I was a pretty awful little shit to my little brother throughout my childhood. No major devastation, just constantly bitching at and tormenting him. I was pretty much jealous of him, I think.
He forgave me about last year.
He’s not disabled, fetus! :eek: I was young, I made a Very Bad Decision but I didn’t disable anybody!!!
Am I an awful person too, for thinking this was sort of funny? (As well as heinous)
Looking back, I think I must’ve been the person who was the target of some of the mean pranks like the ones detailed here. No one ever turned on me in a way I noticed, but people messed with my locker and my stuff, etc. Guess that is the fate of loners. I’m studying to be a teacher now, and I’ll remember some of the things here as examples of how incredibly cruel middle-school kids can be to each other.
As for me, I think my worst thing is too awful to put on here. It involves the death of baby bunnies. 
[QUOTE=OneCentStamp]
This is mean only in the way of a richly deserved comeuppance. I post if because it still makes me smile and cringe. It’s a story that those of you who run live sound might find amusing, or even just those of you musicians who are used to playing venues with sound systems.
My old band’s drummer, John, was also a sound guy . . .
[QUOTE]
What’s really hilarious about this is he actually had a patch titled “SUCK BUTTON.” There was a man well aquainted with the shades of revenge.
This is what makes it sound like you disabled someone. I am picturing a fiery car wreck that you caused on purpose for some petty revenge. You might as well tell us the story, since we apparently all think it is worse than it really is anyway. 
OneCentStamp, that story is priceless! I wish I’d been there to witness it.
Kinda tempting… but maybe having the reputation for causing fiery car wrecks out of spite serves me in better stead…
Nibbles, you’re enjoying torturing us too much!
When I was four, I used to hide my sister’s shoes so that she would get in trouble for being late. I would take them from our bedroom closet and transfer them to the downstairs closet. Every morning. But do you think she started figuring this out? No! Every morning it would be the same. She’d be looking for her shoes while I’d be sitting there, laughing and laughing.
When I was in the seventh grade, I got picked on all the time. I was just used to it. Well, I was taking typing one semester and the teacher was a real strict woman. She had a rule that if you didn’t turn off your wordprocessor when it was time to leave class, you’d get an F. One day I must have forgotten, and she found out. She tore me a new one. A friend convinced me that the guy who sat across from me must have turned on my machine after I had turned it off. I knew this wasn’t the case, but I needed an excuse. So in tears, I told my next period teacher what had happened, and he informed my typing teacher. I got off the hook and the guy–who was a juvenile deliquent and thus an easy scapegoat–got in trouble. I didn’t care all that much since he had picked on me before. But in high school, we once bumped into each other and he asked me if I was still smart. I have a feeling the guy is in prison right now. I hope he’s alright.
In the 12th grade, I had a stalker. Actually, he was just a guy who had a deep crush on me that lasted for four years. He would follow me from class to class and write me letters talking about how much he loved me. On Valentine’s Day, he would give me candy (once it was actually rotten, which my friends thought was freakin’ hilarious). Sometimes he would call me up on the phone. I had no interest in this fellow, but I didn’t really give him a chance either. I guess I was a bit of a snob: I was in all the honors classes and he wasn’t. We had never had a single class together, so I guess I felt like that meant we didn’t have anything in common. Plus, he wasn’t in the “cool kid” set. Neither was I, but I was closer to it than he was.
He wasn’t an ugly guy, just kinda fat and slow-looking. One day, his stalking got to be embarrassing (I was becoming a laughing stock). I went up to him during lunch and told him that he looked like a gorilla (I actually called him "Willie B., the local gorilla celebrity) and that I wanted him to leave me alone. All his friends were standing there with their mouths hanging open. Even as the words spilled from my mouth, I regretted them. I felt so mean, so awful, but I felt like I had to be that way to get the guy away from me. But it didn’t work. The next day, another love letter was delivered to me in homeroom. I have to say, I was almost relieved that I hadn’t hurt his feelings all that bad. But I’m still sorry I did that.
The meanest thing I did was in the 8th grade. There was this girl I was bestfriends with, actually there was 3 of us that hung out a lot. Anyway, she used to lie about things all the time to make herself seem more interesting. I finally got fed up with it when her lies caused my cousin and her boyfriend to break up.
