» Workplace Boredom

I work in a place
where we get through lots of envelopes. What do we do with the boxes that they came in? This:


(Thu 8th Jan 2009, 21:01, More)

» Too much information

I asked my Dad once what his day
at work was like.

"It was ok; we had to do some tightening repairs on this 50 year old homosexual's anus, because it had become too baggy from repeated sex, and his faeces were falling out."

I was 15.

Cheers Dad.
(Thu 6th Sep 2007, 10:57, More)

» Well, that taught 'em

Posting about posters...
Leeds Festival last year, the company I work for does all sorts of Festival advertising and one of the perks is getting to go to the festival for the weekend to photograph all the posters and see the bands.

I was lining up a shot of a Kooks poster when a teenager (couldn't be more than 16/17) grabbed a corner and tore most of the bottom half off, drunkenly declaring "the Kooks were shit". I went up, grabbed him by the shoulder, and asked him why he did that. He shot me a look of pure venom and said he hated the Kooks. I said there was no reason for him to tear the poster down, as it was my job. He then proclaimed me full of shit, and went back sniggering to his friends. Twat.

Anyway, an hour or so later, when I was minus camera and a couple of pints the heavier, I was walking past a bank of the posters, I saw the little cunt again, this time trying to tear down a GTA poster. By then it was obvious he was being a vandalising little shit, so I paced it over while he was still facing the other way.

I'll never quite know why I did what I did (more than likely it's a combination of reading too much Preacher and pure love of my job) but I grabbed his greasy locks and slammed his face into the poster bank (just once) and dropped him on the floor, in a crumpled heap with blood pissing out his nose.

I then found the nearest = security guard, flashed my staff pass and explained the situation. Glad of the excitement, he followed me over, stripped the now blubbing teen of his ticket and wristband and in front of his friends (who had idly stood by since the head v.s. board incident!) had him thrown out of the Festival.

That'll teach 'em.

Length? It's not big and it's not clever.
(Fri 27th Apr 2007, 11:01, More)

» Work Experience

Ahh - fantastic!
I thought, as we were expected to find our own place to do work experience. All the other kids were going on about how they knew Architects, Lawyers and Doctors and how they were going to have the best placement. We had to spend two days at our joint, before writing a report and preparing a presentation for the class.

So, while all the other kids were presumably coaxing a couple of days out of a lawyer/architect/doctor family friend I ambled next door to where I lived at the time. It was a lovely couple who lived there who owned their own business and were more than happy to take me on for the couple of days. My Mum and Dad were fine with it, they were an open minded bunch.

Back at School on the Wednesday, having spent a great couple of days taking photos, in the workshop, asking what certain things were for, and generally having a good time.

Presentations were due - I stepped up and cleared my throat. The title was "My Two Days at Feticular (name changed)"

Yes, I had spent my work experience at a supremely high end fetish store. Open mouths round the classroom, I doubt most of them even knew what fetish was (past whips and handcuffs) at 16, let alone electrified butt plugs and domination chairs.

I was dragged up in front of the Deputy Head, but I had done nothing wrong, so they had to let me go with a letter to my parents.
(Mon 14th May 2007, 13:50, More)

» I'm going to Hell...

I have a colleague
in the London office of my company who is without doubt one of the worst people I have ever had the misfortune of knowing.

She is devoid of any social skills, tact or humility. Her attitude towards people in general is frankly embarrassing; she looks down on everyone, belittles people for their ignorance (even though she is a fair few milk bottle tops short of a Blue Peter badge) and generally being a gigantic arse. She considers her job to be going to meet bands and going to industry parties whilst neglecting her real duties. She has a face like a smacked arse, with a gigantic hook nose, like a beak. She rubs other peoples faces in the fact she's doing all this by constantly updating her Facebook status saying "I'm going to meet so and so" or "I had such good fun backstage partying with Indiebandaufuckface".

Starting two years ago, I send a £5 pound note in a birthday card to her every year with the text "Here's some money toward the nosejob fund."

Totally petty, spiteful and arrogant. But she deserves it.
(Fri 12th Dec 2008, 9:15, More)