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This is a question Messing with people's heads

Theophilous Thunderwulf says: What have you done to fuck with people? Was it a long, carefully planned piece of psychological warfare, or do you favour quick, off-the-cuff comments that confuse the terminally gullible? Have you been dicked with, and only realised many years later? Are you being dicked right now? Tell us everything.

(, Thu 12 Jan 2012, 11:25)
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Mis........ords or le.......s out when ta..lki...y boss, he loves that.
Me and my boss share an office, we have a pretty good working relationship, he's 56ish so not far off retirement, however he's getting on. Keeps having to get new glasses, blood pressure pills, ointments and recently - posh digital hearing aids!

Problem is the batteries keep going so i have perfected the knack of when i say something to him over the tops of the monitors, i manage to abruptly 'cut the volume' of random words and letters as i speak to my great amusement!

Me : "Rob, have y.... past the.... ninth pl.. tomorrow?"
Rob : "Eh?"

Cue 5 mins of cursing and swearing, changing batteries. Doesn't always work but the time it does, it's my own small personal victory as i push him towards madness. AND moving the tape dispenser! I'm a right wheeze
(, Thu 12 Jan 2012, 13:31, 5 replies)
Toilet rolls
Whenever I'm using someone's loo, I always make an effort to turn the toilet roll round so that it's facing the other way.
(, Thu 12 Jan 2012, 13:28, 10 replies)
I think this may be a repost, sorry if it is.
But I have a friend that spent a lot of time believing that printed maps and Sat Navs had the distance to London different by about three quarters of a mile.

I told him that maps were measured to the statue at Charing Cross, but Sat Navs were measured to The BT Tower.

The BT Tower near Great Portland Street. That is why it is called GPS.

Hey. it is not my fault he is an idiot...
(, Thu 12 Jan 2012, 13:25, 1 reply)
I know someone who's new to the whole Facebook thing.
She's just worked out how to post photos, but can't work out tagging etc. She's posted several pictures of her dog.

I've 'shopped monocles/canes/top hats onto all of them and tagged her in them.

She can't work out why facebook has got loads of these 'photos of her' since she's not a slightly posh dog.

EDIT: Pics in replies.
(, Thu 12 Jan 2012, 13:24, 2 replies)
On driving to meet her potential in-laws for the first time and passing by some rabbit warrens in a particularly quiet and beautiful part of Wilshire, I casually mentioned to the future Mrs Ferris that this was the location where most of the filming for Watership Down took place...not a dickie bird for at least 6 months and 3 further visits before she twigged.
(, Thu 12 Jan 2012, 13:22, 1 reply)
One Place I Worked
had a porky chap who used to prepare his lunch, and snacks, in the morning at work before he started. He never deviated from his foods of choice. He'd arrive at work with 6 hamburger rolls, a fuck-off tin of tuna and a Mars Bar. He'd empty the tuna into a bowl, squirt a ridiculous amount of mayonnaise into it, stir, and slop onto his six rolls. The prepared rolls would then go into a plastic tupperware box and be stuck in the fridge.

He'd eat these at random times during the day as he got peckish.

Then someone started to fuck with his head. At first, he'd steal a roll, keep it for a few hours until fat chap noticed he was a roll down, then replace it. Then he got inventive and started to bring the exact same rolls into work and add them to fat chaps box - randomly. Some days fat chap got two extra rolls, some days one, occasionally three - and the odd day he'd get no extra but one stolen.

Completely pointless exercise but amused me. Fat cunt shouldn't have cut my rate at contract renewal time. He ended up going to the doctors as he thought stress was affecting his memory.

No mate, it wasn't stress, it was me. You fat fuck.

(, Thu 12 Jan 2012, 13:20, 4 replies)
Don't mind me, I'm not doing anything here.

(, Thu 12 Jan 2012, 13:19, 4 replies)
I once convinced some ladies that I invented Britney Spears
I say convinced, we were all drunk so who knows.
(, Thu 12 Jan 2012, 13:16, Reply)
Physics and the recursive student
Sometimes fun and interesting, sometimes dull with very hard sums and that.
Physics teacher, awful monotone voice that lulled you to sleep.
Classroom, ground floor with big windows that open wide to outside.
The rules of the game were simple:
When teacher turns her back to write on board, jump out of window and run around to door.
Knock politely and apologise for being late, take seat.
Rinse and repeat.

