Im pretty bad
i was just scratching my foot and when i looked at my finger nails they were a greeny browney colour

And tasted like cheese
(abignumber, Sat 24 Mar 2007, 18:23, Reply)

Staff and customers stink!
Working at Our Price for years, there were many stinkers. My first 'management challenge' was telling a member of staff that he honked. He was a fat lad with exceptionally greasy hair in a rigid ponytail. The strange thing was that whatever the weather he always wore a sweater and at least two t-shirts. Could be that added to the odour issue?
And the customers could be even worse. There was a regular who was known as 'Cheddar Gorge' because of his awsome stink. By far the worst location to work was Victoria Station as we had a non-stop stream of rough sleepers coming in out of the cold. One had to be ejected by two of us standing either side of him spraying air-freshener at him for ten minutes.
Two days later the bastard came back and took a dump in the corner of the store. Cleaning up tramp poo is a non-transferable skill in the real world, but I've only ever had MacJobs so I don't care. (And I got someone else to do it, that's delegation.)
(Mr Steve is jobless and fancyfree!, Sat 24 Mar 2007, 16:15, Reply)

Cat Man
I used to have a regular thing with a guy who lived in a communal house in Berlin. He basically had the one tiny room in which was his bed, sofa bed, TV and his cat's litter tray.

This stank as cat litter trays tend to do and after a while I got used to its presence (which can't be said about the rotting cat food and cat milk in the kitty dish, but you can't have everything).

I went to visit him one evening and noticed he'd had a bit of a furniture move around. After opening up the sofa bed and getting dirty, we settled down to sleep. It was at this point I noticed the cat litter smell seemed to be stronger than normal.

It was only when I heard light footsteps on clay granules next to my ear and turned my head to see a moist cat turd slowly sliding from a fully relaxed feline arsehole inches from my face, I realised that he had put the tray right next to the sofabed.

I will never forget that raw meaty smell ever.

Ack.
( Dixipoos Bye Bye Blackbird, Sat 24 Mar 2007, 16:10, Reply)

Not me but a friend
Whilst at university a friend of mine use to work Saturday's at a supermarket in the centre of town. They would often get some strange characters come in but there was one customer who took the biscuit.

Just before closing one day a tramp walked in and started wondering the isles, he was obviously homeless as he was dressed like only a homeless person could, wearing the very best that the Red Cross could offer. Anyway whilst standing in the middle of an isle this tramp proceeded to take a shit. He didn't take down his trousers, he instead decided to take a shit in his trouser and then proceeded to shake his leg until the rancid turd landed on the floor. At this point one of the managers came over and asked the tramp to leave and my mate was instructed to clean up this mess.

My friend decided that instead of putting on some gloves, picking the turd up, disposing of it and then cleaning the floor he would just go and get the floor cleaner. Looking back on it that was probably a bad idea.

The floor cleaner consisted of a motorized swirling mop that could spray water and soap onto the floor as it span. My mate turned on the floor cleaner and proceeded to run over the turd. Instead of the desired effect of removing this unsightly thing, it proceeded to smear it across the whole of the isle. It went from being a nice white clean floor with a singular turd to a mess of brown shitty water. When the manger saw this my mate got a right bollocking and was told to get a mop and a bucket and sort this mess out properly this time.
(hooj was born on the, Sat 24 Mar 2007, 16:00, Reply)

There was a grubby looking woman in a Tesco I was in,
she was drenched with piss.
Also, I once wore the same pair of pants for a week.
And my dog gets muddy sometimes.
I don't really have a good story for this question.
( Sir Sand GOBLIN ^popular page dis, Sat 24 Mar 2007, 15:43, Reply)

He said it was a birthmark because he's had it all his life.
I know it's ringworm.
( KersaI Missive Free Michael Shields! with Monday's Liverpool Echo, Sat 24 Mar 2007, 15:40, Reply)

I used to work with cancer patients
and, as anyone who's done this work will tell you, there can be a certain 'cancer smell'.

