I used to work in a lab as a doctoral student
Belonging to a well-respected academic in a prestigious UK university.

The trouble was that he had his head in a previous century. He actually had no idea what we did up there - he thought we were still in an age where all lab apparatus was made of glass and metal (plastic was something that just happened to other people apparently). In terms of scrutinizing our research, he spent more time obsessively correcting minor grammar mistakes than he did actually discussing the work that we were supposed to be doing.

As if this were not bad enough, he also had a terrible temper and a number of highly disturbing habits.

We always knew when he was coming up to the lab to check on us because you could hear the coins jingling in his pocket as he played some joyful trouser-hockey with his wedding tackle on the way. He had appalling halitosis. He had an unfortunate "habit" of putting his arm round any female students in the vicinity at the slightest excuse.

Apparently the love of his life jilted him at the altar. I can't say I was surprised. He carried a copy of the Little Book of Calm around with him, obsessively, and would visibly panic if he couldn't find it.

And boy he needed it because he had a temper like a volcano. We always used to dread the regular update meetings in the privacy of his office. It'd start out nice and friendly but then he'd find some pathetic grammatical error and start to get cross. He'd chew the corners of his mouth until he started to salivate horribly, and it'd all spiral out of control. Once, he broke the pencil he had in half and physically threatened me with the most jagged end. I didn't know whether to laugh or run away.

He didn't confine it to his office either. If he lost it in public he'd start shouting and gesticulating wildly. His favourite catchphrase - which we always knew was coming when the temper started to fray - was to stand in front of all his staff and students and yell "You're all a bunch of wankers!!!". Once we sampled it and re-worked in to a hip-hop beat. We called it the "paddy rap" and it became a source of great amusement amongst the whole department. He never found out where it came from.

He was tremendously mean. I once went with him to a conference at Leeds University where we were stood at the bar, him, me and another professor from the hosting institution. When someone came to serve the guy from Leeds ordered himself a beer and stood staring at my boss for a good minute, waiting from him to offer to buy me - a poor PhD student - a drink. When this was not forthcoming, he bought me one himself in spite of the fact we we'd only just met.

Eventually I got so sick of it that I decided not to finish my PhD and got a job instead. It was a pretty good job, and I was pleased. But telling him was an absolute nightmare. I survived his resultant wrath and, to this day, a small piece of me remains immensely satisfied that I managed to waste three years of time and funding on one of his pet projects. Bastard.
(MattDP (Squiggle), Fri 19 Jun 2009, 12:30, 3 replies)

The paddy rap.
We must have it.

Better, get the Ginger Fuher to make a clip to go with it :)
(Angie the Redneck Wonder, Fri 19 Jun 2009, 12:55, closed)

Lost to history
I'm afraid. This is going back a good ten years.
(MattDP (Squiggle), Fri 19 Jun 2009, 13:15, closed)

Hope you at least got through
the reason you were leaving was because he was a gigantic douche.

Even if ya didn't, GZ on at least taking off :)
(Scritty Bakerman., Sun 21 Jun 2009, 9:16, closed)