» Karma

It was a beautiful beautiful moment
Some years ago I was out of work for a while. Most of the people at the DSS were OK, punctuated by the odd cunt.

On one occasion and only one occasion I missed my signing on time, and popped in the net day, apologising for not being able to make it the previous day

Cunt: What's you excuse?

Me: Excuse!? I can tell you the reason if you like?

Cunt: Go on then.

Me: My 18 month old daughter was throwing up, I could have come in, but there would be sick everywhere.

Cunt: But you have to be available for work or interview.

Me: I am. If I had an interview I'd have arranged child care, but this was jut signing on.

Cunt: But you have to be available for work....

The cunt was in robot mode, and told me the next time my child was ill they'd stop my payments. Nice.

Anyway a few month later I'm an IT Support Manager and all is right with the world. 2 years later I'm interviewing for 4-5 new help desk people..you know what's coming.

In walks the cunt. I couldn't believe it. I actually had to make my excuses and leave the room for 5 minutes to calm down, and THANK THE LORD.

No doubt some others on here would have wreaked long winded and complicated revenge. I just explained to cunt that I was someone who'd been on the receiving end of her 'customer service skills' at the DSS and there wouldn't be a place for here. She demanded to know the details, but I told her 'I'm not going to waste my time on this' and ended the interview. All with a fucking huge grin on my face mind.

So there you have it. For those couple of minutes my universe was wonderful ordered place run by a benevolent divine power.
(Sat 23rd Feb 2008, 10:18, More)

» Being told off as an adult

I told someone off once
I was crossing the road at some traffic lights a while back. The driver at the front of the queue used the following technique.

1. Stare at the lights, only the lights, not around the lights, stare at the lights.
2. Accelerate hard on the ‘O’ of orange.

I had enough time to think ‘fu..’ before a I was on his bonnet and then as quickly dumped back on the road when he braked. Brilliant I thought as a stood up and inspected my cut hands...but I wasn’t angry.

Stood in front of the car I looked at the guy, he stared back impassively no sign of an apology...I still felt calm.

I decided to get on with my day, I gave the guy a barley perceptible shake of my head and turned to go. I felt proud I’d managed to keep it tight.

A movement caught my eye, he was pointing at the lights. Then he pointed at the lights again and waved his finger at me, telling me off for being on the road when the lights turned orange.

Did I tell you about my anger issues? I have two emotonal states. Perfectly calm and angrier than the angriest person you’ve ever seen. It’s not a red mist, it’s a deep dark well, a pitch black elevator with the cables cut. A frightening descent to a place where I have no control.

Or much memory.

But on this occasion I was with a work colleague who was able to tell me later what I’d done.

In short the guy got a rather server telling off. Screaming incoherently I leapt round to the side of the car, opened the door, removed the keys and threw them in some bushes, dragged him out of the car. Still not making any sense very loudly, I slammed him against the car a few times, held him around the throat for a while and generally led him to believe he was going to die. Then I bellowed at him;

“WHAT DO YOU DO?”

“WHAT DO YOU DO?”

Five or six times

“YOU WAIT FOR THE LIGHTS TO CHANGE, CHECK THE WAY IS CLEAR, THEN YOU PROCEED”

And threw him to the ground. I was a hundred yards up the road before I properly came to. My work mate gabbling about the fella shitting himself and me going psycho and getting ‘highway code on his arse’.
(Wed 26th Sep 2007, 14:59, More)

» Political Correctness Gone Mad

The thing about these PC gone mad stories
is 90% of them are not true – lies if you will – propagated by a predominatly right wing press. And the ones that do have an element of truth are almost invariably public sector middle management or teachers getting the wrong end of a policy stick and generally fucking up.

Political Correctness attracts people who are a bit thick (cross over into public sector middle management) because it gives them comforting absolutes that they don’t need to think about. It’s the same with ‘health and safety’, green policies etc etc, these all attract unthinking drones who use these ‘absolutes’ as ‘trump cards’ to gain control in situations they don’t have the knowledge or ability to do so any other way.

There is nothing to be gained by engaging an ‘absolutist’ in conversation. Just agree with everything they say and ignore them completely.
(Thu 22nd Nov 2007, 16:07, More)

» Bastard Colleagues

bastard shitter
I used to work for a very big company with the full gamut of personality traits available to delight me every day. My personal favourite was the unknown guy who was so proud of his turds he’d put them on display.

He’d build a solid unflushable base of toilette paper in the bowl, lay his turd on top, then close the lid to add to the surprise for the next user. Because the paper base was so high, when you opened the lid, for a split second, you got the impression the turd was leaping out at you.

Sometimes the turd would be a good solid British log, sometimes a more continental Mr Whippy affair, but the modus operandi remained constant for about six months. He then started to garnish his offerings. Perhaps a pencil stuck in the top like a little mast, a sprinkle of coloured paper clips and once a dandylion. It became so common place that on the occasion I'd come across one of his now rare plain turds I'd feel a little let down.
(Thu 31st Jan 2008, 9:06, More)

» Tightwads

Starvation
My mum is psychotically tight. Always has been always will be.

This example springs to mind.

When I was 8 years old, mother took me and my brother to see a demolition derby & stunt driving show. My dad was working, so he dropped us off at around 2pm and would be returning at 9pm to pick us up. There was an associated fun fair, but obviously there was no chance of getting a few pence for some rides, so we didn’t ask.

It was winter, and as the sun went down it got bleedin cold. By 6 pm lunch seemed a long way off and the cold accentuated the feeling of hunger. All around us people were tucking into steaming hot dogs, and warming their hands on hot drinks. The smell of all this food was driving me crazy, where ever I looked people where wolfing down greasy goodies.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I pleaded “Please mum, I’m starving! A hot dog, a bag of crisps anything, please!”
“Your dad will be here in a couple of hours and I can make you something at home” She replied.

“Please mum, I’m so hungry I feel sick, please”

“No”

I continued moaning halfheartedly, knowing it was futile. Then something amazing happened. She took her handbag from her shoulder and reached in. ‘She’s going for her purse…I don’t believe it…she’s going to buy some food…YES YES YES’. After rooting around in her bag for an age she triumphantly pulled out a single stick of slightly grubby looking Juicy Fruit gum. We had a third each and at the time it was the most miserable moment of my young life.
(Fri 24th Oct 2008, 18:09, More)