It's not the patients' fault, and it's certainly not a matter of hygiene - it's just an unfortunate physiological fact.

One particularly unlucky patient radiated this aroma in spades. He was a lovely bloke, bless him.

While he was waiting for a hospice place he lived in a sideroom and went home for weekends.
As soon as he left, staff would descend on this room, fling open the window, strip the bed and scrub every possible inch of mattress, floor, equipment and woodwork in the effort to remove the smell.

It never worked. Not until he left for good, whereupon the smell melted away. Weird.
(Juan Quar is clinging to her front teeth on, Sat 24 Mar 2007, 15:23, Reply)

My friend...
Once said that if you don't wash for 3-4 weeks your body will clean itself.

1 month later I smelt appalling and my hair was capable of coating enough chinese food to last a lifetime.

He was speaking bollocks.
(Good Looking Deity Grew a magnificent beard on, Sat 24 Mar 2007, 15:09, Reply)

Toilet issues
I work for an office supplies chain and last summer someone let a customer through to use the staff-only toilets. It was a sunday and as we don't have many staff working that day, no one else used the blokes loo until nearly the end of the day. Turns out this customer had shat himself on the floor and i suppose must have *tried* to clean it up as it was smeared everywhere (including some on the walls. None on the sink though so i imagine he didn't wash his hands). On closer inspection he had also trodden in it and left a lovely trail leading out of the staff-only area and halfway across the shop floor

As a rule we are not allowed to let customers through to use the toilets (something about insurance), so we used CCTV to find out which staff member had let him through, and then we made him clear it up. I used to nip in and use the blokes if our loo was occupied, but funnily enough now i prefer to wait...
(HisWench, Sat 24 Mar 2007, 14:21, Reply)

My cow-orker John.
I'm not changing names to protect the guilty. This soap-dodging hippie I have the misfortune to work with named John, on a regular basis comes to work in a place where the accommodation has no baths, only shower blocks. And then refuses to be clean because "I don't like showers, man." In the past he's been frogmarched into the showers, thrown soap and told not to come back out until he's actually clean. He's been sprayed with air freshener. We have officially complained about him to the boss. Nothing works. The dirty bastard wears the same shirt for a whole run of shifts. Complete with food stains from the previous run of shifts. He once came here with a pair of salmon pink jeans. They were grey when he left because they were not washed for five months. Upon being due to leave he told our admin bloke "I'm thinking of donating some of my clothes to the Seaman's Mission in Stanley." Admin Bloke's reply was "John, they need to be fucking incinerated, not donated. A tramp would turn them down."
The office cat loves him though. Probably because he smells like cat food.
( stuj (^(^;;^)^) GO TEAM SPIDERS!(^(^;;^)^), Sat 24 Mar 2007, 14:08, Reply)

Caught out
I saw my mother on her knees in front of my father once when I was a child, she informed me she was getting toothpaste from daddys special nozzle.


So why social services took me away for doing the same I'll never know..
(The_Greyhound wrote www.luckymcdanger.blog.co.uk on, Sat 24 Mar 2007, 13:53, Reply)

Studying
Without fail whenever it is exam time at uni the only times I shower or be clean is the day of an exam.

My theory is I aint leaving the house for anything else so why should I bother? Not nice I know but c'mon...I'm sitting at a desk for 9 hours.

Plus I reckon most men like their own smell!
(puggs, Sat 24 Mar 2007, 13:52, Reply)

Sixth form
In the common room. Some wag left a shite in a plastic bag for us all to stand around and admire.
(Chickenwire social lubricator extraordinaire, Sat 24 Mar 2007, 13:48, Reply)

As a child
Of about seven or eight,I went through an entire term of not brushing my teeth. I couldnt be bothered, I found it boring and couldnt smell my own breath so what was the problem?

Now I moisturize daily, bathe twice daily and have started brushing my teeth every second thursday. I keep the little fingernail on my left hand long for those itchy moments in the anal area and use the right hands fingernails for all other itches. You dont wanna itch with your bum finger, think of the diseases you're spreading across your skin.