She had yellowish teeth so I used to sing that song… “I can see clearly now the rain is gone…” meaning her teeth were yellow like the sun (8th grade thinking) to her and got everyone else in our class to sing it too. She didn’t know it was about her so she used to sing along too.
One day we were on the phone and she was into her whole lie trip when I told her the song was about her, called her Mrs. Butterworth (butter…yellow…you get it) and hung up. She’s changed a lot since then and we still talk. She’s my best friend even now and the only person who makes an attempt to keep in touch with me. It’s an incident that we don’t talk about, but there have been times that song would come on the radio and she’d look at me…
Many years ago, I found myself involved in a four-some with two women and another guy. At one point I thought the other guy was having too much fun, so while he was lost in rapture with his eyes closed I stuck my tongue down his throat and started playing with his cock. When he opened his eyes and realized it was me he freaked out and deflated. I hastily apologized, but then I had the two ladies all to myself while he took some time to recover.
Who’s a laughin’ now-a Monkey-boy-a?
…looking at your user name…
…thinking of permanent physical damage…
Ouch!
er, that was MY soul you thought you were buying, CG. And if you’ll check the package, you’ll find the name “Rob Schneider” stencilled on it.
When I was a freshman in college, some friends and I convinced an annoying drunk frat rat that it would be the coolest thing in the world for him to piss on the sparkplug of a running lawnmower.
Well, it was probably the time my brother got a kitten that I thought was majorly annoying, plus my brother and I had issuesbetween us…anyway, I let the kitten follow me as I walked to a babysitting job, and then I closed the door, knowing it probably wouldn’t find it’s way home. It didn’t. My brother was very sad. I never confessed.
My god, I actually feel sick to my stomach after writing that.
I honestly don’t know why I’m compelled to share this… Although I suppose it’s middle-of-the-road compared to the other ones in the thread.
Freshman year in college, I got a roommate (randomly assigned) that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. It wasn’t so bad at the beginning, but by the end of the year he ended up getting seriously on my nerves. My friends wouldn’t stop by my room in fear of running into him. They couldn’t call me since he spent all his time on IRC (we had internet access, but it was dialup at the time, and the dorm rooms only had a single line). And I’m not a neat freak by any stretch of the imagination, but even I found his lack of hygene appauling.
It was near the end of the spring semester, and the campus bookstore had started their “buy back”, where they’d pay you for old textbooks that they’d sell as used copies next semester.
I gathered up every single one of his textbooks I could find (some were crammed way back under his bed, it’s unlikely the spine had even been cracked), and sold them. Made a pretty penny, which I used to finance a night out with friends.
And this was the weekend before finals. In my defense, he asked about a single book once during that whole week, I pled ignorance, and he bought it, probably assuming that they were lost under a pile of laundry or something. When the semester was over, I packed up and went back home for the summer, and I never saw him again. I heard he dropped out in the middle of the next year.
You know, maybe it’s because some people are so innocent, trusting, and spiritually wholesome that the idea of someone–especially a loved one–doing such a vile thing is unfathomable to them. People who live on the sinister end of the morality spectrum, such as yourself apparently, wouldn’t understand such a thing, so of course, you scoff at the memory of the little girl running around frantically for her saddle shoes, pony tails flapping behind her, rooting around under the bed, behind doors, in closets, afraid she’s going to miss the bus and get in trouble, not knowing why her twin is laughing, and feeling like she is going out of her mind because she just. can. not. find. those. shoes.
But I do understand that little girl. That poor little girl.
Out of all the stories in this thread, this one about the shoes is the most troubling. Maybe it’s because even to this day when I’ve misplaced find my shoes (or any other object, for that matter) back in a tiny recess of my mind I wonder to myself whether my sister is playing mean tricks again. Even though said sister lives hundreds of miles away and is way too old to be up to such shenanigans. It’s a horrible thing.
you with the face, so I guess that means you still don’t know where your shoes are.
BWAHAHAHA!!! WHEN WILL YOU EVER LEARN!!!
/evil twin