Had a genuine sicky myself...
..I suffer from an allergy called Dermitographic Urticaria, which I've mainly managed to get under control (although it does kick in now and again). I basically come out in hives when my skin is agitated, which for a laff I can actually draw on my skin, which lasts for approx 1 hour.

It may be a valid excuse to pull a sicky, but I was accused by some staff/management of making it up. So, using my new found allergic super-powers I wrote "CUNTY" on my forearm and pointed it out to the accusing management. By the time the n00b brought others over to show the complaint, it had gone from my arm. Cue lots of akwark confusion and me playing innocent while the manager got grilled :)

Behold, I am Captain Etch-A-Sketch!
( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 9:48, Reply)

I had a very lenient boss and a secure job
Once, just to see what I could get away with, I called in at 9am (still drunk, due to one of many epic parties) on a winter morning to tell my boss that my front door had frozen solid, but I might be in later if I managed to thaw it with a hairdryer.

Somehow he never felt inclined to question this story, and yet when I called in on a similar occasion with the much more believable excuse of "flu", he wanted to know who the giggling girls in the background were.
( wangmaster2000, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 9:47, Reply)

My boss liked me.
My line manager wanted to give me a pay rise, but there was no way the tight fisted cnuts at the top of the company would authorise it. Instead, my boss let me get away with anything as long as the work was up to date.

My girl friend came to visit me one evening. Rabbits don't shag as much as we did - all night and into the dawn.
Knowing that my boss would most likely already be in the office, I called at 7.30.

Me: "Hi Dave. My girl friend came over last night, and well, I'm really exhausted... all the stock checking's up to date... can I take today off?"
Dave: "Ha ha! Yes, totally! See you tomorrow!"
Me: "Yay!" [goes to sleep, has more sex all day]

Priceless. Best boss I ever had.
( no cake for the impuritay Patrick Stewart hasn't aged since, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 9:46, Reply)

car crash sickie
In the middle of the night I decided to drive the 187 miles to Aberystwyth to visit girlfriend who was at uni there.

Unfortuanately late night driving on country welsh roads in the dark at near speed of sound resulted in me stacking it into a crash barrier.

Upon arriving at about 6am it occurs to me I'm supposed to be at work in 2 hours time which was a 4 hour drive away...and the car was fooked.

So, trying to stifle the noise of the seagulls etc I call work to explain I can't make it in as I've had a car accident "on the way to work". I had to conduct some serious cover up lies over the next week or two to hide the fact my car was smashed up in Wales and not in Milton Keynes as work thought.

Got a shag when I got there though ;-)
(golddust QOTW now revolves around being a cunt, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 9:42, Reply)

Captain Sickie
One of me work colleagues has had more sick than the local hospital. It most prob helps that he looks like the "Scream" painting, but with a bigger forehead.

He's come up with lots of magical ways of torturing the bosses here, which range from;

Having his own desk, and own giant blue office chair (for spinal injuries past).

Complaining about lighting conditions, and getting specialised equipment for him only.

Having an "Electrolysis Kit" for apparent nerve damage in his hands, which I saw him use once. He had this strap of metal around his hand and his fingers were twitching. "I'm on Stage 2 Electrolysis" he says, while I piss myself laughing.

He walked up the steps coming into the building, and tripped onto the 2nd step, where he landed on his knees. Not really fast, but enough to make the manager who was standing behind him snigger. 5 mins later he walks up to her claiming that he's jarred his back, and needed to be removed via ambulance. I swear the ambulance drivers know his name.

His family members have all died twice. Funnily enough only on Fridays too.

1 other thing to note; one guy here has never had a sickday in his entire 6 years of working here. He was sent an email stating every way to get out of work (which included best excuses etc), to which he forwarded to management and the Mekon still didn't get fired. The guys a spawny cunt.
( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 9:41, Reply)

perfect alibi
Went out for dinner with parents and friends and it all went wrong.
Next day I'm feeling not so good so decide to feeble out and throw a sickie.
Turns out my Mum got food poisoning at the restaurant and phoned work to find out if I was ok, finding I wasn't there she explained to my boss what had happened thus giving credibility to my somewhat feeble excuse! :-)

Cue, sympathetic boss when I returned to work asking if I was well enough to come back as it had only been 1 day. So I said, I wanted to make an effort and took it easy for the rest of the week :-)
(golddust QOTW now revolves around being a cunt, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 9:37, Reply)

Always works
My favourite (and mucho used) sickie excuse is to ring in and say I've caught nits (or head lice if you work somewhere posh) from my kids/siblings/nieces & nephews. Nobody, and I mean NOBODY wants you in work that day. What's more, they don't mention it when you go back, it's as though it might be catching if it's ever acknowledged.

