Back in 2002, I was in a car accident and was in the hospital for some time. My gf ended up cheating on me while I was in there with some Cook from a restaurant who dealt drugs on the side.
Screw her, I was glad she was gone, who wants someone like that in their life. I was beginning to move on, but this asshole would call me occasionally bragging that he took her from under me. I didn’t get it. I started to get more mad at him then her.
I found out his email address and was able to get his secret question with some research.
I got into his email and found a picture of him and a good buddy I guess with their arms around each other posing for a picture. Since I was already on bedrest due to the car accident, I took my time did some research digging through his old emails about this friend and other life stuff.
I then spent the day writing a very long and detailed message about him being a homosexual, and how he was coming out of the closet, and he was madly in love with said friend from picture and they were going to get married and try to adopt children etc.
It was really well written and very detailed.
I then send the email out to everyone in his address book and everyone that had ever sent him an email. Golden I thought.
..But it got even better.
Not only was his friend not gay, but he was engaged, and the fiancee did not like this at all, I guess it caused quite a shit storm, because the fiancee thought these guys spent too much time together anyways.
..but it got even better, (or worse).
Apparently the dickhead’s mother about 10 years ago, gave herself to god and became a nun. So you can imagine her reaction when her little angel, was doing this horrible sin. (I made references to them being lovers for years in the letter.)
Needless to say, it caused a giant shit storm with everyone in his life.
It was pretty evil, but the guy was an asshole loser, and I enjoyed every minute of it.
tl;dr – Guy was a dick who wouldn’t leave me alone about stealing my gf, sent out homosexual confession letter from his email. Hilarity ensues.
I hit my (ex) husband over the head with a 30.06 (?) deer rifle many, many years ago. Then, I grabbed my baby girl and ran. Saw him fall and just left. drove to my moms house the next town over.
Back story. He was a VN vet with PTSD and very violent. He had been in a drug rage for several days. I had been out at the grocery store with the baby and had just come home. I put my little girl down in the den and went to check on him. When I opened the door, he was crouched on the floor pointing the rifle at me. He began ranting that I was having an affair with my doctor (who was about 70 and had been my doctor since I was a kid). He pulled the trigger on the rifle and it made a horrible click…I can still hear it…but it misfired or wasn’t loaded. Anyway, I turned to run and he threw it at me and began beating me pretty badly. He got me down and was strangling me. I remember thinking “I’m going to die.” Somehow, I got up and tried to run to my little girl…thinking he wouldn’t hurt me in front of her. He grabbed a brick (he was a brickmason and had been building a fireplace in our room) and started towards the door saying that “___ would be better off dead than having a whore like me for a mother.” I grabbed the rifle and swung it at him and ran.
When I got to my mom’s, I was bleeding and battered and didn’t even know it. My shirt was completely torn off and I didn’t know it. I had a black eye and broken teeth and didn’t know it. All I could think of was to get to my mama and make sure my baby was safe.
I had to hide for months after this…I still fear him even though he’s now 62 and in a locked facility.
That’s my sordid story.
I didn’t listen to my ex when she needed to talk because I was busy and didn’t want to take the time. She hung herself 1/2 hour later.
My ex boyfriend…He wanted to talk to me and i kept ignoring him. He later shot himself in the head. I still feel like shit.
I had been lazy throughout high school, and never really tried very hard, but just hard enough to maintain a high B/ low A average. Senior year rolls around, and I’m applying to colleges and applying for scholarships and stuff. I speak to our school counselor who tells me that due to my high ACT score, I would be eligible for a $30,000 scholarship, but only if I was in the top 10% of my class. Well, she prints out the rankings and it turns out I’m ranked 15 out of 142 students. Fuck me.
I talk to her about my options regarding my rank, and she says there’s really nothing I can do to move up, as it is too late in my high school career. I accept this, and just figure I will have to take out shitloads of loans for school, and end up in debt for years.
So Christmas break comes and goes, and upon returning to school, one of my classmates isn’t there, due to a serious mental breakdown right before school let out for the break. She’d always been a little crazy and I figured the breakdown would happen any day. Anyway, I talk to a couple of people about it, and evidently one of my friends, who used to date her, had talked to her and he said that she would be out of school for several weeks to a few months. The conversation continues and we get on the subject of how smart she was and how high her class ranking was, almost to the point of her being valedictorian.
SO I gets me an idea. What if I call her up and take advantage of her state, say a couple of mean things and maybe convince her to switch schools or drop out or something? Once she’s gone, I’ll be in the top 10% and be eligible for that fat scholarship!
So I go through with the plan. I call her and tell her that I’m calling as a friend, and just wanted to let her know that even though the other students in our class are “grateful she’s finally gone” and “glad they don’t have to put up with that crazy bitch’s shit for a while”, I’m still there for her. I say I have to go and hang up.
She kills herself 2 days later.
I got the scholarship.
In high school, there was a girl in the year below me. She must have had confidence issues, and really wanted to be friends. She was just irritating and clingy, but no matter how mean I was to her, she just wouldnt go away and find other people to annoy. There was a janitors closet with a toilet to the side in the corridor that ran along the assembly hall, so one night after the school musical wrapped up, I told her I had a surprise for her. She let me blindfold her, and lead her to the janitors closet, I had her climb up on top of the toilet seat, and tied her hands to a beam above her head.
Then went home.
I gave someone a Nickelback CD.
I made a milk bomb. In my high school cafeteria I took a plastic screw top pint of milk and half emptied it and put some lunch meat in it and screwed the top back on tight. One of my friends found a little heater vent in the cafeteria that we could wiggle off and place down inside without anyone seeing it. We let it sit in there for probably a month during the winter… Mind you the heat was probably constantly on, blowing over the entire bottle.
After a month we could no longer contain ourselves with excitement about what could have grown within that little bottle. So we pulled it out, went over to the freshman section of the cafeteria (we were seniors) and quickly cranked the bottle open and made a dash for the exit into the school’s courtyard.
No more than thirty seconds later there was a mass exodus of students covering their mouths and trying not to be sick. We wanted to be nowhere near the incident, but from several eyewitness reports, we caused several people to immediately vomit. If nothing else we cleared the cafeteria of about three hundred students in a matter of minutes with the vile odor.
