Number 1.

A rather cynical man who worked with me ran out of fags, so he drove up to the local Morrisons. There was snow on the ground, but his addiction compelled him to go.

When he got to Morrisons, some kids in the caar park started throwing snowballs at his car. Being a rather awkward Yorkshireman, he drove back to confront them. He saw that they had built a snowman, so he decided to destroy it. Shame it was built on top of a concrete bollard.

Number 2.

The latest Marketing Glamour Boys decided that the best way to turn the business round would be to make all senior managers wear badges that had a CARE logo. CARE meant Customers Are Really Everything. One of my stroppier fellow managers when he was presented with his badge proceeded to tell his boss what he thought about the marketimg bullsh1t and stamped on his badge.

He broke his ankle and was wheeled out of the office on his chair, still ranting about CARE!

Number 3.

We converted all print management to use a software package. The guys who looked after it had a spreadsheet which they printed off and updated manually on paper, it detailed who got which reports and when.

So when we automated this we got the guy up from London who was the master of the distribution list.

After a few hours we realised it was going to take a while to key this into the database, so I asked Pete to photocopy the master list so we could carry on when he'd gone back to London.

"OK" he says, "Where's the copier?"

Through the double doors, on the right, he was told.

He came back about half an hour later, ashen faced.

Apparently, he had gone through the double doors. and got confused.

He asked a local "Where do you put the paper in?"

The local pointed to the obvious, after all this was an ignorant southerner.

So Pete stick ths paper in.

"Goodness gracious, that sounds a bit rough" says Pete. "Where does the paper come out?".

So the local opens the door of the shredder.

Trues story, and the spreadsheet was miles out of date with the shredded paper copy.

All the above stories are true, anyone who can beat them can post here any time.

Many years ago, when I lived in Sheffield, I spent a day on the moors, walking about 15- 20 miles in snow. It was hard going. As I was heading towards the bus stop to get the bus back to Sheffield, I got cut short and had to do an outdoor "number two." I crouched down near a patch of dock leaves, did the business and used a couple of dock leaves to wipe my booty. Unfortunately, I then realised that the bottom of my kagoul was between the leaves and my booty. So, I had effectively wiped myself on the inside of the kagoul. Thinking I couldn't possibly get on the bus in that state I pulled the kagoul over my head but as I had bulky warm clothing on I then realised I could have smeared my back and the back of my hair. So, I ended up walking the 10 miles home. Got back thoroughly knackered!

Very similar one to Dally, when we were kids one of our gang (no, it wasn't me), went into some bushes to "have a pony" and told us to go collect some dock leaves for him to wipe up with (its why god invented dock leaves), he stood up after he'd finished to wipe his backside and, as you do, had a look backwards to see what sort of a pile he'd left - there was nothing there.

He'd pulled his pants down, crouched down, and shit inside of them.

We were eight years old when that happened and I still haven't forgotten how much it hurt to laugh at that.

Which reminds me of when I was a little kid. Was climbing a tree and hanging from the underside of a branch by the hands and ankles. needed to fart. Let rip but unfortunately it wasmore than a fart - more of a major follow through! Trying to run home in short trousers without letting the crap run and drop out of your trouser legs is an art!

Ah! Zis is zee Englische toilet humour, nein?

But if we're talking about work related incidents, when I left school I worked for an electrical contractors and building sites in the 1970s were just full of daft stories.

Like the time I was doing our final fix survey of a health centre in Armley, it was my job to mark up the circuit diagrams on the architects plans - the health centre was one of the first of its type where several doctors shared the premises, each had an office, a secretary's office and a toilet, the building was a hollowed out square, garden in the middle, doctors offices around all four sides - secretary, doctors office, toilet and then repeat.

With me ?

Each doctors office had a "serving hatch" between them and the secretary's office, except for one.

When I arrived in the room a plumber was standing there with a toilet in his arms ready to fit it to the waste pipe sticking out of the wall, and there was a joiner there who had just cut a square hole in the timber framed wall to install the serving hatch, they were both looking at their own set of plans and arguing about whether or not this was a secretary's office or a toilet, and then all three of us cracked out laughing at the idea that one of the doctors in this practice had a serving hatch in his office that he could open to watch his patients having a crap next door.

as far as I know the joiner fitted the hatch and the plumber fitted the toilet and its probably still the smelliest doctors office in that practice even to this day.

Continuing the toilet humour theme, there was a lad at our uni, that fancied his female housemate for ages, eventually one night they got together after a night out when they were both leathered, he shagged her in her bed, then when he thought she was asleep he let out a silent fart, and followed through with stinky watery diarrhoea, all over her bedsheets.

The best thing about this was beforehands when he'd been talking about trying to get with this girl he lived with we'd all been telling him "bad idea mate, don't s--t where you sleep", how literally he failed to take our advice

A Saturday night out in Bradford!

I was rushed with blue flashing lights from York hospital to Hull Royal Infirmary after I had become paralysed needing an emergency laminectomy to release the compression on the spinal cord, imagine the hilarity three weeks later when we were told I would never walk again because they had operated at the wrong level missing the area of compression by 6 (six) centimetres. I nearly pisshed myself laughing but I couldn't.

Many years ago I was the last one left in the office on a Friday evening and just about to leave when my boss's phone rings. I answered it and the caller was the CEO (this was a multi-billion £ company). He demanded some data to be in his inbox by 8pm (it was about 6.30pm when he rang). I said "no chance there's nobody else here and I'm off in a minute". Back came the reply "Do you know who I am ?". "Yes" I said "but do you know who I am ?" "No" he said. "Well f**k off then........."

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Working on Sellafield site Geordie, a scaffolder, had a fall and suffered some spinal injuries. As they were putting him in the ambulance his mate came running over shouting at the paramedics to stop as he needed to ask him something urgently. "Geordie" he said "are you alright ?" "No mate" came the reply "I'm in agony". "Well" says his mate "seeing as you're not going to be here.........can I have your sandwiches ?"