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This is a question Apparently I'm a sex offender

I was once paid £15 to count the amount of people visiting a hairdresser. I stood outside for 3 hours with a clicky counter in my pocket, pressing it every time a person entered. Suddenly there's a copper in front of me, I turn and there's another behind. "What are you up to sunshine?" "A rival hairdresser wants to count the competition" "Well, there's been a call from the shop owner that there's a ginger bloke standing outside fiddling with his cock." Have you ever done anything that made strangers think you were a pervert?

(, Thu 17 Aug 2006, 22:20)
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My job
Is to stand outside a ladies toilet.

This is because the cinema I work at is arranged toilet, screen, screen, screen, toilet, screen. I stand next to the toilet to cover the last two screens. If you don't know the layout of the cinema I just look like I'm hanging around outside the lady-shitters.

It is most excellant cover.
(, Sun 20 Aug 2006, 11:51, Reply)
I used to help run a charity based
swimming pool and did a lot of volountry work there. I was generaly the one doing all the repairs and keeping the place going on a budget of nothing. One year there was a bit of a problem with rats living above the fibre board ceiling of the pool building and I began going into the dark loft space, every couple of days, to top up the rat bait. One late afternoon, I was waitin for te last couple of kids to change and piss off home, so to fill in time, I went up to check the bait. reaching down to pick up the tub, I stepped off the rafter and realised, too late, that I was standing on the flimsy ceiling which obviously collapsed and sent me through to the floor below - right by the door of the girls changing room. I almost landed on one of the kids. The very next day, one of the said kids says to me 'my mum said why was he over the girls changing romm....' Great. Small village, big rumours.
(, Sun 20 Aug 2006, 11:23, Reply)
At the age of fifteen...
...I was friends with a rather aesthetically pleasing, not to mention well endowed, girl named Mel. One lunch time, at school, a group of friends and I had grown tired of throwing apples at various people and were presented with a conundrum. What were we to do next? At this point I had a brainstorm and said "Let's go perv over Mel's tits." Unfortunately, Mel had spyed me momentarily before I said this, and wondered over with a query to arrive precisely when I made my suggestion to my comrades.

So I'm sure she thought I was a pervert. And if she didn't then, she probably did when she woke up to find me dressed as french maid whilst emptying my balls on her face and singing that Titanic song.

I never did find out what she originally wanted to ask though.
(, Sun 20 Aug 2006, 10:59, Reply)
My daddy...
Once when I was very very small,I was puking,or peeing my knickers or something,and my mum rushed me into the ladies loos to clean me up. My poor dad was left waiting outside the ladies loo. A copper then came and started questioning him as to why he was lurking there,and blatently didnt believe him when he gave his totally innocent reason.
(, Sun 20 Aug 2006, 9:19, Reply)
A Stagger . . . .
Tonight for our mates stag night we went round Torry and harbour pubs (won't mean much if you're not Aberdonian) and we stood outside the Rat Cellar (Victoria Bar) looking at the 14 year old jail bait that was hanging about the Grampian Bar.
TBH we'd had a few pints and possibly were up for some fun with some big-knockered teenagers, but when it turned out that one of the guys with us had been their teacher at school our ardour cooled.
I would have . . . .
(, Sun 20 Aug 2006, 9:02, Reply)
I dunno'
I did a PE lesson without any shorts on once, does that count?
(, Sun 20 Aug 2006, 7:47, Reply)
Alleged Abduction
When I lived in the university housing someone tried to break into my room leaving the door somewhat unreliable. One day my roomate and I discovered we were locked inside and someone had to let us out.

A couple days after this I was awoken from an afternoon nap by a beautiful girl whom I had never seen. She greeted me with an enthusiastic hug and asked to come in. Always being the gracious host, I allowed her entry. My window was open and a sudden breeze caused the door to slam shut. The girl sat down on my bed and, much to my dissapointment, opened her bag and pulled out some subscription forms. She was only here to sell magazines.

When I got up to let her out I discovered the door had locked itself again. A real look of fear flashed over the girl's face when I told her I couldn't open the door. She didn't believe me and tried for herself. When that didn't work she started pounding on the door and yelling in the hopes that someone in the hallway would hear her and attempt a rescue. However after another try, I got the door open on my own, probably reinforcing the girl's worst fears about me. Her departure was swift and unpersonable.
(, Sun 20 Aug 2006, 5:09, Reply)
I'm not saying I'm obsessed with sex

but I am suing the makers of the film 'Snatch' for false advertising.

Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all week - enjoy the buffet. It's your Mum.
(, Sun 20 Aug 2006, 5:04, Reply)
Well, i had an awesome Nokia N70
and me and the lasyship were messign around with it one night.

Next thing i know,
it's been nicked and every single photo was sent to everyone in the address book.

Thanks.
You cunt*.

*Evil meany lady-genital parts person.
(, Sun 20 Aug 2006, 4:25, Reply)
booksnake
i got thrown out of a book shop for shagging

although i didn't leave until i was finished
(, Sun 20 Aug 2006, 0:21, Reply)
Yes office, that *is* my name on that letter, but-
I once worked for a local computer shop (you know the sort; they'd attempt anything with a screen) until my boss mysteriously disappeared.
Few days later the police turn up asking to talk to me.
Turns out my old boss had been into photographing his (14 y/o) stepdaughter. Anyone from Syston, Leicester may remember the story.
So why did they want to talk to me? The photos were taken in my office...
(, Sun 20 Aug 2006, 0:12, Reply)
Lunchbox of Doooom
Ok. When I was 19, I was a bit of a goth. More so than I am now(I still have the Manson shirts but a Sunn O))) beard of grimnity adorns my manly features). I had the long leather coat, the eyeliner and most of all I had the lunchbox. A pink Hello Kitty lunchbox I bought from Claires Accessories, just the right size to fit a few cd's and a small paperback for work. I even put an Autechre sticker on it. I was that cool.

So. I started seing a girl from the 6th form, a stunningly pretty Placebo fan with some novel ideas of fun... All was good, until I went to meet the parents. I toned down the makeup, spoke politely and behaved immaculately.

The feedback? "He looks like a fucking paedophile with that lunchbox!"

I didn't go to that house again. I actually ended up giving away the lunchbox a year later, to a girl who very nearly tempted me into becoming an offender for real.

There's other stories, but they're incriminating.
(, Sat 19 Aug 2006, 23:54, Reply)
I'm not sure if this is an offence, as we were all willing...
In my first year at uni, I lived in halls. My hall was a rather nice old building, with 3 floors of quite distinct self contained corridors, each having 9 residents of various genders. Each corridor therefore attained a kind of group feeling, and most chose to have some sort of social event, such as a corridor meal, or corridor bowling night, film night etc.

What did my corridor unanimously decide to have after a water butt of alcohol? A corridor shower. And those cubicles aren't big...

We were thereafter seen as the corridor that had the shower, and nervously shunned by the rest of the halls...

I'm glad my uni days are behind me and forgotten.
(, Sat 19 Aug 2006, 22:47, Reply)
Sex Offender
A mate of mine once had community service in a hospital for packing heat, or drugs or some shit (I tend not to listen to the twat.) Anywhoo he was bursting for a shit, but the staff toilets were out of order and the visitors are too far away. So he runs into the pediatrics toilet drops kecks an shits. Some little kid with a broken arm who he happened to have pissed off sees him come in and proceeds to nick his shoe from under the gap of the cubicle an runs out with it. My mate being both stupid and having a short fuse runs out pulling his pants up as he leaves shouting "If you dont give it to me now I'm gonna fuck you you twat." I wish I'd seen the nurses face.
(, Sat 19 Aug 2006, 21:57, Reply)
Once had a hungover wank at work
And took ages to finish, only to turn round and realise I hadn't shut the cubicle door. At least three other people had been in and out again during the time it took....