Oh yeah, to treat myself, I save the cheese underneath my helmet up all week then on sunday use my bum itch fingernail to scrape it off the old chap and feed it to the pet terrier. After cleaning my finger with bleach, the slight burning sensation gives me the raging horn. So to relieve myself I bugger the dog afterwards.

It's not meant to be funny, it's just what I do.
(The_Greyhound wrote www.luckymcdanger.blog.co.uk on, Sat 24 Mar 2007, 13:34, Reply)

you know what they say: if a bird shits on your windscreen

you should give up on internet dating.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sat 24 Mar 2007, 11:28, Reply)

Someone I Currently Work With
Recently an "all in internal" company email was sent out in regards to the state of the ladies toilet on the ground floor at my work. Turns out that some "lady" had decided rather than poo in the toilet, instead she'd shit all over the seat and a bit on the floor. A friend of mine Kate actually witnessed the aftermath and brilliantly she told me that after the person had spilled their guts everywhere they'd still gone to the trouble of flushing - amazing. I'd expect it from blokes but not from girlies who are meant to be cute and do little poos. I look at all the girls on the company floor in a different light now and dating anyone from my company is now a definate no in case she shits in my sink or summat.
(sugardannyoh, Sat 24 Mar 2007, 11:03, Reply)

Martin
Noticed a few of the stinkers mentioned are called Martin, I have my own tale to tell about a stinky Martin.

Martin had Whiskers that would of made a walrus proud, What looked like green fungus growing at the top of his teeth n around his gums and a almighty sweaty smell that was unbearable.

Martin just appeared at school one day in year 10, for those interested the school was in Stevenage, and it wasnt one of the good ones.

My first encounter with Martin was as we were Qing up outside for drama. I was walking across the yard towards the drama block and i became aware of a rather strong smell and it stunk.
Martin was stood with my friends and our first encounter went something like this:

Me: What the fuck is that smell

Friends: Shut up Clunge

M: Can u not smell it?

F: Shut it

M: Christ thats bad, it seems to be coming from new boy.

F: Dont be a twat, leave him alone.

Fuck me, a week later they were all ripping the piss out of him calling him all sorts of really crude smell related names and throwing deoderant cans at him, hypocritcal bastards.

Shit story i know but iv been awake for 28 hrs now due too some rather good base and i needed something to do.

Length? A side effect is severe shrinkage!
(Clunge, Sat 24 Mar 2007, 10:54, Reply)

My housemate.
Probably a bit of a non-event now that I've read through the other horrors listed below, but anyway:

My new house mate has been here for about five months, & during that time, he has not once washed his bed linen or his bath towel. I have to hold my breath if he leaves it in the bathroom, or if his bedroom door is open. He doesn't wash his clothes more than once a fortnight, which would be acceptable, except for the fact he only owns two pairs of socks, one pair of trousers & two shirts (and seemingly, no underpants). Amazingly, his bodily hygiene is quite good, but I only wish he tried as hard with the washing up/toilet/bath/kitchen/floor. He is of the opinion that it is beneath him & only gives a token effort.

I shall enjoy asking the landlord to use my house mate's security deposit to replace the mattress in his bedroom.
( Hidden Mouse, Sleeping Kitten Gromada? Gromada!, Sat 24 Mar 2007, 10:53, Reply)

Working in IT, as I do...
This QoTW is a bit of a gift to anyone who works in IT. I've worked with some right weirdos in my time, but there's one that always stands out.

I'll call him IanD, because that was his logon ID. And it's enough so that he'll know it's him. I don't think he'll be offended, as he was quite proud of this one at the time.

I joined a company in Oxford, known for high-quality work, and supremely able lunatics. One or two of the people from there are well-known Internet loons. Honest!

They employed one person by the name of IanD, as mentioned earlier. A few months before I joined, the MD had taken IanD aside, and through the dual media of detailed diagrams and threats of blunt object trauma, had managed to get him to shower, sometimes. A few times a week, anyway.

