» Stalked

Famous person off the telly
A female friend of mine who strikes me, these days, as being quite, quite normal, confessed to going through a most excellent secret stalking phase.

She was a student, in north London. Being a student, she had time on her hands. One day she spotted a certain stand-up comedian pass her in the street, which was close to where she lived. These days you'd know him off a certain comedy panel quiz show.

As it happened, she fancied him. So she followed him and worked out which was his house.

Then she began her project. She printed up a note offering her services as a cleaner, and at a competitive (but plausible) price at that. Every few days she popped one through his front door, hopefully giving the impression that it was going through every door in the street.

It worked, he rang her, and hired her. So she was in his life; free to roam his home, peek at his diary (actually I'm theorising that bit - she didn't mention it), and generally see inside the glamorous world of an up-and-coming celebrity.

And guess what? It turned out that he was an arrogant, coke-addled twat. He was rude, self-obsessed and generally obnoxious.

She decided she didn't like him after all, and jacked in the job, forever cured of her stalking inclinations.

He never even knew he had a stalker.
(Fri 1st Feb 2008, 10:52, More)

» Food sabotage

Caffeine fun
I shared a secretary with my boss. He wasn't too bad, but tended to have mood swings. After she left we kept in touch and she eventually admitted she was partly to blame for them.

This was before there was a Starbucks on every corner and she used to get coffee from the crappy drinks machine for him - he'd drink a lot over the day. She'd amuse herself by giving him an increasing proportion of decaffeinated cups over a few days, until his tolerance levels had dropped.

Then she'd wait until the day he had a big meeting, and give him superstrength coffee all morning. He'd be bouncing off the walls like he'd been slipped some speed.

Then the process would begin again. She did it to him for nearly four years...
(Sat 20th Sep 2008, 5:54, More)

» Best Films Ever

Ten movie scenes
Seeing a movie as it's meant to be, at the cinema, is going to beat watching it on DVD. It's about who you're with, getting completely immersed in the experience, and, eventually nostalgia. In entirely non-chronological order:

1. Reservoir Dogs, Bracknell. The only time I've ever walked out of the cinema, gone straight back to the desk and bought another ticked to watch it all over again. Remember, this was the first Tarantino movie. The dialogue, the twists, the music, the sheer style. Seeing that without knowing what was coming. The best two hours of my cinema life. The delight at discovering I could still be exhilarated by stuff.

2. Ghostbusters, Basingstoke ABC. The teachers were on strike, several hundred kids laying siege to the front doors of the cinema with nothing evenly vaguely like a queue. Popcorn and crisps flying backwards and forwards in the projection. The kids have taken over the cinema.

3. Candyman, Aldershot. On my own, during the late afternoon, so scared I thought of leaving. Getting into the car in twilight, so affected I looked in the boot to check nobody was hiding there. Later watching it with my girlfriend on DVD, wondering what all the fuss was about.

4. Jeepers Creepers. Balham. Sitting next to the girl I was about to have the best sex of my life with. Both pretending to be scared as an excuse for our first hand holding.

5. Return of the Jedi, Southampton. Arriving ten minutes late, with my dad. Hiding in the cinema when it ended so we could watch the bit that we'd missed.

6 Crash, Camberley. The David Cronenberg one involving people getting off on sex with accident victims, not the more recent one. Watching people leaving the cinema in waves - first the ones who were revolted, then the ones who were bored.

7. Dances With Wolves, the Directors Cut, Bracknell. Getting into a bet at dinner beforehand that I couldn't eat a 64oz steak. Sleeping for the entire four or five hours.

8. Star Trek marathon, also Bracknell. Sneaking in pizza, finally falling asleep during the seventh one.

9. Citizen Cane, Brighton. Putting off seeing it for years, so I could watch it properly at the cinema. Being somewhat disappointed.

10. Casablanca, London. After years of watching it on video, seeing subtleties on the big screen I'd never spotted before. Sly pickpockets, littel details at the back of the room.

Perfect length? 89 minutes.
(Sun 20th Jul 2008, 6:26, More)

» Evil Pranks

Pron in the post
This one started with good intentions...
In a shared house in Manchester, with fellow students.
One day Kelvin comes back home with a handful of envelopes. He'd been out to post a letter, but the box had been overflowing, so he decided to use another one instead. Being a helpful type, he took the overflowing letters too. It wouldn't do, after all, for them to be stolen by a random passer-by.
But as he didn't pass another box on the way home, he decided to leave it til the morning.
Of course, we couldn't resist having a look through them.
Most of it was pretty boring. But we opened up one that was addressed to an insurance company.
It was a bloke claiming on his insurance for a broken patio window. He described how his wife had slipped over and broken it as she came in from the garden.
It sounded a bit bogus to us, so we decided to help him out.
We cut a picture out of Readers Wives (British amateur pron mag) of a 40something woman naked on some grass.
Then we stuck it to the bottom of the claim form, with the note: "Here's a picture of my wife in the garden."
And the next morning popped the letter back in the post to the insurance company.
I'd love to know what happened next.
(Mon 17th Dec 2007, 23:05, More)

» Evil Pranks

Driller killer
I'd recently moved away from my parents and had borrowed an electric drill to put up a shelf at my new place.
A few days later, I was going to be in their area as I was meeting some mates in the local pub, so I took the drill with me to drop back.
The parents were away on holiday, but my younger brother, who was about 16 then, was at home on his own.
By the time I got round to the house, it was late, and in darkness. My brotyher had gone to bed.
I had a mate with me.
So we sneaked in, and went upstairs. We plugged in the drill on the landing, I hid, and my mate turned it on and stood there.
Eventually my brother's bedroom door opened. He took one look at the stranger on the landing, cradling the whining electric drill, and fled back to his room, and hid under the duvet.
Length? I think it was a 0.5cm drill bit.
(Pop!)
(Mon 17th Dec 2007, 0:30, More)