One boy got away with it 4 times in a row, maybe just a perplexed look and a raised eyebrow from the teacher and an "OK Mike, sit down".
We figure she must have been on some heavy duty anti-depressants or had a severe short term memory problem, whatever it was, she left abruptly mid-term and never returned.

Sorry Miss.
(, Thu 12 Jan 2012, 13:15, 4 replies)
I convinced my 4 year old cousin
that penguins melt when they get too warm, just like the chocolate biscuits.

When my grandpa tried to correct me, I told her that he doesn't know the truth because he hasn't seen Happy Feet. Why else would the penguins be worried about Global Warming?

Since Happy Feet is the gospel for penguin-loving toddlers, she believed me.
(, Thu 12 Jan 2012, 13:10, Reply)
Badger shit tastes like raspberry ripple ice cream.
A few years ago I was on holiday in the south of France and the bloke that owned the lodge we were staying at was a real man of the woods, understood loads about nature and animal behaviour. We got onto the subject of identifying creatures by their poo, and he told me an easy way to tell is to pick it up and lick it, and apparently badger shit tastes like raspberry ripple ice cream.
The next day I went off into the woods, hunting down animal droppings and licking them. I tried all sorts, small nugget ones, long sausage ones, funny little pancake ones, a real myriad of shite. When I got back to the lodge I told him what I'd been up to, but none of them tasted like ice cream so I guess there weren't any badgers living nearby.
He gave me a funny look which I interpreted as 'city boy don't know shit', but later laying in bed it dawned on me that he'd pulled a brilliant gag.
Utter cunt and I love him for it.
(, Thu 12 Jan 2012, 13:08, 2 replies)
I was drunk, and decided it'd be fun.
I know my friend's phone number off by heart, and when someone needed to contact him, I passed it on. However, the person I gave it to was messing round, pretending to flirt with him, but being absolutely ridiculous about it. The final text before the big reveal of who it was texting him read 'I'm going to shit on your tits'.

As we were pretty hammered at this point, this was hilarious. The group had expanded from there being 3 of us to there being about 20 at this point, and I encouraged everyone else to send him the same message. This is the part where it got out of hand, because I thought it'd be HILARIOUS to then get everyone who was with us to text their friend, instructing them to do the same, and text 'I'm going to shit on your tits' to this one lad.

He phoned me a little while later, quite distressed. Turns out quite a few of the people had decided to send slightly more agressive texts, so as a result he'd received around 90 messages off numbers he didn't know, getting nastier and nastier as it went on. As I was drunk, and feeling a bit bad, I denied having anything to do with it.

Nearly got away with it too, before accidentally admitting I'd started it whilst his brother was in earshot. I still feel quite bad about that.
(, Thu 12 Jan 2012, 13:08, Reply)
Mrs Beames the French teacher some time in the early 80's
We hated learning French, didn't see the point in it so we'd do anything possible to avoid doing any actual learning. One day the store room that ran the length of the back of the class was left unlocked, so someone decided it'd be a jolly hoot if everyone was to hide in it and wait for Mrs Beames to arrive.

We managed to cram 30 or so of ourselves into this room and then we waited for teacher to arrive, which she duly did. Several of us were able to peer through the small glass panels near the ceiling and witnessed Mrs Beames enter the room, look around somewhat baffled, turn around and walk back out agian.

This was the cue for everyone to pile out of the store cupboard, quickly set up their books and pens and sit there looking innocent.

2 or 3 minutes later she arrived back in the room, got her books out and said nothing more.

She was probably a bit irritated that she could barely get any sense out of us for the whole lesson as we'd spontaneously burst out into fits of giggles about the whole thing.

About 6 months later she acknowledged that it was clear we didn't want to learn French so she started teaching us some Spanish instead. The following year she divided the class into those who wanted to learn French and those who didn't. She left us alone to do whatever we liked so long as we didn't disrupt the rest of the class.

She was pretty cool was Mrs Beames.
(, Thu 12 Jan 2012, 13:01, 6 replies)
A few years ago, when such things weren't very common
was travelling abroad with my wife, and we hired a VW Golf which had controls for the stereo on the steering wheel.

I told her the stereo reacted to hand gestures, and was doing complicated finger pointing at the head unit, while flicking the buttons on the steering wheel.

She naturally wanted a go, and was gesticulating wildly at the stereo - one in every 5 times or so, I'd change the track or alter the volume, just to keep her interested.