The next problem was tooth-brushing. IanD's teeth weren't white. They were instead a bright, neon highlighter yellow. Somewhere around #CCCC00, or possibly #EAEA00. His gums were, by contrast, a really angry red, like fire-engine red (oh, #EE0000 if you must). When he talked, which was often, loudly, and voluminously, you could see his gums bleed across his teeth. It was like watching a road accident.

Naturally, his breath stank like rancid dog poop on a hot day. It was enough to curl your hair. Luckily this meant that you generally stayed far enough away from him that none of his spit landed on you as he talked.

So why, you ask, did any sane company employ this guy? Well, other than observing that the company was known for employing unusual people (hey, they hired me!) he was quite simply one of the most brilliant coders I've ever seen. I saw him hit a problem once, and he simply stayed in the office until he'd produced some utterly insane code to sort it. This is the main reason I gave up programming. I wasn't in the same league. Not even in the same sport. I can get programs to work, sometimes. He could make them fly. Or sing. Or anything.

What does this have to do with the QoTW? He decided one day that we should welcome new members of our happy little band. Not with the traditional 'go to the pub and drink' ceremony, but with a traditional licking. That's right. He licked people. With a tongue that looked like a rotten carpet tile. This never happened to me, but it did to one person.

Poor chap, just returned to the UK from overseas. His name starts with B, I think. He got a job in Oxford, and moved in. Halfway through his first day, B's quietly picking his way through some documentation, when the door bursts open, and IanD bounds into the room, clothes flapping open (no, really). IanD swiftly licks him across the face, then exits the room again, like a really evil-smelling hurricane. B freezes in panic for a second, then runs from the room with a hand over his mouth. He reappears about twenty minutes later, pale of face and trembling, then goes to see our manager.

B left for the day at that point, and didn't come in the following day. He turned up again the day after that, still looking rather terrified.

Apparently there was HR involvement, which still leaves me thinking 'WTF got *said*?' There's not normally anything in the company rulebook about licking co-workers.

IanD left to join a dot-com startup, and I've never heard from him since. But I'm sure he's still out there somewhere...
(purplegod counting down for Christmas!, Sat 24 Mar 2007, 10:30, Reply)

Little old ladies can be so... rancid
Myself and Mrs. God have a little routine. She works late on a Thursday, so after she finally finishes, I collect her in the Godmobile, and we go to the Chinese round the corner. Being creatures of habit, they pretty much know what we want, so that saves time ordering.

One particular day, in we go at our usual time. We order, and take a seat on the bench. In shuffles a little old lady, and suddenly things take a turn for the worse in the olfactory department. She gives her order, and shuffles over to the gas fire in the corner.

Myself and Mrs God exchange worried glances. Hers doesn't fit me, so we swap back. Over the next few minutes, we become increasingly aware of the rising stench of stale wee coming from the little old lady. Well, when I say 'increasingly aware', I mean something more like 'trying not to hurl'.

The doorbell pings, and someone else comes in, and hits this wall of stench. Ew. He looks around frantically. We point at the little old lady. He leaves again. Then, the lady who runs the shop walks back into the front, to take the order. And hits the stench. She murmurs something in Chinese (I presume) and tries to smile. It doesn't work. She disappears again.

At this point, we're considering running for our lives. We've already paid, but I can't see myself ever wanting to eat again at this point. I'm feeling quite sick, which is unusual for me when I'm not drunk.

After what seems like three years of having our nasal passages battered by this hideous stench, our food arrives. Mrs. God grabs the food while I hold the door, and we run for it!

In the car, I notice an unusual silence from Mrs. God. Turns out she's huffing the bag of food, trying to clear her nose out. Half an hour after getting home, we're finally hungry enough to risk it.

And the food was great! As always. But we did spare a thought for anyone else who'd gone in there that night.