I was dating a girl who had become incredibly dull and boring to me. I decided to dump her, and just before I could get around to doing so, she told me she was pregnant. I was right pissed off, but I held my cool and thought about it, and told her to give me a few days to come to terms with this. I don’t want kids, and certainly didn’t want to be permanently attached to the vapid girl for life, so after my few days I came back and told her I’d had to think about things, and I’d come to a decision. Now, my GF was a very moralistic person who was totally against abortion as she considered it murder. I told her that I had a family history of severe genetic disorders (lie), and that I’d spoken to my physician and he’d advised against me ever having kids (lie). She initially wanted to ‘let God handle it’ so she keep to her morals, but I wore her down and convinced her to get an abortion, as that’d be the merciful thing to do. The day came, the deed was done, and she came home. That night, I told her I wanted sex (which she obviously couldn’t have, seeing as she’d just had the procedure that day), and guilted her into letting me fuck her in the ass, which was something she swore she’d never do. After that was done, the next morning I told her I couldn’t be with her anymore as I felt terrible guilt over the abortion, and she reminded me of that guilt.
I was involved in a drunken fling with a woman I don’t find particularly attractive at one point a few years ago. She was one of those women who acts slutty at parties / etc, probably out of a lack of self-esteem and has severe personal issues. For the next two years I proceeded to only be nice to her when I was horny, and then basically ignore her after that, being rude and curt with her whenever we spoke. After two years of this, she got a clue and decided that she ought to move on, quit dealing with me, and got a boyfriend. This annoyed me, since she was my plaything. Keep in mind, I didn’t particularly like this woman or find her attractive. So I got in touch with her, and over a period of a couple months went from acting friendly to convincing her I had been a victim of emotional issues during our previous interactions, and that I was better now. I convinced her that I was in love with her. Around this time, she found out that she was pregnant by her boyfriend. I still managed to talk her into leaving him one night when she was over visiting me. She phoned him up while I was sitting on the couch, and broke up with him. I got her to have sex with me that night, and the next day told her I felt awful for making her leave her child’s father, that I’d made a mistake, and that we shouldn’t see each other again.
He never took her back, and while she at least had a job and some future before all this, now she’s a single mother on welfare living in some shit area of town. To this day, she still tries to talk to me sometimes, since she feels that I am one of her ‘only real friends’. Her life is what I’ve made it into.
It makes me smile.
I told my biological mother that “just because you got laid doesn’t make you a Mom.”
When I was like 9 years old, we were making forts in the rainforest and stumbled into this guys pot patch. Being the idiots we were, we took it to our mom and she called the cops. The dude ended up getting 10 years. Now that I understand the context, and how bullshit it all is, I feel perpetually bad for what I did even though it was in ignorance. All the dude wanted to do was grow some fucking plants.
When I was 19 I began smoking pot, in a bad way, and dropped out. I moved back in with my parents and a buddy moved in to. We spent that winter getting high and chilling. In February he invited a girl over named Sam. I feel in love with her, and he was dating so I figured she was mine. We texted all the time and Kyle, the guy whom moved in, said she really liked me. Sam went back to CO for college and I continued my lust and she continued hers, or so I thought.
An opportunity arose to go to CO to pick up a car and that would put me near her so I was going to visit. Kyle decided to come along for the trip. We made it to Fort Collins, CO and hung out with her. On the second day I told her my feelings and she said she like Kyle. I was like WTF, he’s dating another chick. Well it turned out that didn’t matter to him and they began to hook up while I was there. I left a day later and he came with.
When we got back to Atlanta, he was forced to move out by my dad for being lazy and I happened upon a job and moved out. We maintained a relationship but I was pissed at him. When my lease ran up he offered to move into a place with me and split the rent. He was living with a different girl and she was there too. I needed revenge for that shit.
I slowly fucked with their relationship, I would bring back in the trash on his days, keep the litter dirty, basically undo all of his chores to piss Kahla off. There was rising tension and they both turned to me for advice, so I gave the worst I could. I told Kyle to be himself because he didn’t need her shit and it was better for him. I also told Kahla to be less supportive and with hold sex to try to get him straight.
Well, Kyle left to Bama with his friends one weekend and Kahla went up to her friends too. I found Kyles phone was left at the apartment. I began texting Kahla and saying that he was cheating on her, but from his phone. She got pissed, and her ex showed up thanks to a MySpace message I sent him from her account. They fucked and he managed to get Kyles number. He told Kyle all about how they fucked and he dumped her hard. She tried to say he cheated too and she had messages from him, but he just blew her off.
I had done it, I got her to cheat on him, him to dump her and wreck both of their lives royally. I wasn’t done yet however, I had one year of college left and told Kyle I’d help him start anew in anther city if he wanted to move with me to my new job location. He agreed.
I let him live rent free until he found a job. It took him two months but he got a job in retail and started to pay a bit of rent. I begun to work towards getting him fired. I would call the complaint line and leave complaints about how he kept coming on to me while working. He eventually got fired and when he came home and told me, I kicked him out for losing his job. He couldn’t find a job and begun to live on the street. Last I heard he was using meth and living in a shelter.
Rewind to 1992, my freshman year in high school. I’m going to a new private school and wasn’t doing too well at making friends. In fact, I was regularly tormented on the bus to school. There was one guy in particular that refused to leave me alone. I’ll just cut it short by saying he was extremely antagonistic.
Well, at some point in the school year I got stuck doing a video in history class with this asshole and a few other people. Since we both had the same cameras we were both in charge of video taping the assignment. We had to swap the tape back and forth a few times. At the end of the project he took the tape home and made a final edit to vhs. We submitted the final product and probably got a crappy grade.
This is where it gets interesting… I wanted my original tape back that he had used for editing. After months of harassing him for it he finally gave me the tape. Took it home and decided to show the whole family our video. So it was me, my 5 year old brother and my parents all sitting around the tv… Pop the tape in and quickly realize that this was not the right tape. It opened to someone’s basement. We hear someone fidgeting in the background who then enters the frame… nude… jacking off. The fucker video taped himself jacking off.
Once we realized what was happening my mom screamed out in hysterics, hardly able to contain herself. I popped the tape out to spare my little bro, but I immediately realized I had absolute gold in my hand.
The next day I went to school and the usual antagonism started. I very abruptly told him that he had better back off… that I had something he would never want anyone to see… something that was on the tape he gave me. I wouldn’t hesitate to give everyone in the school a copy if he didn’t back the fuck off.
Well, he said I was full of shit and elevated the antagonism. Long story short, I found a girl that hated him equally and gave her the tape. She made a vhs copy and told our whole grade about it. During lunch break our whole class (about 70+ people) gathered in a class room and played the tape. That day a legend was born: Dancin’ Danzis. The entire school found out, all the parents found out and emergency meetings were called to find a way to deal with the situation. Ultimately, the parents and school decided to do nothing, to my great satisfaction. The humiliation I imposed on this loser was so satisfying, I never thought it could feel so good.