Kept that up for 3 days. I got bored in the end with having to wave at the thing every time I wanted to change something, and told her.
(, Thu 12 Jan 2012, 13:00, 3 replies)
Leading gullible work mates down long, winding roads of bollocks.
We had a colleague who was a bit ditzy in a very annoying way. They'd squeak like a very small child for attention and try to be as girly as possible to get help from the men when we'd have helped anyway. She was also rather gullible.
A friend and myself were talking about who was the best Bond and I'd plumped for Timothy Dalton and was recounting the plot of Licence To Kill, up to the point about cocaine being smuggled into the States in petrol tankers.
"Wow, is that a true story?" She squeaked.
"Errr, yes. Except that instead of going into the US, they were going out of it into Venuzuela and instead of cocaine, it was jelly beans."
"Whaaaaat? No..."
"Well," I continued, "Venuzuela has always been left-leaning and they used to consider the US to be the Great Satan to the north. As such, they banned all forms of American candy. As it happens, Venuzuelans are very partial to jelly beans, so criminal gangs used to dissolve them in petrol, tanker them over the border (with Venuzuela being a net importer back then) and evaporate off the petrol to get the beans back."
"Ohmigod, but wouldn't be there be petrol left in the sweets?"
"Worse. It was leaded petrol. Messed a lot of kids up."
At this point, I decided to see how far I could push it.
"It's where the phrase 'sugar daddy' comes from."
"Yep. Each crimial gang had a 'padrone', or 'daddy' and they were the ones who got you the sugar."

I sometimes miss working with her.
(, Thu 12 Jan 2012, 12:51, Reply)
Daughter aged 2 and a bit
My parents had decided to visit the household while Nell was running about, all excited and happy to see her grand-parents and showing off all her new toys. One of which was a shopping till.

So I nip out to the kitchen and randomly decide to pick up a small chocolate cookie from the biscuit tin, then head back to my spot with the biscuit hid under my hand. Nell runs about asking everyone what they would like from the shops, and I ask her to buy me a cookie. She pretends to take money off me, runs off to the till, hits a few buttons then comes back over to me and pretends to hand me a cookie while saying "Here is your cookie daddy". Thanks say I, and spin my hand over showing her the real cookie which was out of view, then take a big bite out of it.
"Wha? Uh? You got a cookie? Nanny..." she managed while pointing at me and yanking her nan's jumper like mad. Spun her right out.

This most probs explains why she's a right wind up bastard now :)
(, Thu 12 Jan 2012, 12:42, Reply)
I fucked Mrs M61A1
in the mouth........does that count as a "head fuck"?
(, Thu 12 Jan 2012, 12:40, 4 replies)
I like
making people think they're hearing voices and talking to themselves. You can see some of my fine work here!
(, Thu 12 Jan 2012, 12:36, Reply)
Got an Irish brother in law
and when I'm bored I randomly call him up doing a vocal impression of him. Calls go like;

Him answering phone "Hi derr"
Me (in a stupid strong Irish accent) "Hi it's Tom."
Him "Hi it's Tom ere"
Me "Hi, I'm Tom"
Him "No I'm Tom, who'se dis?"
Me "Tom! I be Tom!"

I can normally get about 4-5 minutes out of it before he twigs.
(, Thu 12 Jan 2012, 12:30, 1 reply)
...and if it's a boy, they'll name it Rodney. After Dave.
I'm currently conversing with a client via the magic of email. My email address clearly has "Steve" in it. Every email I've sent, I've signed off as "Steve", and every email has my signature part to it which also says "Steve" in big, bold letters.

The client will not stop addressing me as "Stuart"

I know he's fucking with my mind...
(, Thu 12 Jan 2012, 12:02, 3 replies)

(, Thu 12 Jan 2012, 11:53, Reply)
Speed Trap Head Fuck.
Traffic fun? Park your car on a semi busy side street put on a luminous builders waistcoat and hold up a blow dryer. Watch how many cars slow down for your speed trap.
(, Thu 12 Jan 2012, 11:52, 14 replies)
17% amusing
I was teaching a class of 20 second year undergraduates. We were talking about the number of users of various web browsers.
"But remember," I added in what I thought was a dry tone, "88.3% of Internet statistics are made up on the spot."
They diligently wrote it down. I didn't bother making any more jokes that term.
(, Thu 12 Jan 2012, 11:50, 1 reply)
This was in the newsletter recently, but... LOST CAT
It started with a sign. "LOST CAT", it said, with a big picture of a lion. For shits and giggles, I pinned it on the local community noticeboard and took a picture. Within days, however, it had gone, the victim of the board's humourless self-appointed guardian.

