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Last updated on August 7th, 2017 at 12:00 pm
These are some of the people I work with. They are rarely – in some cases never – addressed or mentioned other than by nickname. Tell your own workplace nickname stories in comments.
- In the medical platoon we had Monkey, Big Sexy, Trapper and Mac. At my civilian job there is Miss Scarlett (my boss Mary Charlotte-from Mississipi and a true belle) and Batman (which, in fairness, is the man’s real last name but is obviously inescapable as a nickname).Posted by 68W40 on 2007 01 29 at 11:51 AM • permalink
- One of the directors of our agency (no longer with us) was, as they all are, a political appointee, and, as some of that lot tend to be, a ruthless power-monger. She was generally known as the Wicked Witch, which is not particularly imaginative; however, some of the female career employees (i.e., civil service, not politically-appointed) exhibited a remarkable sense of flair by wearing little ruby slipper brooches, particularly when they were compelled to meet with her. I don’t believe she ever knew the significance of the jewelry, at least, not until she left the agency’s employ.
- given that i work at home and copy the various layouts and documents to the company server via the internet, my nickname here in the home workplace, which i share with the cat while my wife is at work, is apparently “miaowwwww.” i suspect that my nickname at the office is “that little fucker who gets to work at home.”
- Murph – obvious
Munga – Derived from Fish Monger on account of an uncanny ability (also known as arsy) to land large Flathead when fishing
Flattie – See above
Stiwi – My mother spent about the first six weeks of her life in New Zealnd, Stiwi is a sort of Cockney rhyme for Stinkin’ Kiwi.
Dolmio – Too disgusting to divulge in a public forum
- In college, some of the nicknames flying around were: Fuzzy, Baby Elephant, Spook (the guy was spooky!), and GI.
When I was a lieutenant, I knew a soldier whose moniker was “Hambone”, assigned to him (according to rumor) for reasons best left undiscussed in mixed company.
One officer was known as “The Six Million Dollar Man”, only he was a lieutenant, not a colonel.
And then there was “Spiderman”, a soldier who attempted to climb a three stories barracks building in order to sneak past the CQ. Not only was he was out when restricted to quarters, he was dead drunk. Alas, his attempt was unsuccessful, and he was eventually medevaced to Walter Reed.
And the battalion XO was known as “Flash” (behind his back) after he managed to scorch up his tent one winter, trying to light his stove; he survived without injuries, but did without facial hair for a while.
In civilian work…..not so many nicknames. I could point out that I work for a professional organization, but since assigning funny handles to people is a sign of good morale and team work, I’ll just leave it at that.
Posted by The_Real_JeffS on 2007 01 29 at 12:35 PM • permalink
- Actually, using nicknames at work can be disrespectful, demeaning and hurtful. Thank goodness a new superhero has arisen to tackle the problem of insensitivity. . .
“Look! There, on the street!”
“Is it a professional wrestler?”
“Is it a freak from a sideshow?”
No, it’s Platypus Man! Choosing as his symbol, the platypus – part duck, part muskrat and part beaver – Platypus Man fights for diversity, tolerance and multiculturalism!
In today’s episode, we find Platypus Man, in the guise of his alter ego, Victor Vacuous – wealthy philanthropist and nature enthusiast – standing by the sunglasses rack in the local drugstore, trying on shades. Ed Barnes, 38-year old caucasian pharmacist, is behind the counter preparing prescriptions. An Anglo-Asian girl walks up to the counter.
Ed Barnes: “Wha . . . what are you doing in here?”
Girl: “I need to buy some aspirin.”
Ed Barnes: “You shouldn’t be here!”
Victor witnesses this exchange, and immediately, his diversity-senses tingle. This fellow is obviously a bigot! Victor takes cover in the feminine hygiene products aisle, rips off his outer garments, and becomes – Platypus Man!
PM: “Hold it, mister! What do you mean by challenging this young woman’s right to be here?”
EB: “Who the hell are you? And what’s with the purple tights and yellow cape? And why do you have a picture of a duck on your chest? What is that thing, anyway, a moscovy or a mallard?”
“I am . . . Platypus Man! Upholder of equality and diversity! And you have just illegally challenged this person’s right to be here – based merely on her ethnicity!”
EB: “Look, bub, I don’t know if you’ve escaped or you’re just on work release from the nut house, but this girl happens to be my daughter. Betty, why aren’t you in school?”
Betty: “Sorry, dad. I forgot to mention that this is a teacher work day, so there’s no school. Mom’s got one of her bad headaches, and I came in to get her some aspirin.”