I hope he still lives with this shame today.
I made a girl fat… and not by marrying her.
In 2003, my office got a new secretary and a new manager. The secretary, a thin blonde, was a vile she-devil, she wouldn’t do anything the staff asked (find info, set up calls, get coffee for anyone who wasn’t herself) and the manager wouldn’t do anything about it. We joked that her job title was “Internet Quality Control” because she more-or-less sent personal email and played on myspace all day, to which when she overheard, literally went to the manager in tears. Then one day I got a rather large jar of candy as a gift and she just about single-handedly consumed half of it, which pissed me off good. Then later that week, I brought in a dozen donuts and she ate half of them on her own. Upon putting the facts together, our web designer, editor and I decided to fuel the fire in something we called “Operation: Butter-Up”, where we each in turn brought in a large bag of candy to fill up my jar as fast as she could empty it. In the course of three months, she put on 20 pounds.
In a years time, she unrecognizable and along with being a crank, she was an idiot and couldn’t figure out how. Several times a week we provided her sweets and snacks of every kinds until her boyfriend dumped her, which was about eight months into the project, and she had to get a new wardrobe. We lucked out because she was rather stupid, but we had more diabolical measures lined up if she stopped eating the candy, along the lines of mixing in weight-gainer to the non-dairy creamer she was using and things of that nature. That was 2003 and she’s still big to this day, saw her on Facebook and smiled at our handiwork. Still single to this day, and I would like to think that we had something to do with it.
I created Clippy, the Microsoft Office Assistant.
In early high school, my best friend and I liked the same girl. This girl was, to put it lightly, “it”: drop-dead gorgeous, brilliant, and excelled in all things athletic. Well, my best friend didn’t know that I liked her at the same time that he did, and so when the girl and I started to date I didn’t tell my best friend for a few months, all the while he was pining after her… I finally told him after a while, and damn was he pissed. I felt like shit. But we didn’t stop hanging out even after that–he forgave me pretty quickly, which was always the moment to me that I knew that I could count on this guy like no one else. And which simultaneously made me feel like shit again, because I don’t think I would have forgiven him at the time.
Anyway, said girl and I dated for a long time, and it turned out to be the most intense, emotionally taxing, fucked-up relationship I’ve ever had. Whenever my friend and I joke about it now, we always comment on how I ended up saving him in the end. Karma’s a bitch.
One night I was at a friend’s house party and living it up as usual. My friend (owner of said house) introduces all of us to a real asshole friend of his. This guy was bragging how he just stole this teens purse over at the local burger joint. I’m not usually one to get involved or be of high morals but I’ve got a thing against stealing directly from innocent people (stores and stuff were ok at the time). So later on that night when this guy is tipsy I get him in a part of this house, just me and him.
I’ve been brooding all night over this guy so I’m really pissed (and drunk) by this time. When he turns around I’m sticking my Smith & Wesson 9mm pistol in his face. He literally shits himself but I don’t care. I take this girl’s purse from him and then make him give me his wallet ($353.00 in cash, a license, some credit cards, not much else) and all the valuable shit he has on him (gold necklace, class ring, iPod, and some weird demonic ring). I tell him to never grace the presence of me or my house friend again as I cock the hammer back on the gun, at this he pisses himself. I make him leave the party right then and there (I left him his car keys). Later on when I sobered up I drive over to the local big boxmart and get a box out back of the dumpster. I note this girl’s license address and label the box as such. I then put in her purse with all her belongings plus this guys valuables (minus the demon ring) and his $353.00. I then proceed to tape it up and ship it out to her. I then went downtown and gave this guy’s wallet to a homeless man and told him to live it up on his credit cards.
At primary school in Scotland, when I was about 9 years old, a new boy, Peter, joined the school. His family had moved up from England. He was a bit odd but we go on well enough.
After a few months, he stayed over at my house as part of a sleep-over. A few days later I was looking for something in my toy cupboard and found a pair of Y-front underpants. They weren’t mine. They were Peter’s and they had the most enormous streak of shite in them.
I gingerly put them into a clear plastic folder and the next day at school during break time I charged people 5 pence to look at them. Then someone took them from me and everybody chased Peter around the play ground, with his dirty knickers waving in the air.
Once I filled some empty corona bottles with urine, recapped them and left near the recycling bin across the street. I was hoping to see some vagrant drink one, there’s bums drinking beer outside my apartment at all hours. After an hour, someone did grab those bottles, but instead of chugging one down right away, they just put them in a backpack and scurried off. Dude didn’t look much like a hobo, very unsatisfactory experience overall. Afterwards I felt guilt.
This honestly still makes me LOATHE MYSELF, even years later. Okay this will be short and (not so) sweet: I let my boyfriend who I was living with at the time eat me out, right after I had gotten home from cheating on him. Worst part… the guy had cum inside me. Despicable me.
A girl was very obviously cheating off of me on an exam so I filled out my test with all of the wrong answers and made it pretty clear so that she could see them.
After she turned in her test while I “checked my answers”, I erased the wrong ones and put in my own answers. She was quite surprised to recieve a 0 on the final, whereas I got an A. She failed the class.
I took a girl’s midterm (it was a large class) in exchange for a BJ. I got one for taking it, and another after she got an A on it.
Me and some friend took fishing line to school one day in high school. We got into groups of two. One person held the base and the other took the loose end. We stood in the hall and “weaved” in and out of people. Thus creating a massive “web” of sorts. Mass confused followed and it was pretty damn cool.
As fun as it sounds, we ended up cutting a lot of people with it and caused a older teacher to fall and break a wrist. i know of lots of students that still have scars from it.
Somehow, it never got back to us and they are still wondering who done it. It bothers me to this day.
P.S. it still was pretty damn cool.
Back in college, my roommate was gross, she used to not take a shower for over a week, she would wear the same pair of trousers for a whole month, she would leave all her dirty (DIRRRTY) clothes on top of my freshly washed towels, she used to smoke in our tiny bathroom, and a long gross etcetera.
She used hair-removing cream to get rid of the hair in her armpits (which is totally fine) but afterwards she wouldn’t clean the sink or remove the cream bits filled up with armpit hair. Day after day, the same cream bits were there, I used to have nightmares when I thought of how gross those were. Every time I needed to brush my teeth, I felt like throwing up. After warning her kindly twice, and seeing however that she still wouldn’t do anything about it, one day I decided I would, from that moment on, clean it myself. Am I not a dream roommate? I used to leave the sink spotless, her toothbrush did the trick very well.