Right, two can play at that game: Up went a photo of the original Lost Cat sign with the caption "LOST SIGN". Take THAT. And he did, the bastard.

In the weeks that followed, up went LOST "LOST SIGN" SIGN, and then LOST 'LOST "LOST SIGN" SIGN' SIGN.

And then, we went for the kill: A notice that only Noticeboard Guardian (who I picture rocking back and forth in the reading room of the local library, wondering what fresh hell awaits) would see. Like THIS:

1. Pin smaller pic to noticeboard

2. Pin larger pic on top

3. My sworn enemy who clears down the board will be the ONLY person to see the smaller pic

4. ???


All illustrated neatly HERE

The Head-Fuck continues, but our enemy has more-or-less given up trying to censor us. Some of the notices actually stay up for weeks. You may wish to follow the latest HERE. We've even managed to get B3TA's very own Smug Bastard involved.

(, Thu 12 Jan 2012, 11:48, 11 replies)
As well as having chronic SMS (short man syndrome) my old boss was paraniod about losing his hair.

A bunch of us used to stand near him and stare at the top of his head until he noticed panicked and ran off to look in a mirror....... we did this everyday for months. In the end he had time off for "stress"... I'd feel bad but he was a git.
(, Thu 12 Jan 2012, 11:46, Reply)
Carrot Tax
I can't take the credit for this one, but a friend managed to convince another mutual friend that if you want to post any fruit or vegetables in the UK, then you have to pay "Carrot Tax".

I did manage to (briefly) convince the same chap that guinea pigs used to travel in packs in the wild & could devour a cow in two minutes, though, which helps.
(, Thu 12 Jan 2012, 11:44, Reply)
Fake email address
It's a bit of a classic scam but this was back in 2001 or something. A friend at work was leaving to go travelling. We knew that he was doted on by this fat, boring frump of a girl who no-one liked, mostly cos she was a tiresome, unfunny drip. And fat. And boring. Anyway, the guy left the company and headed to the far east. A friend and I decided that it would be fun to create a Hotmail address for him and to start sending round-robin emails to people in the company (including us) telling us all about his adventures. I knew a few people who'd been travelling so I was able to colour the stories in with little details that would cause the reader not to question what was happening. In the meantime, we decided to send emails from this guy to the drippy fatso telling her that he fancied her all along, but he was afraid to say anything because me and my mate would have taken the piss. This went down well. She came over to my desk and told me all about the email. At first I thought she'd busted me but she'd fallen for it hook line and sinker. So this guy, we'll call him "Rob" carried on emailing us with news of his adventures. In another episode "Rob" emailed us telling us that he was going to swim to an island where he'd heard about a beach party, but that there was a typhoon whipping up. My friend and I decided that Rob wouldn't email for a while in order to convince people that he'd drowned. But lo and behold, he popped up again in Australia where he was filmed on the set of Neighbours. Again, entirely fabricated but "Rob" told everyone to watch out for the episode when Toady and Flick go to the beach and to look out for him in the background holding a surfboard. Lies, lies, lies. And finally, we enrolled him in a cult in New Zealand. We felt it was going a bit silly at this point so stopped with the round robins. The individual emails to drippy fatso also dried up over a period of time because she'd just whinge about having a boyfriend but that she was sure something could be worked out. It was pathetic. I don't think we actually came clean until years later. Her reaction was a thinly veiled mask saying "you're pathetic" whereas I think she was actually crushed. Did I feel bad about it? A little. Would I do it again. Fuck yeah. As for the guy who went travelling, the present that we gave him on his return was the email address and its password so he could log on and see what sort of fun we'd been having in his name. He thought it was fucking brilliant. Job done.
(, Thu 12 Jan 2012, 11:43, 5 replies)
i farted in a dog
(, Thu 12 Jan 2012, 11:34, Reply)
My current project at work
is to fix a bunch of issues on the Linux server so that we can ultimately turn off the Linux server and rebuild the entire site on the Microsoft server.

I often wonder whether they're just messing with me.
(, Thu 12 Jan 2012, 11:31, 1 reply)
Shaved my brothers eyebrow off once.
Does that count?
(, Thu 12 Jan 2012, 11:28, 2 replies)

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