*pop* (after at least 6 years of lurking)
(joolsy, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 9:36, Reply)

Does school count?
Never being a regular atendee I could always wangle a day off if my dad went to work early as my mum was so soft she'd believe me everytime I said I was ill, after about 2 weeks of me not going my dad drove me to school and sat in his car outside the main gates till about 11am so I had to stay, now I felt really really ill (for once) and had to be sent to the nurses office as I went green and vommed all over the I.T room. So school rings my mum who rings the docs and gets me an appointment, doc thinks I'm pregnant, my dad had come to collect me from the doctors and being from a huge catholic family he can spot pregnancy a mile off and guessed what it was when he saw me go to the loo with a sample pot. In the car home my 'I told you I was ill you tight arse' didnt quite beat his 'there goes your life, well done'

_{me and my dad are still very close and he's a great grandad plus I passed all my GCSE's just to prove a point to him}
( Hellsbelles shite at photoshop, flash and all that jazz, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 9:25, Reply)

can't believe no one has done this one yet...
"I can't come in today, I'm sick".

"How sick are you?"

"Well, I fuck my Dad".
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 9:24, Reply)

Lies all lies
I pulled a sickie a few weeks back - my boss sent me a snotty email about "working from home" and how he didn't like it... Working? Anyway...

I held out digital thermometer up against the radiator until a suitably impressive temperature was shown on it, then took a pic with my phone and texted it to him.

He actually apologised when I got back to work :)
(zarf, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 9:22, Reply)

At the largest speech event in the state of Kansas...
I'm going to just admit it right here. I'm a speech nerd. I'm a policy debater in school, and have watched this stuff since I was five. So I've kind of had this ingrained into my mind and it's kind of screwed me up.

In January, our debate team was at the state competitions, and my coach needed an alternate for the alternate. Me being the daughter of the rather influentual school administrator that was going to be judging there any way, my coach asked me to come along.

First day is fine and dandy, with me just sitting in the back of the room drinking water and trying to read the judge's ballots. We're tied for first at the end of the night, so we go out for dinner at some fancy Italian place. I order some pasta dish, and it's okay. We get back to the hotel, have a pep talk, and we go to bed, for it is going to be a long Saturday.

All is well until around 5:45am, when I wake up feeling ill. A few minutes later, I'm running to the trash can in the room (which mind you, has no liner) and throwing up. I get dressed, and ready for the day. 6:45 comes along, and like clockwork, so does the vomit.

I'm certainly feeling off, so I decide to stay far away from my team and instead with said father. We stop at Mickey D's, and I order a large sprite, and some fruit. I'm slowly sipping along, and about another hour, in a black pinstriped suit, I am running toward the ladie's room. My vomit tasted sweet. There were chunks of strawberry in it.

Meanwhile, my coach sees that I'm sitting out for the rounds, and he is not too pleased with this. It takes him a while to figure out the intensity of my sickness.

This happens for a few more hours, until I'm exhausted, and people passing by stop to ask me how I'm doing, and make small talk. (I'm notorious on the circuit here because of my family's position in this sport (both brothers quite successful, and I would later be seen as a rising shining star in another speaking event) One of those people included a judge that was going in to the round. I think he voted for us out of pity, because here is a little novice being dragged out here, and sicker than a dog.

My father and I eventually were sent home, because I wasn't getting any better, and my coach was nice enough to realize that it was very possible that if I did not get better, I was going to have to go the ER because I was that dehydrated and couldn't keep anything down. I stopped vomiting after I got home.

It all seemed better until a few hours later, when I had the worst liquidy shits that to this day make me terrified to fart. Several ounces of Pepto-Bismol later, I feel okay, but exhausted.

Net gain: being probably the most respected novice on the squad, black shits for almost a week (due to the pepto), giving my family a really bad illness, and a shiny medal. Oh, and a taste aversion to flavored non-carbonated water because the taste reminds me of my sickly-sweet fruity vomit. I gag everytime I stupidly grab a bottle and nearly get sick all over again.

Except the kick in my figurative balls was that we only placed second in the state.

And it made me smile to find out my coach had the exact same sickness at the national tournament a few weeks ago.
(to the lighthouse, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 9:21, Reply)

My work asked me to go to Germany
and help set up a display stand for some exhibition they have over there.

With me being still in school at the time I was supposed to come up with a suitable excuse for getting off school for 4 days. I phoned the principle from the airport and told them I'm going to Germany for some work and would pick them up some duty free if they wanted.