I used again this cleaning method when my brother kept sprinkling the toilet bowl instead of leaving it up while taking a piss. He has damn good teeth, though.
Last year, I started my 4th year of med school and got transferred to a public hospital to finish my studies, near the surrounding areas of the hospital there is a slum where thieves hide. One morning going to class I got mugged at gunpoint by two guys, they took my backpack, phone, wallet and shoes, in my backpack I had a stethoscope that was quite expensive and that my dad gave to me as a gift when I started to go to the hospital, they took it just because they wanted to screw me as I told them that I only had that and a notepad in there, I was really pissed of at the time but I could do nothing if I wanted to live.
After some months I started to do assist on the ER and one night one of the thieves came in with a laceration on his cheeks, now I’ve got to say that I live in South America and it’s a common rule that at night medics go to sleep and when a patient appears on the ER we have to evaluate them and then call the medic, which isn’t legal at all. As I was alone in the ER at that time, nurses were on their station, and I wanted to do some harm to this guy I put my act as a medic and started to suture him, which is something that I know how to do but it’ll leave a scar as I’m not very good at it yet, but leaving a scar wasn’t good enough for that scum, I wanted him to suffer so first of all I diluted the lidocaine with saline solution and applied it in a way that I was going to hurt him so I did my best to suture him without cleaning the wound, using not sterile gloves and touching all the suture materials with my bare hands before using them, when I was done with the suture I didn’t even register him on the books and send him off.
One week later I heard that the same guy came back with a nasty infection that required antibiotics and should have left him with a nice crater on his face but as he didn’t come back the same day that I’m doing my practices I don’t know what happened to him.
The day after “Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince” came out I played counter strike all day with the handle SNAPE KILLS DUMBLEDORE.
When I was in preschool, I apparently put glue on the entire class’s seats. Didn’t get to go to recess, stayed in and broke crayons in half and threw them at the flagpole.
When I was 11, I gave a kid (he was 9) a pretzel stick I had stuck in my cat’s litter box.
This rather large kid had a habit of bullying me out of my Oreo cookies at lunch everyday. When you’re in second grade, this begins to take a toll on you. Finally, I went to my dad about it and he concocted quite the plan, halfway inspired by something that happened in a children’s book he read to me at the time. He took one of the cookies, hollowed out the center of the cream , and put a ton of Tabasco sauce in there. When he resealed it, he left cream on the outer edges so it still looked normal. Needless to say, I was incredibly excited about what was going to happen the next day at lunch.
The next day, he actually wasn’t bullying me out of the cookies…he must’ve had a change of heart for once. But A.) I wasn’t going to eat that shit and B.) I still wanted to discourage him from ever stealing them again. So without provocation, I took the bag of Oreos and offered them up to him for free, on my own behalf. Delighted, he took a bite of the atomic one and immediately started coughing to the point where he was pseudo-choking. He ran to the bathroom, vomited (I believe), and I didn’t see him for the rest of the day.
He never stole my cookies again…I still smile about it to this day.
I use Craigslist to post very friendly and sensitive sounding advertisements to young women who are in a financial bind. When they get in touch with me I gently talk to them over a series of emails until I get to the point where I suggest sex for money. I ignore all of the ones who are enthusiastic, even the first-timers, and only go for the girls who are repulsed by the idea but are in dire financial straits. I tell them that it’s not really prostitution, that it’s just a boyfriend who helps you out, etc. etc.
Then, when I penetrate them, I tell them that I’ve just turned them into a whore for the rest of their lives. I love watching the emotional anguish. I do this in a way that seems innocent, like I offhand say “Oh man I’ve never actually turned a girl into a prostitute before” in a really excited tone of voice — this avoids them hating me, which is good because it avoids retribution, and it makes them turn their loathing in on themselves instead of having a perpetrator to blame.
I get off on the huge power trip of psychologically fucking with these innocent girls.
After they leave in emotional shambles, I friend the girls under a fake Facebook account (9 times out of 10 I can discover the girl’s real name).
My favorite score was a girl who used to post 5-10 times a day on Facebook and immediately after seeing me only posts once or twice a month. She started crying so I told her she could stop but she wouldn’t be paid — I did this so that she would allow me to continue fucking her while she cried which is one of my all-time best sexual experiences.
In effect, I do the S of S&M for real, not in a controlled consensual environment. I’ve done this to about 40-50 girls mostly aged 18-24. I also use psychological tactics to reduce the price as much as possible, and usually spend around $100-150 to do this to each girl. I also videotape the sessions with a hidden camera and the camera has never been caught.
I am an extremely successful person career-wise, have a lot of great friends, great relationships (I don’t do this when I’m dating), and most people consider me to be an excellent upstanding member of society. But I sometimes wonder if this psychopathic side of me will end up destroying my life someday.
I told my step brother i would give him all my nes games if he took a handful of hard packed dirt that was mixed with chainsaw oil, gas, dead deer stuff, dead fish stuff, from the back of my dads truck, and chew it slowly while i counted to 10. he did it… I laughed and gave him nothing.
In middle school, there was this girl that tortured the living shit out of me and got all of my “friends” to turn against me by going into the school after hours for some kind of school event, jimmying my locker open and throwing the contents around the hallway.
Well, I was so traumatized by those girls that I decided to go to High School in a different town and my senior year I started dating a guy that graduated a year earlier from a private school in the area. In a bizarre twist of fate, I learned that this girl now attended that same school and, since the classes were so small, they had large “cubbies” in the Senior lounge with their names marked on them, rather than lockers. My boyfriend and I were helping his Dad one night at the school (he’s the head of the English dept.) and I snuck into the senior lounge and got my revenge by breaking her reading glasses, stealing a single shoe left in there, and throwing around some of her shit. Right afterwards I felt bad and confessed what I did to my boyfriend but he thought I deserved a little revenge.
I put dog shit in a slightly ‘special’ kid’s sandwich. He then took a bite out of the sandwich and choked on it. (It was the dry & hard kind of dog shit. No he didn’t die or anything.)
I once told a girl that she was going to end up alone just like her mother, who was essentially her best friend and had gone through two divorces. I was pissed at the time and I really regret saying it, but it was completely true.
We shot our best friend in the chest.
We were kids, and a friends dad was a cop. Let’s call him TS. He had rifles and hand guns in the house, and he didn’t lock them up. We used to shoot them in the basement at a log pile and enjoy the crazy ricochets.