... a small detail I'll never forget is seeing my red, sweaty, embarrassed face in the mirror with my tie over my shoulder, for obvious reasons...
(, Sat 19 Aug 2006, 21:43, Reply)
Whilst at school

I got caught shagging a 6th former behind the bike shed, got a warning for getting a blowjob off a Year 10 student, and got sent home early once for spying into the girls changing room. It was when I got caught red handed wanking into a bunsen burner that I was promptly sacked and told I could never teach again in London.
(, Sat 19 Aug 2006, 21:31, Reply)
Sex offender by proxy
I was on the sex offenders register. I went off on holiday as you do and left my keys with my brother so he could feed my fish, pick up the post, etc. Unfortunately he also had my car keys. The bastard goes kerb crawling, picks up the undercover policewoman and gets nicked. He then says he's me and gets away with it due to me leading a blameless existence. I only find out a few weeks later when I helped two police cars stop a car they were chasing down the M6. They got the chavs in the car waved me on and I didn't think anything more about it until one of the policemen phoned me up a couple of days later to say thanks and "by the way I wiped the kerb crawling charge off your record." "Erm, what kerb crawling charge? When did this happen?" And it was while I was in Goa. Seeing as only my brother had access to my keys it was a bit of an open and shut case. I never said anything due to the very recent birth of his daughter but I wish I had done now. Because it's partially fucked my life. I used to lead working holidays as part of my living. Not anymore because anyone who's been on the sex offenders register is blacklisted for very obvious reasons. If you're reading this brother, I hope you die of cancer somewhere morphine hasn't been invented yet.

I won't apologise for length, it's not me who's too small...
(, Sat 19 Aug 2006, 20:34, Reply)
.working in retail you see alot.
I've worked retail for over 2 years. While I was employed in a dept store, and being a great customer service rep, was showing a male customer some shoes.

All we had were women's (not strange for I have seen men in 3 piece business suits try on heels and hooker boots and click around the store), so I figured he was shopping for himself, or a 'friend'.

The other employees starting freaking, and all ran to begin intently watching the shoe dept.
I was new, I had no idea that he was the infamous 'shoe perv' -to be avoided and watched at all costs.

Turns out he'd been kicked out of the store numerous times for oogling women/young girls try on shoes, then hastily retreat to the bathroom to, as you Brits call it, wank off. He had a mighty foot fetish.

...and there I was trying on shoes for him.

The other employees sure had a laugh.
(, Sat 19 Aug 2006, 19:52, Reply)
Repeat offender
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I bring your attention to pretty much everything Stusut has ever posted.

Guilty as charged, I know I feel violated...
(, Sat 19 Aug 2006, 15:52, Reply)
operation cluster fuck
when i was a second year student living in college owned accommodation it was part of the deal that, if we wanted to keep our shared flat for more than a year, the first years sent to look round it had first refusal.

wanting very much to avoid the bother of moving and to keep our group of 2 (extremely fit) girls, 3 boys plus assorted partners, we decided the most effective short to long term strategy would be a three pronged attack designed to make our visitors feel as uncomfortable as possible in the shortest amount of time while remaining apparently, or atleast effectively, innocent as to motive; decreasing the chance of them leaving with a good impression while also leaving little room for independent judgement, and possessing little or no credible or relevant complaint for the college authorities.

moving all the beds into the lounge, we pushed them together, got into various states of undress, and coiled ourselves around one another to wait for their arrival.

obvious and, in the rather permissive zeitgeist of university, perhaps even too tame an impression to truly disrupt the subject so, understanding that good persuasion technique dictates that it is the subtle, unspoken, subconscious impressions that ultimately make or break the more direct assertions, "just enough to be noticeable" make-up was applied to the males, groans of mass ecstacy executed at precisely calculated pitch and volume were immediately stifled as the front door opened; the bathroom being the first room of the house, three tubs of "assumedly innocent but unusual enough to register" vaseline were lined up on the rim of the bath, and the lounge doorknob was given an "apparently accidental but generous" coating of grease.

on entering the dim and by now extremely close atmosphere of the lounge, to our untwitchingly innocent and ever-so-slightly-over-friendly bemusement, our visitors invariably made their excuses and immediately scarpered.

we managed to keep the flat but, alas, not our souls :)
(, Sat 19 Aug 2006, 13:39, Reply)
Nightshifts make you give away TOO MUCH INFO
MeColleague and I were doing Nights babysitting one of the more 'arty' channels, which at the time was showing a documentary about fetishes.

GawdBless'im he'd had a sheltered existence, so when a bloke was being 'punished' by his Mistress he remarked  "My, that is a very stiff whip she's using ... "

Without pausing for thought I reply   "That isn't a whip, it's a riding crop..."