She didn't mind as I was good at school and thought it would be valuable experience.
It was, because most of my time was spent drinking beer and eating at restaurants.
(moomin-papa ; folkin class., Fri 9 Jun 2006, 9:19, Reply)

My 'exploded eye'...
A few years ago,I was given an opportunity to meet my favorite band at the time,but only if I went to Iceland... This was during term time,but I figured I had 2 years of school left,and this was a once in a lifetime kinda thing,so I had to go. I didnt give the teachers a note,and just hoped they wouldnt notice Id gone.

After a week in the clean Icelandic air,and free from the stress of school,my teenage acne improved no end,and I was glowing and healthy when I returned to school. So when I was called up to explain to my form teacher why Id been off,I was a bit screwed as I looked so healthy. Then I remembered I had a small bloodshot patch in my eye. So...My exaplanation for a week off school- "Errm,my eye exploded,umm,its a bit bloodshot now"...

I am such a spacker.
(Miharu, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 9:10, Reply)

Not exactly a sickie but an excuse anyway...
...I rather pathetically claimed that my grandad had died and told the teacher that my dad had been too upset to write a note excusing me for the funeral.
All lies of course to avoid a school sports event.

My grandad died exactly one week later and I couldn't help thinking that I had caused it somehow by virtue of my previous evil lie.
Sorry grandad.
(emadex thinks the world will end on, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 8:59, Reply)

Awesome Sickie
Did once claim that working in the San Fernando Valley for three weeks straight (NB : think "hot", multiply it by ten, double it - and that's still not enough) had left me unable to properly distinguish colours.

USGS were kind enough to pay my opthalmologists bill and get my laser eye surgery that I would otherwise have had to pay a fortune for! Result.

A student of mine however - late with a chapter for his PhD work - claimed to be in hospital when he called me for an extension. I'd have been happy to give him the extension (he was doing well enough anyway, and certainly on the right track) were it not for a shout of "FORE" from right next to him. Fecker was on the golf-course.
(Seismologist Have patience. In time even grass becomes milk., Fri 9 Jun 2006, 8:54, Reply)

Sickies
I gave someone a written warning for pulling a sicky, yesterday.

Am I a bastard?

Mwhahahahahahaha, mwhahahahahaha!
( Fire & Forget it's the only way to be sure, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 8:52, Reply)

Didn't have to fake it.
I locked myself in my porch somehow. For 7 hours. I was also hungover, needed a shit and it was the hottest day of the year. Had to wait for my housemate to come home and let me out. Work didn't believe me the next day.
(kidcamel is due to call your mum at, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 8:49, Reply)

stitch up
i used to have a saturday job working at m+s, i'd take the deliveries at some horrific hour in the morning, dragging crates of food off a lorry into a walk in fridge. (as you can imagine, it's a pretty grim job on a hangover)

i'd been around a mates, there were a few of us and we'd been up all night, alas i was still up by the time i had to make 'the call'. this was 5mins before the delivery was due, and i did feel bad, as i'd left a 60 year old guy to unload a whole hgv on his own.

this was compounded by all my mates shouting "he's faking" in unison during the call.
(oller, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 8:43, Reply)

Can't come to work today...
A friend had been on a bit of a bender; he skived off work by phoning his boss and telling him his eyes were bleeding.

Nice....
(DustyD, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 8:41, Reply)

My mate
had taken loads of time off sick but we were going clubbing so he HAD to come too.

I rang him at work where he took the call in the staff canteen and after listening for a minute he crumpled to the floor and started weeping uncontrollably.

Yes, you've guessed - a death in the family - but not to tempt fate we invented a brother who died spectacularly in a motorbike crash, so my mate got top marks for the acting job. We had a wicked night out and didn't start feeling guilty until come-down - huzzah!
( Geoff the Clownfish You know Myra, some people might think you're cute, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 8:38, Reply)

I once called in "sick" from a train
It was friday morning and I was on my way to visit a friend in another city.

The train noise was quite audible so I think what they heard was roughly this: "KACHUNK KACHUNK .. hi, this is [my name] .. KACHUNK KACHUNK .. yes, I'm not feeling well today .. KACHUNK KACHUNK .. yes, I'll be staying in my bed .. KACHUNK KACHUNK .. yes, see you on Monday .. KACHUNK KACHUNK .. bye .."

They never made any mention of it, though.
(spinoza, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 8:32, Reply)

Poetic justice
I used to get sore throats regularly, worked through them when I had a decent boss but, when I got a true 24 carat assh%le as my boss I started to drop the occasional "sore throat" sickie when I felt like it. All well and good until I got really bad tonsilitis on a day when I'd phoned in with a sore throat. Ended up in intensive care for three days, septicaemia and eventually 4 hours of throat surgery to remove the buggers.
Ended my convenient "sore throat" career.
(Captain Placid 24/7 ball gags, brownie mix and clown porn, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 8:27, Reply)

Reverse Sickies
Last time I wanted a sickie, I was actually SICK...! Start of a bad headache and I tells wifey - "Shit, don't feel good. Head is pounding".