Anyhow, one day, one of my friends played a mean practical joke on me. We’d just returned from the hospital (visiting a sick classmate, broken leg) and the nurses had given us empty syringes to use as water pistols to fight with him. It was a blast. We got back to my friend TS’s place, where we would be sleeping over. We kept playing with the syringe water pistols and one of the guys, let’s call him JM, comes down to the basement with a syringe full of something white. He shot it on my face and hair, and yelled “that was my cum!!”. I wasn’t impressed, and ran to wash it off. When we came back, we decided that what he’d done deserved some form of punishment and he agreed to participate in a plan we’d been working on.
We wanted to shoot someone, while wearing a bulletproof vest. No one wanted to be shot of course, but he agreed that his dick-move would be forgiven if he’d be the “victim”.
We dressed him up in the old vest of TS’s dad, placed a skidoo helmet backwards on his head, tied his hands behind him (so he wouldn’t accidentally take it in the arm), and stood him at the end of the basement.
We set up a pile of logs to use to steady the rifle, took aim, and fired a .22 long into his chest.
He didn’t like it at all, and cried/whined a lot. We took the vest off, and other than some (later) bruising, he was fine.
Anyhow, looking back, it could have ended very poorly. I should never have done this.
In 2008, I went to S. Korea for a few months for work. Most of the time, I was not in Seoul, but I was scheduled to spend my last week there.
On the night before I left for Seoul, I stayed up late and IMed people back home, including my best friend since the first grade (let’s call him Brian). I was his best man when he got married in 2006, and he was supposed to be mine when the time came. Little foreshadowing there, I guess.
He kept saying weird stuff. Not weird stuff, exactly. He just wasn’t himself. He also kept encouraging me to go out and have some fun instead of sitting in my room and IMing. I kept telling him that I had a lot of stuff to do the next day before leaving, that the night life in the city where I was staying wasn’t anything to write home about, that I didn’t speak the language, etc, but he just wouldn’t drop it. Finally I got a little angry at him about it and told him he was being rude. He was profoundly and unusually apologetic and very intent on making sure that we were still pals. I assured him that we were and apologized for losing my temper. Then I went to bed.
About a day later, in Seoul, I went to an internet cafe (PC bang) with one of the 15 or so other people I was traveling with. In my inbox was an email my mother had sent me, telling me to call home, she had news about Brian. I thought, “huh, was he in an accident or something?” All the computers in those places have headsets and skype, so I logged into my account and called.
When my mother answered, she told me that he’d been accidentally shot and killed in the gun store where he worked. I don’t remember what I said exactly at that point. She asked me if I wanted to speak to my father, and I said no. After I hung up, I put my head on the desk and wept.
After I partially regained composure, I called the travel agency to see if there was any way for me to come home a few days early. There wasn’t. Everything was booked solid. I emailed all of our old friends and gave them the news. Then I and the guy I was with went back to the hotel room for a nap. I’m sure he noticed that I’d been crying, but he was the kind of guy who minded his own business, and he never asked what was wrong.
I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t know any of the people I was with all that well, and there was nothing they could do about it, anyway. I just buried it and went through the motions of what I needed to do for the remainder of the trip.
That night, when I checked my email again, I found an article that one of my friends had googled up. According to it, the local PD in Brian’s town had ruled his death a suicide. On his lunch break, he’d gone out to his car and shot himself.
I found out after I got home that his parents, brother, wife, and in-laws refused to believe it. There was no note, for one thing. But I knew it was true. That weird IM conversation we’d had convinced me of it more than anything. But I also just knew him. He never acted depressed or despondent, but there had been hints that he was in trouble for months. They just didn’t stand out until after the fact.
I of course missed the funeral. I was probably singing karaoke or something. I never told Brian’s family about our final conversation or that I think it was probably a suicide. In fact, I’ve scarcely spoken to them at all. My mother called me once and told me that Brian’s wife had relayed a message to her through his parents that she was “willing” to talk about it if I wanted to. I never called her. When I was visiting my parents’ for Christmas a year ago I ran into his dad at the grocery store. He told me they’d like to have me over to the house for dinner sometime. I was polite but noncommittal, and it never happened.
It wasn’t for some months that it occurred to me that if I ever got married, I’d have to find a new best man. When I thought of it, I cried.
I’m not sure where I’m going with this. None of it is particularly evil. It’s a little dickish and cowardly that I never tried to comfort his widow or family or even acknowledged to anyone that his death upset me. I don’t think his death is my fault. I don’t feel guilty about it in that way. I think I just saw a couple of other stories about suicide and decided to unburden myself a little.
One night long ago, my band was playing a gig in a local bar. Before the show I saw a beautiful girl standing behind a chest-height counter. Every time I passed by to get a drink or use the can, she was watching me with a big smile that really lit up her face. I decided that after the gig, I was going to chat her up and hopefully get her number.
Well, we played our set and then started packing up our gear. Somehow in the shuffle I lost sight of her and we ended up leaving. As we were getting in our vehicles, I heard a voice call out from the parking lot: “Hey, you know you’re cute?” she called out. My buddies and I turned around to see the girl that had been smiling at me earlier. She was standing with a few friends and I could now see that she was a plus sized girl. Without skipping a beat, I called out “Hey, you know you’re fat?” and we left.
You can’t make me feel any lower about it than I already felt as soon as those words left my lips. God, what an asshole. That was almost 20 years ago and it still haunts me.
Not sure this is evil as more of an accident of confusion, once many years ago i basically took a huge shit on my buddy’s face while he was passed out. we had been drinking for hours and didn’t make it home that night so we crashed in a dark alley on the way. he woke up thinking he had somehow landed on someone else’s shit. i secretly laughed all day. guess that was evil.
When living at home, me and my bro would squabble a lot, just little stuff.
However, for some reason I cannot remember, I decided to knock it up a notch BAM! by sliding chicken into the tubing of his blinds on the window next to his bed.
After a few days the smells started and after a few more the flies came and after a few days I hear this almighty scream, the likes no one can generate unless they wake up to maggots falling from their window onto their sleeping face – which, funnily enough, was what happened to him.
New year’s eve 2002, if I recall correctly, just after midnight had passed. People were announcing “First X of 2003” for everything they did. I don’t know why, but I decided to go for “First person to kick Joe in the balls in 2003!”. He was very close to hooking up with a cute girl that night, but instead he spent the rest of the night lying down in pain.
When I was a student, our neighbors were complete assholes (also students, but from a poly, not the uni) and had enjoyed pelting our house with eggs, dumping garbage in our back-yard, etc.