Silence ensued for about the next 20 minutes, broken only by the tumbleweed passing through the TX Suite ...
(, Sat 19 Aug 2006, 13:33, Reply)
During the recent hot spell
I was wearing a Tshirt and shorts while sitting at my computer. The waistband was cutting in so I undid it and eased the zip down.

Some time later a friend's eight year old child came to the door and I went outside for a chat with him. A neighbour's fourteen year old daughter saw me, saw the open zip and comfortable panties on show and said,

"Ew, she's been fingering herself on camera."

Her eighteen year old boyfriend then added,

"You should keep away from kids, or you will get reported, you pervert!"

and here's me, a 50 year old mum of three! I took it as a compliment!
(, Sat 19 Aug 2006, 10:04, Reply)
It's A Bad Man, Daddy!
Scuse the annoying amount of backstory, but behind my parents house is a little bit of a field and the continuation of a bridle path that cuts the entire estate in half. This used to be a quaint little rutted path virtually overgrown with bushes and trees that all the locals used to walk their dogs along. Until the council had the genius idea of concreting the bastard and turning into a shiny, six foot wide super charver highway. Now the people walking dogs have mostly gone, replaced by drunken teenagers, gangs of hoody wearers and the occasional pikey twat on one of those hair-dryer powered mini-bike things that make a noise like concorde taking off. Now along the length of this path, many of the houses have back gates to allow access which, after it was covered in tarmac, basically became the preferred entrance for pikey burglar scum. As a result, almost everyone, including my parents, have locked up their gates, pulled out the homemade steps and let the weeds and nettles overgrow the little bank between them and the path to hide from the charvers.

Right. Now I've covered myself in excuses in case the police are still looking for me, I can get on with the actual story.

Being that no damn charver scum is going to interfere with my laziness, I came out of my parents house and headed for the back gate on my way to the pub (natch). As I was unlocking the gate I heard something both wonderous and weird. There were voices to be heard from the path, not those of charvers though, but of an actual human family. My heart rejoiced. As I was taking off the padlock I heard the father warn his daughter (oddly named Irana, no idea if that's how you spell it) not to wander too far away. Good for him, I thought. It was starting to get dark and you never know what kind of weirdo you're going to run into on that path. Silly me. With the gate finally opened and then closed behind me I did a quick reccy of the state of the hill down to the path. It was only about six foot but, from what I could see of the places the nettles hadn't overgrown the top step was still there, the next one consisted of one moss covered housebrick and the bottom step had disappeared completely and had been replaced by a mini mud slide. No problem, I thought, first is easy and enough balance on the second to be able to jump over the mud and nettles should see me safely down. I readied myself and promptly tripped off the top step. Excellent, I thought as I tried to land on the second 'step' and succeeded in doing nothing more than catching my toe on it and tipping myself face first into the mud. Splendid, I mused as I did a barrel roll through said mud. But Hooray, I thought, as I at least managed to get my hands up in front of my face to protect my eyes even though it meant stinging the hell out of my arms on the nettles as I did so. But, even better, I somehow managed to commando roll the last bit and spring up onto my feet.

It was about then that the screaming started.