Never saw here in there again, thank goodness. If she was in there, I'd have chips instead, I think.
(purplegod counting down for Christmas!, Sat 24 Mar 2007, 10:13, Reply)

i am a fitlhy slob
I AM actually one of those peoples with terrible personal hygiene. I almoust never shower nor change clothes.I reek of urine,sweat and sperm.
People have started to avoid me at work and I have become I local joke.
I dont remember how it started,but everything since is quite blury. After work I eat till I pass out on the couch,wake up at 05,jerk off,go to work,slob around for 8 hours,go home and repeat the procedure.In weekends I sit in a chair and eat/sleep/jerk off from friday after work til monday morning.
Fucking pathetic-
(frankling, Sat 24 Mar 2007, 10:09, Reply)

wee
for a brief spell, i lived with a boy who would merrily wee on the floor either side of the loo and leave it. Not sure thats technically *personal* hygine, but it was certainly an unpleasant suprise when popping to the bathroom barefoot in your pjs.
(skankgirl, Sat 24 Mar 2007, 10:07, Reply)

Not all fat people are stinky. But I found one that was...
For instance, Mrs God, who's deliciously curvaceous, but doesn't smell at all. Except of perfume.

Picture the scene. Myself and Mrs God are shopping. We're in a hurry, so I suggest popping to a local shop that I know. And so we do. We get everything we need, and then head for the tills. Mrs. God has a very acute sense of smell (She can tell if I've had cheese and onion crisps for lunch. No, really!) but on this occasion it seems to fail her briefly. We select a till, and queue. As we queue, her gorgeous nose starts to wrinkle. She knows by now that asking me if I can smell anything is wasted effort, so she doesn't.

We arrive at the front of the queue, to be greeted by the woman on the till. At this point, I become aware of an... odour. OK, this woman looks like she's been made by welding two crashed swamp donkeys together, but hey - one mustn't judge. I unload the shopping, trying to ignore the heaving noises coming from Mrs God. And failing... Eventually she moves the trolley, grabs hold of me and drags me bodily to the other end of the till. "Can you... err..." I feebly stutter. "That's why *you're* standing there!" she hisses, malevolently.

Well, blessed if I know what she was going through, but me with my Beta 2 sense of smell, I thought I was going to die. It smells as if they saved the best bits of the swamp donkeys to make the till lady with, then rubbed the other bits with rancid tramp pants, then left it in a box in the sun for a week.

Eventually we make good our escape. I have to pay for the shopping as Mrs God is outside the shop with the trolley, trying to hold onto her lunch. As I flee the area... she turns to greet the next customer, and I get another waft of it.

I catch up with Mrs. God. She fixes me in the twin beams of her heart-meltingly gorgeous blue eyes, and says the words I've been waiting to hear: "We are never going back in that shop. Ever."

Did I mention that this was my local shop, one that I'd used for years? Well, gentle reader, I did the only thing that a man could do in this position. I... moved.
(purplegod counting down for Christmas!, Sat 24 Mar 2007, 10:02, Reply)

SUPERMARKET SHELF STACKERS
The rancid bacteria coated 'pits of the chaps who stack shelves! There is always at least one in every store. (He stacks tins and jars in Tescos, Sidcup)

YOU WORK IN A SHOP THAT SELLS DEODORANT!!!

WASH, YOU FILTHY FUCKERS!
(Beejster, Sat 24 Mar 2007, 4:38, Reply)

I'm pretty neat, but too laid back
I basically get stuck in a bad routine, that I have to try and break.

PS, I have this ball cap that I've had for a couple of years, and it has sweat stains all over the rim, but I don't feel like replacing it, and I don't feel like hand washing it (it's all wool).
(travishayes89 is tired of people starting fights at school., Sat 24 Mar 2007, 4:27, Reply)

O why didn't she take the gotdamned tic-tac...?
I remember my language arts teacher from middle school quite well...not because of anything like making learning fun (she didn't) or being a total twit (she wasn't), but because of her breath. I swear it smelled as if she sucked on unwashed ass-flavored candy every single day. Nobody in my class could stand the wrath that was her breath.

