop loading bay, and one where he emptied all the machines and threw the change all over the car park. According to the shop staff he always came back after about three weeks, working for the same company, doing the same job, and they expected him back again!
(Mon 26th May 2008, 22:19, More)
Not me, but a good story nonetheless
I used to work as a cash office supervisor in a shitty overpriced supermarket chain. I temped a bit in a shop about half an hour from mine, because half the management had to be suspended when about three grand went missing out the safe, but whatever.
This place had a pay & display car park outside, and the attendant, can't remember the name, was allowed to use the shops break room/lockers/staff toilets/etc. He seemed like a sound enough bloke, only spoke to him a couple of times when he told all the shop staff he was going to walk out at the end of the week because he had had enough ticketing old biddies cars who didn't have the brains to remember what time they parked. (parking was farmed out to a private contractor, so no-one cared).
Friday came round, and the bloke turns up in a long-wheel base transit, One of the lifetime supermarket employees shouts "[insert attendants name here] is at it again, come look!" So me and half the staff wander over to watch the scene unfolding outside.
The transit was full of clamps and the guy was randomly clamping every car he could as fast as he could. He already had a good number done when we started watching him, and he had some guy in a suit trying to persuade him to take the clamp off his car. The attendant was eerily serene, completely failing to acknowledge that this guy even existed. Just working around the guy As he pressed on, the suit got more and more irate, and louder. After about 10 to 15 mins the suit was screaming down the attendants ear, as he carried on clamping cars. They guy just completely ignored him. I mean screaming, spittle flying, swearing and insulting this guys family, the works. By this time word had got round, and there was a crowd of onlookers watching this guy clamp cars.
Eventually the attendant gets into his own car (which apparently he left the night before and got a taxi home) and fucks off. The car park company did come out and remove all the clamps about an hour or so later, apologising profusely.
Apparently this attendant had had two previous incidents, one where he smashed the company transit (different to the one he bought with him) into the back of the shop loading bay, and one where he emptied all the machines and threw the change all over the car park. According to the shop staff he always came back after about three weeks, working for the same company, doing the same job, and they expected him back again!
(Mon 26th May 2008, 22:19, More)
» IT Support
Along time ago.
I "do the computer stuff" in the office where my Nan volunteers. They go out and help retired service people filling out grant forms and stuff.
Anyway, this was in the days before the smoking ban and all the old geezers who worked there smoked like chimleys all the time in the office, and I had asthma and an overprotective Nan, so I would have to be announced before I could go in so all the old fuckers could stub out. This had the undesired consequence that whenever I went in I was the center of attention, everyone looking at me and silently cursing me for interupting their everlasting fag break.
So I get a call saying the computer is dead (they only had three, all the actual filing and stuff was done in a set of massive filing cabinets, with files dating back to people who were in their eighties in the seventies). Okay, I'll come down tomorrow.
Head down, and the machine is dead. Utterly dead. Doesn't work at all. No power, nothing. So I faff around for a bit, and decide, not really knowing what I'm doing, but not wanting to look like an idiot in front of the old colnel watching what I was doing, and hope for the best.
The problem soon became apparent. I had to explain to the old feller who sat on the other side of the desk to the computer (it was one of the old flat style ones with the monitor on top of the PC) that the fan slots in the back of the machine do not make a great substitute for an ashtray. Even if it is just now and then when the ashtray is full any you're too busy to go empty it.
(Thu 24th Sep 2009, 16:33, More)
Along time ago.
I "do the computer stuff" in the office where my Nan volunteers. They go out and help retired service people filling out grant forms and stuff.
Anyway, this was in the days before the smoking ban and all the old geezers who worked there smoked like chimleys all the time in the office, and I had asthma and an overprotective Nan, so I would have to be announced before I could go in so all the old fuckers could stub out. This had the undesired consequence that whenever I went in I was the center of attention, everyone looking at me and silently cursing me for interupting their everlasting fag break.
So I get a call saying the computer is dead (they only had three, all the actual filing and stuff was done in a set of massive filing cabinets, with files dating back to people who were in their eighties in the seventies). Okay, I'll come down tomorrow.
Head down, and the machine is dead. Utterly dead. Doesn't work at all. No power, nothing. So I faff around for a bit, and decide, not really knowing what I'm doing, but not wanting to look like an idiot in front of the old colnel watching what I was doing, and hope for the best.
The problem soon became apparent. I had to explain to the old feller who sat on the other side of the desk to the computer (it was one of the old flat style ones with the monitor on top of the PC) that the fan slots in the back of the machine do not make a great substitute for an ashtray. Even if it is just now and then when the ashtray is full any you're too busy to go empty it.
(Thu 24th Sep 2009, 16:33, More)