I wasn't expecting nor hoping for the sympathetic, "Awww poor thing, you go back to bed and sleep it off, then I'll come in later to wake you up with a nice, soothing head compress and snuggle in bed with you then.."

Nor was I expecting yet GOT the so very much more unsympathetic, "yeah, and what are you going to do all day - lounge around and surf on the computer all day.."

So what would any hen-pecked and beaten husband do but drag myself off to work only to have to explain to her a week later when the paycheck came in a little short - a full day in fact - that seeing I am on contract and get paid for every hour I actually work and also seeing that I managed ZERO hours of work that day suffering the effects of a full-blown migraine and that I couldn't claim any hours for work: In fact I had to sit at my desk all day and surf the net whilst the meds kicked in as I had nowhere to lie down.

So now... when I want to slack off and surf the net all day, I just tell her "I have to work" on the Saturday and come into the office in a "taking a sickie from home" kind of way.

She loves me though.... even with all the extra hard work I put in at the office.

And to cover the paycheck increase whilst not actually doing any extra work....? I just didn't tell her of the last payrise or two.

Now, whatever you do, DO NOT "I like This", 'cos the only B3TA QOTW posts she reads (on the very odd occasions that she desicdes to snoop in on what I am doing) are the BEST ones.

Length... It's never enough for her, is it..!?
(Sir Jester, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 8:23, Reply)

Nice boss...
When I was 19 taking my year off to 'save some money for Uni' I had a right royal bender with a mate I hadn't seen for years.
Next day, at work, I became incredibly queasy, unsurprising considering the combinationof lager, Jack daniels and Baileys that was trying to escape from my bowels.
After an hour of continual top and bottom excavation my boss enquired as to whether I was alright (bear in mind this is a Saturday).
"What did you eat yesterday?", he asked.
"Well... I had a Maccy D for lunch"
"Ah, that'll do it. You don't want to eat Macdonalds.You've probably got food poisoning".
He rang my dad to let him know I was coming home. I shit it. Not just because of my ill health, but because my Dad was a bit of a drinker, but liked to boast that he never missed a days work because of it (he once slaughtered my brother for it, and threatened to chuck him out of the house for good if he didn't go to work with a hangover).

My boss, overcome with compassion, DROVE ME HOME.

We arrive to find my Dad looking stern on the doorstep. I trudged in sheepishly.
As my boss drove away, my Dad burst into laughter. "If he can't tell the difference between food poisoning and being a pisshead, then he's a stupid cunt. Well done son."
( Joe Scaramanga with a G-double-O-D vibration, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 8:22, Reply)

Another one;
Whilst at uni during a reading week I had the joys of tutorials and lectures because my course was run by masochists.

In that week, I drove all over the country (england) going to various house parties, gigs and places I have never been.

At the end of the week I managed to scoff a rather unpleasant kebab, which of course sets the arse a-spraying, so on the Monday morning still needing a cork from Saturday night, I went to the doctors, and was given a note for the previous week
( Neon Blue Ah ha ha haa! I feel positively capital!, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 8:04, Reply)

A Bun In The Oven
I had a temp working for me, and she had a habit of being habitually unreliable, both at actually turning up to work and being able to perform simple tasks like, Filing, breathing and moving about.
It should, therefore, have been no suprise to me when, on the umpteenth day of her not showing up to work, she phoned in and said she wouldn't be in today.
I asked if there was anything I could help with, and she told me she had just found out she was pregnant, and would like to take her 6 months Maternity Leave now, please.
(LunarJim, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 8:03, Reply)

4th
Woot!

Edit: I work from home, it feels like I've been off work for two and a half years.

Does that count?

Mod Edit: Of course it does, everyone knows that people working from home don't do anything at all...
(cherry B, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 8:00, Reply)

I have turned up to work very very late with a hangover
and told my boss that I felt like crap, so he sent me down to the infirmary on site, who agreed that I had a high temperature and it was probably 'flu, which gave me 7 days off work to sit around and generally be lazy.
( Neon Blue Ah ha ha haa! I feel positively capital!, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 7:55, Reply)

Diarea
Can't spell it but I've "had" it several times a year and each time make it seem like rectal cancer
(Elfking, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 7:52, Reply)

Hrmm
I don't have to fake being sick! There's too much stuff that's already conveniently wrong with me. I've got bad circulation, bum knees and occasional insomnia. But I did exaggerate some marital strife once in order to secure a day off - does that count?

Edit: Also, first post!
(Mrs_Talbot, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 7:51, Reply)