EB: “Ok, honey. Here you go. And you, there, in the fruity long-johns. I see the price tag dangling from those sunglasses you’re wearing, so don’t try walking out of the store with them until you pay!”
PM: “My work here is done. Another victory for diversity, tolerance and multiculturism! Ha-waaaayy!”
Returning to the feminine hygiene products aisle to retrieve his civilian clothes, he finds a puzzled security guard holding them in his hands.
SG: “Ok, buddy, you better come with me. We’ve got laws in this state about exposing yourself.”
Thinking fast, Platypus Man grabs his clothes from the startled security guard and sprints through the front door. Ed Barnes sidles up to the guard.
SG: “Who was that masked man?”
EB: “That wasn’t a mask. The guy just ran off with a pair of twenty-dollar Foster-Grants!”
- Gangs have monikers rather than nicknames, more professional that way.
My gang has Calliope, Uranus, Supremo, Cacahuate, Chu-Chu, La Patty, Pliny the Younger and the Mountebanc brothers – Reginald and Rollo.
It’s not your typical gang, though.
Posted by Harry Bergeron on 2007 01 29 at 01:08 PM • permalink
- #8
Another lovely job, Paco.When I was a third-year med student doing my first wards rotation in General Surgery, one of my fellow students (the most mild-mannered guy you’d ever want to meet) was given the nickname “Spike” by the surgical interns. Heaven knows why.
He did seem to get a kick out of it though. “Yo, Spike!” would always make him grin.
- Back when I was working a real job (and keeping a secret blog), my boss was Snarler, and my supervisor was Milquetoast (M. naturally spent his life with his nose stuck up Snarler’s bum, hence the nickname). I liked most of my coworkers, so they didn’t have nicknames, but there was Janet From Another Planet for a while. She was definitely an Alien Among Us, but she didn’t last long. Apparently her replacement was another Alien, but thankfully I retired soon after that, so I never got around to naming her. And yes, everyone in the office (except the aforenamed) was aware of these nicknames.
- once worked for a large corporation whose (local) management team consisted of – among others – mad jack, miss america, and fat-butt.
didn’t much like it there.
Posted by jimmy quest on 2007 01 29 at 02:49 PM • permalink
- oh! and “twinkie”: who once silenced a loud, boisterous lunchroom full of blue-collar college-age guys by deep-throating a twinkie (duh), sucking out the delicious cream filling, and then licking her fingers clean with an angelic smile.
quite a gal.
Posted by jimmy quest on 2007 01 29 at 02:51 PM • permalink
- A reminder from the past: the Cow-Orker. Many amusing situations and happenings discussed, in some detail. And it’s Aussie goodness.
Cheers
Posted by J.M. Heinrichs on 2007 01 29 at 02:52 PM • permalink
- Oh, I forgot “Captain Chaos” who was one of our PAs and so named because of his ability to f*** a wet dream (although he was otherwise a pretty good guy) and “Auto-injector Man” (behind his back) one of our physicians who earned the moniker after stabbing himself with an atropine auto-injector whilst he was trying to use it to put in an IV port (don’t ask). We couldn’t find any atropine in regularly injectable form so his idea was that the needle would inject straight into the port and the drug would then flow into the patient in the normal manner of any drug injected in an IV (the auto-injector needle shoots out two or three inches so I was skeptical). Instead, he had it upside down so that when he put pressure on it the needle shot through his hand and he got a small dose of the medicine.
My buddy Jack and I used to do a little skit with him as superhero “Auto-injector Man” and me as his sidekick “Syringe”. Jack would sing the theme song:
Auto in-jec-tor man
Stabs himself with di-az-epamAnd then we would act out the little drama:
Auto-injector man: stand back Syringe, I see someone in need of medication.
Syrine (meekly): um, Auto-injector man, would you like for me to show you how to do that? It’s a very simple procedure.
Auto-injector man: Nonsense Syringe, why I’ll just…AHHHHHHHH!
- My supervisor’s supervisor came out to our office to meet us, and to get in the way while we tried to be productive. When we addressed him as Mr. _______, he kept telling us to call him Tim. So forever after he was known to us as Timmah!!!!Posted by David Crawford on 2007 01 29 at 04:07 PM • permalink
- In the service I was Redz (hair), and other guys on my team of genial cutthroats were Chief (American Indian), Taco (derived from last name), Friz (from hair), Savage (derived from last name), Tiny (from size), Chopper (from transportation), Crash (derived from 1st name), Ralph (from vomit), and Teeth (from dentition).
To my wife I am at various times studmuffin or youdumbshit, depending on her mood.
- Platypus Man?