One of the kids in my class offered her some of the tic-tacs he had with him--not outta generosity, but on a dare. He offered, she politely refused. We were all like "no, whyyyyy?!!"
( svnynne damn near forgot she was here on, Sat 24 Mar 2007, 4:24, Reply)

Please note:
Most of the stories in this QOTW are about men. Women (mostly) arn't that revolting. Except the crazy ones, but that's cats not the women themselves.
(Lupetherabbit Went straight into smirk mode on, Sat 24 Mar 2007, 3:07, Reply)

Nice smelly people
It's always hard when the smelly person is someone you actually like. I used to work in a very small charity call centre, and we didn't have assigned seating. As a result staff would turn up half an hour early to get the best seats. If you didn't, you'd end up with Audrey's seat.

Audrey was a lovely lady who, herself, didn't seem to smell particularly bad. Her seat didn't smell bad either - I know, I got desperate enough to bend down and sniff it. But the area around the desk smelt permanently of piss and feet. At least, I assume that's what it was. I discovered what my boss actually called "the wee seat" when I came in on crutches with a broken ankle. Within half an hour I asked to go home because I "wasn't feeling well"... nausea will do that to you.
(Emily Bruce-Dickinson http://jovialfellow.blogspot.com/, Sat 24 Mar 2007, 2:35, Reply)

When I'm feeling horny, I fuck handfuls of my own excrement.
My flatmate sucks my cock afterwards, and doesn't even give me time to wash it. He's a sick bastard.
(__, Sat 24 Mar 2007, 1:44, Reply)

My little brother and I are pretty much opposites.
::apologies in advance for the length of this post::

My brother (who is almost 2 years younger than me) and I are basically a study in contrast.
I am an absolute neatnik. I shower, at the very least, once a day (I usually only shower once a day in winter, because otherwise my skin gets so dry and dehydrated that it'd be uncomfortable to shower more than that). In the summer--God's Blind Spot, USA, where I live, gets hotter than Hell's furnace from June through August--I shower up to three times a day (once in the morning, once after lunch if I've been outside or whatnot, and once before bed). Of course, I always shower after going to the barn to go horseback-riding. I'm notoriously hygienic, basically. The bed linens are changed every 5 days. I change my toothbrush every month. I clean my hairbrushes once every 2 weeks in a bleach solution. I wash and condition my hair every day. I change my razor every 4 or 5 shaves (and I shave every day). And I always apply deodorant--twice--once right after drying off after I shower, and then once more before I leave the house. I use Victoria's Secret Pure Seduction fragrance collection religiously--and generously. I'm always told how good I smell and how fresh my breath is (NOTE: not to brag or anything, but it's true! This one random guy in this department store walked pretty close past me one day, and goes, "Ohhh my Gawwwdd! You smell DELICIOUS!" I smiled politely and then promptly walked/ran out the store... AWWWKKKKWARRRDDD...).
My brother... oh, sweet Lord, where do we start?...
NOTE: MY BROTHER IS GROSS. READ ON ONLY IF YOU FEEL YOU ARE ABLE TO DEAL WITH HIS NASTINESS.
When he extracts blemishes, he leaves the pus on the bathroom mirror.
He showers every day, praise Jesus, but uses plain old soap on his hair (He thinks shampoo isn't manly. I say I don't care if it's manly or not. It's called LICE PREVENTION. Thank God none of us have ever had the bastards.).
Speaking of his hair... he wears his hair kind of longish for a boy (as in a little shaggy and bangs down to his eyebrows--he's got curly hair, though, so it doesn't just hang there and look gross), but it goes over his forehead and produces MASSIVE amounts of oil, which leaves his forehead VERRRRY shiny. GROSS.
He is filthy.
Also, I caught him ironing a shirt and jeans out of the DIRTY CLOTHES HAMPER today!!!! I quickly unplugged the iron and tossed him a new shirt and jeans and told him NEVER to do that again.
(Mademoiselle Dustman picked a bouquet of oopsie daisies for you on, Sat 24 Mar 2007, 1:34, Reply)