One night, after much drinking, a friend and I found a gas pipe on the way home that we were sure was destined for better things, so we took it home. As we arrive home, we went around the back of our house and discovered a number of garbage bags, and a bag of quick-drying cement. So we dumped the garbage bags into our neighbors yard against their back door, and covered it with the cement.
Then we pushed the gas pipe through our bathroom window, connected a hose to the bath tap, and dosed the cement with water through the gas pipe. We then attached the gas pipe to the top of one of our friends cars and went to sleep.
The next morning, the police were with the neighbors and they had no idea what had happened. Their back yard was solid cement and garbage and they couldn’t open the back door. Their landlord arrived and threw them out and the police never even asked us one question. Revenge was sweet, but sometimes, when I think of it, I do feel the slightest pang of guilt. We shouldn’t have put the gas pipe on our friends car, cos he got fined for it….
In 6th grade I was friends with a guy named Jason. Jason had begun obsessing over this girl in our class, so I thought I’d play a prank on him. Before Thanksgiving break started, I found out the girl’s email address and AIM screen name, and then I pretty much guessed her secret question answers on hotmail, thus I had access to her email and AIM screen name.
All throughout Thanksgiving break, I pretended to be the girl on AIM, talking to Jason every day. The funniest thing was, he would often call me immediately after talking to her on AIM for hours and excitedly tell me all the things that they talked about.
As it got closer to time to go back to school, I started pressing towards forming a relationship between the girl and Jason (and he relayed this to me via phone). Eventually, ‘the girl’ told him “If you really like me, I want you to just come up to me on Monday and smack my ass in front of everyone. I think it will be hot, and I’ll know you’re really into me!” Needless to say, Jason was nervous but excited. He kept asking me if he should really do it or not, and I would always tell him yes or else he risks losing the girl of his dreams.
So, Monday rolls around and I’ve told almost all the guys in class (I didn’t tell the girls because I figured they’d tell the girl whose ass he was supposed to smack.) We’re all watching him like a hawk, waiting for him to do it. The bell is due to ring in less than two minutes and the girl is at her locker. Jason slowly goes up behind her, and I see him cock his hand back.
Then I chickened out. I realized that were the girl to find out that I wanted a guy to smack her ass, I might get in some stupid sexual harassment trouble. I grabbed his hand and stopped him and said “Jason.. it was all fake.”
“Huh?” “Yeah, it was all fake. I hacked her AIM screen name and posed as her for 2 weeks.”
And then I saw in his eyes a look of sheer horror. His world was crashing down, and it couldn’t possibly be true. I felt horrible, but I also felt like laughing. The girl eventually found out and absolutely hated me for it, and Jason hated me as well, although we still talked and ate lunch together.
Fast Forward: Jason eventually gets over her after a long period of being obsessed (he’d even whistle out loud every time she walked into the classroom). The girl stopped hating me and thought that the whole ordeal was hilarious. In high school, Jason pretty much forgives me and chuckles over the ordeal, but changes his mind after another girl shoots him down and tells him he looks like a ‘concentration camp jew’.
I still feel evil, but it was executed so perfectly that I can’t help but be amazed and chuckle occasionally.
I created the font known as Comic Sans.
There was once this kid who used to give me a hard time on the bus when I was in High School. even as seniors he never let up on me for some reason. He was in my english class and was barely passing with D’s. One day he squirted an entire bottle of ketchup in my locker and all over my new Nike jacket my mom had gotten me. We didn’t have money for brand name things so this jacket was big deal to me. He completely ruined it. Well towards the end of our senior year, I volunteered to help out as a sound tech for the school play.
Our English teacher was also the drama teacher and she would let the sound people use her classroom to keep our stuff in. I found myself alone in her class one night during practice and noticed her grade book opened with our english class grades in front of me. She actually wrote everything in her grade book in pencil. So I quickly grabbed a pencil and changed some of his grades. A month later, he failed that class (barely) and didn’t graduate with our class. He had to go back the next year and graduate a year later. It was quite the shock of our little town b/c he was a very popular boy from a very popular family. I still don’t feel bad about it but I realize it was evil.
My old roommate used to get mad and hit me when things didn’t go his way or got drunk, so I did the unforgivable… He was a black guy and had bottles of Lubriderm lotion laying around for his ashy skin. He used to rub it all over his body and face. I kept thinking of ways to get revenge and it randomly came to me. I masturbated into a cup and poured it into the bottle of lotion… A day later he comes out of his room with his shirt off, acting like a douche bag and begins rubbing the lotion on his chest and face… I couldn’t contain myself. My other roommate told me, that he in fact, did the same thing after I told him of my fiasco.
There was a kid who lived in the house whos back yard butted up against my grandparents. This kid was the type who would play with you no matter wtf evil shit you did to him. I guess it was my own ego looking for an outlet since I was pretty picked on growing up. This kid wanted to play with me and my cousin. We let him come over to my grandparents back yard. We played cowboys and indians. Me and my cousin tied the kid to a pole near the swing set, pantsed him, and went inside to watch TV. I don’t remember how long it was but his father came home only to see his son tied to a pole with his pants at his ankles. I got my ass whipped for it by my grandfather. I still feel bad about it to this day.
In grade 7 I knew a guys gym locker combination, I took a sample maxi pad that came in the mail and put it in there. While he was getting changed for gym class it fell on the floor. Other students proceeded to kick it out of the locker room and around the gymnasium floor, all the while making fun of him for being a girl. He didn’t come back the next day and never returned. I’m not sure if it was related or not but I feel a bit guilty.
- Blamed kid down the street for breaking a window I broke at my house. Kid got a beating for it. So did I when it was discovered that I lied. (~6yo)
- Flattened every tire on some guys raised pick-up (with giant tires) by unscrewing the pin in the valve. Woke up the next morning to see his car on blocks — He had taken the tires to the shop. (~11yo)
- Shot kids (when I was 11yo) with blow darts made from straws and cactus thorns. We also told them the tips had been dipped in black widow poison.
- Accidentally broke someones arm after I intentionally pushed him into a wall while we were chasing a ball in gym class. (13yo).
- Threw full 7-11 cup of Dr. Pepper over the top of stall onto some unsuspecting guy taking a shit. (~16yo)
- Filled a bucket of every rotten old food and drink in my college fridge (plus several bottles of cologne and about 30 slugs), let it sit in the sun for about 2 weeks until it became a loaf, rehydrated it with rotten milk and beer, filled plastic bags full of the material, then drove around looking for people to hit with the dank. At least 4 people had direct hits scored on them. This stuff was awful smelling. Really awful. I still feel tremendous guilt over this one. (~19yo) Note: With the exception of the first one, the rest were the result of bad influences. That doesn’t excuse it, I know.