Heheheh. Bwahahahahaha!
That’s classic, paco.
Posted by Spiny Norman on 2007 01 29 at 04:57 PM • permalink
- At the newspaper I used to work at I was called Cliff. As in “Cliff Claven”.
I didn’t find it particularly amusing.
Posted by Spiny Norman on 2007 01 29 at 04:58 PM • permalink
- Spiny: Glad you got a chuckle out of it.
With respect to your former workplace, it sounds like you might have been surrounded by philistines and dunderheads who were biased against intelligence and education. That might just have been a job for . . . Platypus Man! He will watch the skies, waiting for the authorities to flash the platypus signal.
- When I was at uni we used to call the medical students “Meds” coz they were stuck up c***s.
Can I say that here without getting in the poo? Guess I’ll find out!
Posted by Jack Lacton on 2007 01 29 at 05:41 PM • permalink
- This thread is a cack. 🙂
One mod I worked with had a heap of nicknames: Wellen (Dowd), Bruno, Fitter, Insane, Popcorn, Rosco, Aunty Ades and Rambo.
Guess which one was me.
As for hanging out with the girls, well, we had a hardcore of me, Animal, Lethal and Hooley.
When my dad retired from the Army, he got a whole heap of telegrams addressed to: Snozz, Spaz and Hose Nose. I was most impressed with those.
Posted by Nilknarf Arbed on 2007 01 29 at 06:01 PM • permalink
- When the spice girls were in vogue some of the Hospitality students nicknamed their lecturers.
Scary Spice was a cranky cow.
Old Spice was pleasant but probably the oldest lecturer in the school.In my first job I was nicknamed Special K by the fellows on the factory floor.
And I have had all the appellations that a redhead can be given.In the ARES in the 70s we had:
“Buster” Hyman
Sgt Two-Names (he had a hyphenated surname)
“Extra” Keene (skinny bloke)
“Not-so” Keene (fat bloke)
Lofty (he was about 5 foot tall)More I can’t remember.
- I knew two blokes, one had the surname Castellez and the other, Faico. They worked closely together with poor results. They were referred to as one hyphenated name, clusterf**k – fiasco.
Another good mate has a small amount of American Indian in him. He is a laugh a minute and for him, the sun is always over the yardarm. We call him Chief drinking horse.
And meet Wild Bill, he takes taciturn to a new level.
- I used to play squash with a Szeszczodi (I think that was how he spelt it). So he became ‘Shadow’.
One of my former workmates had the surname Rynbout. He had a wealth of stories from his time in the RAN, so he became Rambo.
And a big bloke whose initials were MM became Big M.
Then there was the woman whose nickname was ‘Dartboard’, because she’d had more pr**ks than one. (And before anyone accuses me of sexism – women came up with that one. I’ve no idea whether it was true or not.) It was later shortened to DB; she heard it and asked why, and was told it meant ‘Dumb Blonde’ – she was actually rather pleased, because dumb blondes are at least pretty. She wasn’t.
I am, of course, Morgoon.
Posted by David Morgan on 2007 01 29 at 07:39 PM • permalink
- When I worked for Customs, nicknames were the sole method of identification (except for callsigns).
I managed to come up with a few- there is a hotel* in the Brisbane CBD then frequented by senior officers, Assistant Collectors and such- I was the 2ic at the mail exchange at the time, and the chief used to announce daily at about 1150 that he was off to a meeting; I dubbed him “Marco Polo”, as he was forever fucking off to the Orient*. Likewise I dubbed an underling at the Airport “Boots”, as that was all that was usually visible of him hanging out of the regional managers arse.
We had another chap known as “The Cruel Shepherd”, as he was always flogging his mutton; another character who was a little abrasive and officious was known as “Ankles”, due to the generally held view that he was 2 feet lower than a *unt.There were a myriad others, with reasonably more mainstream ones like “Tractor”, “Mumbles”, “Mugger”, “Kennels”, “Buckets” etc.
- At what was then Bell Northern research, but now Northern Telecom, I was Robert Wood NPY. My boss’s boss was also of the same name, including (still secret) middle initial. He had a Porsche.
Damn, there goes my secret identity …. or does it?
Posted by Wimpy Canadian on 2007 01 29 at 08:13 PM • permalink
- #47 I was thinker baser than that. Imagine a Brooklin-Cockney accent:
Do oil my hole.
