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Bilking bills (00000100)
0 comments
2.9/5 (148 Votes)
After getting bilked on the bill for several computer repairs I did for private customers, I started making a DVD backup up each computer's internet browser cache files and cookies. When a customer failed to pay me on time, a simple phone call to the customer saying that I had their internet history on a disk and would be happy to share it with their spouse got me my money within a day nine out of ten times.

When the missing man, thinking he had balls of brass, cursed at me and said that he didn't care, his wife knew all about his sexual habits. This was true: his videos of himself in women's lingerie included his wife as well. So I e-mailed him a copy of his entire e-mail contact list, asking, "Do all your friends and family know as well?" He promptly paid up as well.

Posted on 20.04.2011, 18:56:50 CET
Place: Denver, CO
Extra morning flavor (00000095)
0 comments
2.9/5 (178 Votes)
I get to the office an hour before my boss, at least once a week for the last two years I've been peeing just a little bit into his coffee mug. I have never seen him rinse it out before filling up in the morning.

Posted on 22.02.2011, 16:46:04 CET
Place: Newport Beach, CA
Summer Vacation with Friends (00000091)
2 comments
2.9/5 (146 Votes)
This summer, I (m) wanted to fly off to vacation with a couple of former school buddies. I kept asking and asking when we would all drive to the travel agent together to book it. They kept giving me vague answers, that sometime, soon, we would. When I then asked them about it again at one point, they told me that they'd already booked 2 weeks before – just for the two of them. They "supposedly" had forgotten to tell me. Fine. Right away the next day I drove alone to the travel agent and was still able to book something for myself. Booking a single cost about 300-400 Euros more. Same flight there, but a different hotel and return flight than those two fools. Now they have the nerve to ask if I can give them a ride to the airport on the day of departure. The plane will be taking off shortly before 5 a.m, which means that there will be no trains running. It's about a two hour drive to the airport, and the pair lives 25 km in the opposite direction. When I raised the subject of gas money, all I heard from their side was, "Can't you make an exception? We're really short of cash. Please, we don't have any other way to get to the airport." I was already boiling inside, but I answered: "Well, all right, I won't be a hard ass about it." I hope they don't find their own transportation – I've had enough of their shenanigans, and I'm not going to play the fool any longer. That's why I'm not going to pick them up, but let them stand around at home while I drive to the airport alone. I'm hoping they miss the flight. If they ask why, I'll simply say "I forgot."

Posted on 23.03.2011, 04:09:37 CET
Toothpricked (00000090)
4 comments
2.9/5 (347 Votes)
When I was six, my father died of cancer and we, my mother, my two sisters and I, had to make it on our own. It wasn't easy to start with, but life went on and it was good. That is, until my mother met another man; I had just turned eight. He was a carpenter and, as often happened in his line of work, had two fingers missing on each hand. That did not make a trust-inspiring impression on a kid at the first meeting. I was afraid of him and very standoffish. It may seem like it's childishly naïve or mean to let oneself by upset by such things, but fairly soon it turned out that the first impression hadn't been wrong. His external appearance wasn't nearly as hateful as his interior. He was married, and, because his wife had money, he didn't want a divorce (thank God). But he wanted my mother anyway, and so she gave in to a three-way. To top it all, he was a terrible despot, saw himself as the head of the family and always took the seat at the head of the table as if rightfully his. That this presumption could hurt him sometime apparently never dawned on him. There were a lot of arguments with my older sisters, with a lot of shouting and even some physical stuff. I never said anything about it. I was a quiet child who had not emerged from himself yet, in part to avoid stress, of course. Because of the way I acted, I was "good child" as far as he was concerned; one evening he opined that I should call finally call him "Pop". But I refused, and told him, in these exact words: "You can kiss my ass." An expression that I never used, but felt it was justified under the circumstances. He started yelling instantly and my mother actually took his side, so I had to go to my room. That's when the hate started. I was only eight years old but felt pure hatred in my heart. So I decided he would be punished. Really punished. In our kitchen we had as seating a padded corner bench; there was always a small box stuffed with toothpicks on the table. Revenge would be easy, since I knew that the fat carpenter, without looking, would let himself fall onto the seat. My mother was fixing supper; I pretended to play with the toothpicks, but took one and stuck in the middle of the corner seat's padding, exactly on the hated guy's spot. I put the other toothpicks back in the box, went to my room and waited. My mother called us to the evening meal; I stayed in my room, listening. There was a fairly loud crack, followed instantly by a roaring yell. As you might expect from a kid, I had wanted the toothpick to stab him right in his butthole. But it missed. He had drilled a hole into his right testicle instead. He bled a lot, and my mother called the emergency medic. He swore a blue streak and immediately accused me, but he couldn't do anything because of the pain. My two sisters couldn't wipe the grins off their faces anymore, and from that day on I was their hero. The right testicle was removed in the hospital. I never saw this man again. I know it wasn't the right thing to do but, to this day, I'm not sorry about it. He deserved it. I never again in my life was violent or caused any other human being harm; but I'm convinced to this day that he was a bad person, and I'm glad that as s child of eight I found a way to let him know what I thought of him.

Posted on 29.09.2009, 02:05:25 CET
Place: Unterdelle 7, 44388 Dortmund


Weather God (00000089)
0 comments
2.9/5 (239 Votes)
Man, our neighbors two houses down are getting on my nerves in a major way! It has just barely gotten warm again, and they're already putting on garden parties that last into the night. There's no getting any sleep; with the wind just right, the smoke from their burnt sausages on the grill wafts into the bedroom and hangs there all night long. But the worst is, they are such loud a-holes. Neighbors complained, but that only helped temporarily. I have now acquired a strong water pump and downloaded rolling thunder noises from the internet. You know what happened next: last Friday, I turned on the pump, positioned the hose and turned on the thunder with my big loudspeaker. The drunk broads started to scream and everybody ran inside. You could still hear them, but it was muffled. A couple of days later, I met the neighbor in front of the house and he said, thank goodness it rained, we needed it, the ground was fart-dry. I'll let a little time go by, and, if they get loud again, I'm going to play weather god. I beg forgiveness and indulgence.

Posted on 30.04.2011, 06:43:01 CET
Place: Cologne, Germany

45 Sins (Kategorie Revenge).



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