In third grade, I cheated on my history exam. In fourth grade, I stole my uncle Max’s toupee and I glued it on my face when I was Moses in my Hebrew School play. In fifth grade, I knocked my sister Edie down the stairs and I blamed it on the dog…When my mom sent me to the summer camp for fat kids and then they served lunch I got nuts and I pigged out and they kicked me out…But the worst thing I ever done — I mixed a pot of fake puke at home and then I went to this movie theater, hid the puke in my jacket, climbed up to the balcony and then, t-t-then, I made a noise like this: hua-hua-hua-huaaaaaaa — and then I dumped it over the side, all over the people in the audience. And then, this was horrible, all the people started getting sick and throwing up all over each other. I never felt so bad in my entire life.
Live in a small vacation town that’s quite abandoned in the off season. One particular morning, while waiting for the bus, I decided that I would skip a fine opportunity to attend school. Since my Dad started work in over an hour, I couldn’t go home after skipping, so instead I went up the block and strolled about town. Once I had traveled a couple blocks of eerily silent shore town, I found the nicest outdoor shower I came across, one with a bench, and hung out inside it smoking a few joints (back then I stocked my wallet like a portable smoking kit).
Now, before I go to the bus stop, I’ll usually make sure to drop a load, since my bus ride was around 45 minutes long. This particular morning I neglected to do so, and paid the price accordingly. Waiting for my father to leave for work had me pushing well beyond my shit-withholding threshold, and I was cold and high. The solution came easily enough in the form of an unlocked door behind what I assume to be a family’s winter home and summer-rental. I’m sure it was seasonal as the house itself was abandoned, and the unlocked door led me into a small, 4×6 ft laundry room, something of a rarity. Doing the logical thing I searched my backpack for tissues, found some, and dropped my pants thusly, before jumping onto the washing machine and dispensing into it a really nice shit. When I say nice shit, it comes from the heart. You know those rare, amazing shits where it slides right out, intact and large? And then the feeling of success after having wiped your ass and finding that the toilet paper, or in this case tissue, has almost nothing on it? So I shit in the random house’s washing machine, and nearly thirty seconds later was gagging at the smell that accumulated in such a small space, something I never anticipated. Being that this was a seasonal residence, I consider the occupants lucky, as, for most people the shit would have lingered, slowly building it’s lethality, for months.
I was pleasantly surprised a week after my deed. While walking to the beach to smoke a blunt, I saw a bald middle aged man with a scowl hosing out the room I was so recently defecating in. Interesting to note was the large amount of children’s toys in their yard. I imagine the family happily pulling up in the driveway, ready to enjoy a weekend away from it all, and then the expression on the face of the little girl who discovered my joyful shit. I like to think she looks like Dora the Explorer in real life.
I feel the most evil part of this is that it would’ve actually been a shorter trip were I to shit on the beach and bury it.
Introduced Yeast Infections to both of my female house mates as punishment for not paying rent on time…
One of my friends in High School had cancer, it was the really bad kind and he had been fighting it pretty much his entire life most of the time the doctors kept telling his mom that he would not make it.
I treated him like shit, everyone else was incredibly nice to him because of the cancer but i always acted like he was an annoying little bother. The funny thing is, I think he kind of appreciated it, I was the only person in his life outside of his family who did not pity him.
He was so pathetic, even when the doctors told him he had finally beat the cancer he had no clue what to do with his life, he spent so long assuming he would die before turning 18 that he had absolutely no ambition other than playing games on the computer he got from the make a wish foundation.
He died a few months after turning 18, I was studying abroad but my parents told me he tried calling me a week before he died even though he knew i was not there.
I feel like the lowest form of scum on earth for the way i treated him, still have not been able to bring myself to visit his grave to apologize, maybe some day.
I am truly sorry Dave, i should of been a better friend to you.
I bullied someone who later killed themselves. I’ve never known the reason why she killed herself, but there is always that thought in the back of my head that makes me think I was responsible.
I beat the shit out of my 7-year-old-son and told him I wished he’d never been born. I beat him pretty regularly until he got 10 or so, and I got a cold, hard look at myself.
It was the most despicable thing I ever did in my life, and I have regretted it every day. He turned out pretty psychopathic, by the way, but probably not as psychopathic as I was at the time. I’m still pretty nuts. If I was completely sane I’d probably kill myself.
My friend and I went swimming, there was a pretty good crowd at the pond in our neighborhood, but not the most crowded I have ever seen it. Anyway I was jumping off this little rock outcropping on the far side of the pond when I saw my buddy cramp up and go under.
I felt totally helpless when I heard his gargled scream for help as he went under and he didn’t come back up. My friend died right in front of me. I saw it with my own two eyes. I jumped in and tried to get there as quickly as possible. I just couldn’t make it and I felt really bad for years about the whole thing. I think I really channeled my anger to the other people there that day, especially one jock dickhead kid who was a little closer than me. He might have been able to make a difference, but I think I just blamed him as a way of coping.
Years later I still blamed this guy for my friends death, and I invited him to a concert (front row seats) had the stagehands spotlight him and sang In the air tonight. You should have seen his face!
This might not be that evil, but I feel bad about it now. IP Relay is, or was, an operator service that helps blind, deaf, and/or mute people communicate. For example, let’s say a mute person wants to order a pizza. They open the IP Relay chat window, type the number they wish to connect to, and the operator will dial the number, say whatever the person types, and type back what the pizza place says.
Well, during my freshman year of college we would get drunk in the dorms and type the most God-awful things in the chat window, and have the operator call another one of us who was in the room. The operator would have to say whatever we typed, and you would not believe the things they would say without laughing or getting angry and disconnecting us. Hilarious at the time, but I regret it now.
I was working as a security guard at a grocery store when I noticed someone edging towards the exit with a basket of groceries. I made myself scarce but kept an eye on the guy and sure enough he bolted out the exit. I ran him down and tackled him in the parking lot. the police were on their way when I noticed that the guy was trying to steal baby formula. I don’t know who the real asshole is in this situation but I’ve always felt wretched about it. Thankfully I don’t work security anymore.
I’m an asshole to everyone (even my friends). Overall I’m a pretty miserable person and I try to drag people down to my level by being a jerk at all times.
I do this on purpose to hide my insecurities and overall unhappiness. I’ve made people feel bad about themselves and for that I am greatly sorry. Regardless of the fact that I know this, I do not change.