"IRANA. GET BACK HERE. NOW!!!" I heard the man shout in angry terror as, twenty feet up the path from him, a mud covered pervert seemingly jumped out of the bushes right next to his beloved little girl, rubbing his arms at her furiously and muttering a constant stream of swearwords. I could only look at him, shocked and bemused. My attention quickly turned back to Irana, however, as, after getting over the initial shock of me looming out of the bushes at her, had clearly decided she was having the time of her life. She pointed at me and shouted, oddly, in a voice totally filled with excitement. "Look Daddy! It's a bad man! It's a bad man, Daddy!" As if she'd heard about these bad men but never thought she would ever actually get to see one. And now she had she sounded as if all her birthdays had come at once! I didn't have a fucking clue what to do at this point so did my best to flash a reassuring smile at the father. Due to the agony of my battered, mud covered body, however, I've got a horrible feeling it probably looked more like a sneer. Sensing there was little I could do to improve this situation, I simply waved and walked off, leaving a bewildered family, huddling together, the father noticing the gate from which I had come and hopefully figuring out what the fuck had just happened and not ringing the police. That didn't stop me sitting at the pub, covered in mud and shitting myself the entire night, waiting for them to come and arrest me like.
(, Sat 19 Aug 2006, 9:50, Reply)
Its only for comfort! honest!
A about a week ago i was walking around and felt the need to "readjust" seeing as the area was pritty mutch deserted I turned round and fixed my crotch only to notice a woman sitting in a car id thought was empty. To her it must of seemed that I had deliberately stopped walking along, to face her and grab my balls. I legged it before she could compile an e-fit, i hope she has a husband/bf or close male friend who can explain the male need to rearage for maximum comfort so I dont end up on crimewatch.
(, Sat 19 Aug 2006, 9:42, Reply)
Teaching teenage girls
A friend of mine (No, I swear, it really was a friend....it wasn't me, honest!) is a teacher at a private school for girls in a fairly affluent area in Sydney.
He's seen as fairly handsome, and his charisma has made him a fair few teenage "groupies". However, he's so ramrod straight that he wouldn't dream of doing anything pervy with the girls (well...he might dream of it, if you know what I mean....), and would be mortified that I'm putting it here.
On the final day of school one year, as he was saying goodbyes to the girls, one of them asked for a hug, or something like that, and he reached out to say goodbye just as she turned towards him, and he grabbed two handfuls of perky teen breasts.

Lucky git.

And the girls all love my length.
(, Sat 19 Aug 2006, 9:20, Reply)
The nonce sense that never was
Earlier this year when Eurovision was going on, and you lovely Brits were sending that creepy bastard Daz Sampson with his schoolgirls and Ian Huntley features to represent you, I had the perfect idea for a spoof. I rewrote the lyrics to contain many noncey references, chronicle Daz's many failed attempts at pulling children, and even a sly b3ta reference.

Of course, as I was working out a cover of the tune on my old MIDI keyboard, the damn thing chose that moment to die a cheap electronic death. Undaunted, I moved on to recording my vocal track. After a bit of practice, I got a pretty good impression down, and began rapping into my computer.. this being in the US, where nobody apart from the local b3tans know anything about Sampson, his video, or Eurovision.

So, there I was with my studio headphones on, enthusiastically rapping to a half-done backing track in a Manchester accent about failing to pull little girls. It wasn't until I was interrupted by my visiting sister walking into the room and pulling my headphones off me that I learned the best take of my rapping was interrupted throughout by timid knocks on my window and her confused voice asking "Rob? Did you just shout what I think you did?"

For some reason, my stuttering explanation which went something like "well you see there's this guy in the UK, who looks like a child molester, a real child molester named Ian Huntley except it's not really him, and they're sending him to this big European song contest, and there are these schoolgirls dancing.. um, let me show you the video! It's awful!!" wasn't met with quite the level of understanding and shared laughter I would have liked. More of a terrified head-shaking and slowly backing away sort of thing...

I ended up putting the half-finished project aside in favor of some other stuff, and eventually replaced the keyboard. Unfortunately, by that time Eurovision had been and gone, that crazy-eyed freak presumably retreated back into his plastic mac, and there's nothing sadder than spoofing something that's horribly old news, so I deleted the unfinished audio. Still, if anyone else with a musical itch to scratch wants to have a go, contact me and I'll send you my lyrics to do with as you please, and you can also have the password to the musician's MySpace account I created for it in a moment of particularly poor judgment.

Apologies for texture.
(, Sat 19 Aug 2006, 2:59, Reply)
In South Australia I was born, heave away, haul away
QUOTE:

I actually went to Oz once. When I arrived they searched my stuff and asked if I had a criminal record. I said "Is one still necessary?"

A large number of people in Australia have criminal records, but that's not so much due to our convict past, as to the stricter laws in Australia as compared to Britain. For example, in Australia shooting Brazilians is illegal.
(, Sat 19 Aug 2006, 2:29, Reply)
more colony-related hilarity
QUOTE:

what about Neighbours, Home and Away, Heartbreak High, The Delinquents and Stefan Fucking Dennis.


The thing with Neighbours and similar soap operas is, in Australia they're mainly aimed at people aged about 15-16.

So essentially you've just complained that last night's episode of Superted was disappointingly childish.
(, Sat 19 Aug 2006, 2:11, Reply)

This question is now closed.

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