Posted by Wimpy Canadian on 2007 01 29 at 08:14 PM • permalink
- We have a guy called blisters – he shows up after the work is finished.Posted by surfmaster on 2007 01 29 at 08:16 PM • permalink
- The local village idiot in rockhampton when I was growing up was dubbed “Hydro”, short for hydraulic, as he would lift anything. He used to ride around town on an accessory-laden bicycle talking to himself, and was gainfully employed as a part-time blaster at the local quarry; I’m a little uncertain if it was equal opportunity that led to a developmentally-challenged chap being let loose with explosives, or sheer idiocy on the part of the council; I’m opting for the latter. I also used to hoon around at night in a souped-up EH Holden wagon with a chap known as “Splitty”, short for split-pin; a veritible genius, who cut a hole in the drivers side floor, fitted a seat-high hose then welded a plate in place to fix the hose- he the ndidn’t have to make comfort stops while driving.
- Showbags – worth $5 and full of shit.Posted by Infidel Tiger on 2007 01 29 at 08:35 PM • permalink
- We also had a tall Sri Lankan fellow working with us for a while, and he was known variously as “The Dark Clerk”, or the “Wily Leg Spinner”. When promoted over some less able officers he was referred to by same with the rather unpleasant epithet of “Superboong”. A sacking offence these days, or at least an order for lengthy, stupifying counselling. None of the names seemed to bother the chap in question, possibly due to the fact that his real name was Michelle. A crewmember of my launch was known as “Tripod” after an episode which involved an unfettered appendage appearing from the bottom of his shorts during a visit by the PM of Papua New Guinea and his wife.
- #55 Habib, if I didn’t know better (and I don’t, actually), I’d swear that you are, in reality, George MacDonald Fraser; there is the same sublime, bawdy prose as I’ve only ever heard uttered by General Flashman. As a comic wordsmith, you work only in the purest gold. There is at least one unique and hilarious metaphor (and usually several) in every single comment you bung down. Positively wonderful stuff.
- At my previous full-time job, at a mortgage company in Miami, I was known as “Bruja” and “Broom Jockey.” I worked with a bunch of telemarketers—they were great target practice.Posted by Andrea Harris, Administrator on 2007 01 29 at 09:22 PM • permalink
- PS: paco knows how “broom jockey” evolved from “bruja.” And how to pronounce the latter. When I was a kid I was called “La Flaca” a lot, but I haven’t been that in a while.Posted by Andrea Harris, Administrator on 2007 01 29 at 09:24 PM • permalink
- #59 Tex,
” A quarter?!, arrr, he’ll be dancin’ for hours!”.Posted by Daniel San on 2007 01 29 at 09:26 PM • permalink
- My wife worked with a woman they called Maureen (but not to her face). Not much of a nick-name you might say but bear in mind her real name was Coreen Munt.
I worked with a bloke by the name of Haig who we suspected of being a little light-fingered. Called him Hydraulic Haig – lift anything
Posted by Whale Spinor on 2007 01 29 at 09:33 PM • permalink
- Tally from Italiano for me…My parents background.
At least I have never been called FIG JAM ….I hope.
Posted by The Big Fish on 2007 01 29 at 09:41 PM • permalink
- Oh looky, told you the possibilty HIV may not exist. First at Blair news!!
http://www.theaustralian.news.com.au/story/0,20867,21139484-23289,00.html
Also tim b, with the water crisis and poo water being used as a possibility, just wanted to highlight that human (poo)h20 carries small microbes with proteins in it that we’re unable to see. This could be dangerous.l
- We had the universal nickname of “softcock” for any senior management figure at ACM after numerous violent acts resulted in the offenders being given what they wanted. Mine was the mole cos I allways found everything I wasnt supposed to.
Also known as “officer carpet” by detainees as I would bring in sections I could pinch for mats and rooms.
Also known as a hobbit at 3 of my jobs, for reasons that escape me.Posted by thefrollickingmole on 2007 01 29 at 09:49 PM • permalink
- #68 – Scratch that – they’re shit house.Posted by Infidel Tiger on 2007 01 29 at 09:50 PM • permalink
- #43. yup. Sad, isn’t it? I have go out with a fellow who used to call me Petal, because I was such a delicate and fragile little flower hahahaha.
Also worked with the inevitable Mirror -as in, I’ll look into it. And that’s all he did.
And one bloke who also had Walter as a christian name but didn’t like it. He preferred to be addressed as his second name. Needless to say we all called him Wally.
Posted by Nilknarf Arbed on 2007 01 29 at 09:53 PM • permalink
- Jeez, this brings back memories. In the exchange we had a woman named Claire who we all called Chocolate E behind her back.
And another we called Stump, because that’s exactly what she looked like. Short, dumpy and dumb as.
Posted by Nilknarf Arbed on 2007 01 29 at 09:54 PM • permalink
- “Sir.”