I have three very evil things. This is my throwaway account. Here’s my list:
- In fourth grade, we were supposed to do a page from this work book every day, and on the last week of school, we were supposed to hand in the whole book to the teacher. I didn’t do any of it, but another kid apparently forgot to put his name on his, so the teacher assumed it was mine and not his. I took the grade and never said anything.
- I got in a car accident in college when some old lady rear ended me and totaled my car. At the scene of the accident, the old lady started swearing at me, telling me that the whole accident was my fault. It clearly was not my fault as I was at a stop sign, waiting to turn left when she plowed into me full speed from behind. The insurance company sided with me and agreed that the woman was 100% at fault. I had a minor neck injury from the accident, but it wasn’t a huge deal, and I had insurance, so my treatment was covered, but since she was so evil and mean to me at the scene of the accident, I decided to sue her. I got $14,000, but I feel bad about it to this day.
- I had a boyfriend in high school who was that classic way too nice guy. I cheated on on him twice (once right in front of him), but he took me back anyways. A few years into our relationship, I convinced him to move two hours away with me because I got into a college in another state and I didn’t want to go alone. He applied to a nearby college and got in. We got a lease to a fairly expensive apartment which we planned to move into together. A few weeks before we were set to move, I met another guy, we hooked up a few times, and then I got an acceptance letter from another (much better) college near where I was living at the time. I made the choice not to go with my boyfriend, leaving him with an expensive lease that he couldn’t afford on his own. I then broke up with him, and started dating the other guy that I hooked up with. I heard from friends that my ex ended up having a hard time making friends in the new state, couldn’t afford his rent, went way into debt, and was finally forced to move back in with his parents.
I feel really bad for everything that I’ve done, and I would really like to make it up somehow, but I really have no idea how to do that. I just try to be a good person now, but I really regret the things I did in the past.
I beat the ever loving shit out of my brother one time. It was the last fight we ever got in. He was bleeding out of his ears and mouth and nose.
I felt so bad I ended up crying about it for almost three days. The fucker never pulled a knife on me again though.
I had a couple hours between classes in college one semester, so I would usually go down to the computer lab and dick around on the internet until I had to go. The browsers there are set up to remove all your history when you close it, but at the comp I sat down at the person before me seemed to have frozen up firefox or something because when I clicked it it asked me if I wanted to reload everything. Out of habit I clicked yes, and this guy’s facebook pops up, still logged in and everything.
At first, I just posted a message on his facebook status that told him he should be more careful and log off his stuff when on public computers and clicked off to some other site.
A little while later, I went to check my email, and this same guy from facebook was logged in to his.
I was able to not snoop the first time I was left with an open account, but not a second time. I started reading through some select emails with interesting subjects, and find some between him and a ton of guys from craigslist, sharing dick pics and setting up times to meet NSA.
Basically, from reading his emails, and clicking back to his facebook, I get the idea that this guy has a gf, listed as straight, and is cheating on her with a bunch of random dudes.
This pisses me the fuck off, so I find the worst, most graphic emails and forward them to his entire contact list, which included the folders friends, family, professors and work. I even took the time to resend them all individually when some of them failed due to some people’s addresses being invalid.
The entire time I did this my heart was pounding.
Looking back, there was a chance the girlfriend may have known about the craigslist stuff, and was ok with it, but I dunno… just from the way they were written, and the front page of his fb, it just didn’t seem that way.
A while after that I was so scared karma would come around and kick my ass, but nothing ever happened…I was expecting this huge investigation from the school or something, but… nothing. I guess I’ve written it off as a moment where I myself was acting as this dude’s karma, but I still feel like shit about it. I kind of wonder still how much I must have fucked up this dude’s life.
Where do I begin?
Once, I decided, against my better judgement, to date one of my closest friends. It actually worked out rather well, and we ended up going out for about four years. Eventually, things began to fracture, and serious irreconcilable problems began to arise that forced us apart. She was absolutely devastated; it completely tore her apart.
Within a month, I had sex with her best friend.
I left Sarah Kerrigan to die on Tarsonis to lure the Protoss into attacking the Zerg.
Jim, I’m sorry.
There was a girl in college, we will call her jessica. She flirted with me a lot but I had a GF, and I was not interested in her at all, she always talked about the men she hardly knew coming over to fuck in her in house. Either way, one day I broke up with my girl and showed up to class quite happy, Jessica asked why I was so happy and I told her. She asked if I wanted to go on a date. I told her something about just broke up blah blah not looking to get back into dating blah blah. She then stepped closer and said, “Well maybe we can just get together to fuck?” I then gave her a “too soon” kind of answer.
Fast forward a few weeks, we were in this DB class or some shit, either way, I never paid attention and had no idea what the fuck was going on. For the final we had to put some db together and take screenshots of it and then turn it in. I gave it a try but couldn’t get it to work. My friends in the class were just as lost as I was. Jessica knew what she was doing. and had worked out a deal with most of the guys in class — they give her 30 bucks she hands the stuff over to them.
I looked at one friend and said, “I can take care of this.”
So I slid my chair over to her and placed my hand on her leg between her knee and hip, (did i mention she was a little big and ugly?) and said, “Hey, how you doin?” she replied, “Fine, just finishing this up.”
I then start in, “Yea this stuff sucks. So, that offer to come out and um.. you know,” as I start rubbing her leg, “come out for some uh.. fun *wink* — does that still stand?”
She says, “Yea, why?”
“Well,” I said, “I would love to come out tonight, but I’m going to be stuck here all day trying to do this shit, and by the time I’m done, I won’t have the energy for anything else,” and while I’m saying these things, my hand is working slowly and softly closer to her inner thigh. She then chimes in with, “Well, you could have a copy of mine, and then you could make it out faster.”
“That would be great,” I say. “You almost done?” Jessica then says, “Yea, just finished wheres your thumb drive?” I handed over my thumb drive, she copied her final onto it and handed it over. I then stood up and proclaimed to my friends that we’re going to pay her for it. “Hey guys, I’ve got it!” I said. She looked at me confused and said, “Wait, you’re still coming over tonight night, right?”
I turned to her and said, “Of course I am.” I then made the changes to make it look like my work and passed my thumb drive around to all my friends so they could do the same. We turned in “our work” and started heading for the door.
As I started to leave, she asked again. “You’re still coming out tonight right?” I told her, “Of course, I’m just going to grab lunch with the guys, I will call you about 6 so you can tell me how to get to your place.” I walked out the door, went to lunch with the guys. After lunch, me and a friend went back to his place and place and played video games all day and I then went home. Jessica never hit on me again, and didn’t talk to me for months after that.