Although some of the Puerto Ricans in my first platoon tried to convince me ‘pendejo’ meant ‘sir.’
I told them I thought it meant “let’s dig.”
Posted by richard mcenroe on 2007 01 29 at 10:07 PM • permalink
- Hmmmmmmm….I don’t know if this story is true, I have it second hand from a former resident of a town in Illinois (I won’t say which one).
There, two WWII veterans lived and worked together. Both had been seriously wounded in combat. One was blind, and the other had lost both legs fairly high up.
The blind man would push the other vet around town in a wheelbarrow, with the legless vet doing the navigating.
The town bestowed the nicknames of “Stumps” and “Blinky” upon these two gentlemen.
Posted by The_Real_JeffS on 2007 01 29 at 10:08 PM • permalink
- Everyone had a nickname at my first job.
There was,
John Cougar Mellonhead – due to the blokes massive head.
2 dicks, shorten to 2, as in no one could be that silly playing with one.
3 dicks, see above.
Muddy, short for mudguard.
Rambo, because he’d been in the army.
Diff, because he did nothing but whine.
The bitch, because he was one.
Plus plenty more, very few of which are suitable for mixed company.
- During the Bruce Lee/kung fu craze of the mid ‘70s, a pleasant but not especially gifted schoolchum of mine was rather partial to roundhouse kicks and much noisy airchops, and used to practice on his long-suffering jersey milkers; I dubbed him “Guano”, telling him it was Cantonese for silent floating crane-style master; he was as proud as punch until he found out what it really meant, and chased me for bloody miles. The bastard’s now a Senior Seargent in the plod- I NEVER speed or get blotto anywhere near Townsville, otherwise I’d likely wind up like Mulrunji.
- Our helicopter squadron boasted Short Wheels, Sneak Attack, Big Ugly, Stiletto, Smoke, Hardrock, Donger, Rat, Sky, Bif, Beast, Soul Man, Hick, Ho Chi, Booger, Jose B., The Mayor (of Olangapo), Cargo Cow, Fast Eddie, Battlefield, and Hemroid, among others. Best two were for some female pilots. One named Tracy (known as Dickless), another named Frampton (you guessed it: Peterless). Course that was back in the day when such nicknames were fun, not crmes.
Humorless feminist: “Fun for who?”
Posted by Vanguard of the Commentariat on 2007 01 29 at 10:48 PM • permalink
- At a former job we had two old guys who worked there (barely). Originally they were known as Slappy and Chuckles because, basically, they had absolutely no sense of humor. By the time I got there their productivity was waning. 1 Chuckles + 1 Slappy = 0.75 man-hours of work, at best. They would talk about how close they were to retiring. Never mind that they seemed to have started the “not working” part of retiring already.
We hired a young woman, a former Army captain. She said that people like Slappy and Chuckles were known as “Retired In Place” in the Army. So we started to call them the RIP Boys.
Posted by David Crawford on 2007 01 29 at 10:50 PM • permalink
- An acquiantance of mine managed to score the monniker “Plankton” (lowest form of animal life) after an incident at a conference at Kooralbyn Valley Resort involving being so refreshed that a walk-in wardrobe was mistaken for the lavatory- just as well most of his shoes were brown.
The data processing lasses at the Customs House were not known for their fondness for salad, and I came up with an economical method of describing shipping containers; a 20’ box became a 2DPO box, a 40’likewise a 4DPO, based on how many of these svelte nymphs could be comfortably stowed in said receptacle. This bacame widely accepted until some scallywag told the ladies in question the true meaning, resulting in (very slow) pursuit, much ill feeling and approbation.
- We used to have a guy in my medical group known as “Robert-Don’t-Call-Me-Bob.” He wanted to be known by his full name only, had absolutely no sense of humor and no one could stand him. My best friend here became engaged to a guy named Bob and, at the office holiday party that year, promptly introduced him to RDCMB in this fashion:
“Bob, I’d like you to meet my fiance… Robert.”
He left the group shortly afterwards.
- I couldn’t tell you what my co-workers call me, mainly because they mutter it under their breath as I leave the room.Posted by SwinishCapitalist on 2007 01 29 at 11:29 PM • permalink
- This is as good a place as any to acknowledge the great Habib crashing through the 2000 post mark. Onya Habib.Posted by Margos Maid on 2007 01 29 at 11:35 PM • permalink
- BTW I fear that Blair may be trying to transmit a hidden message in the heading of this post, but frankly, I have no interest whatsoever in finding out the true meaning of Soobie, Moz, Chuckles, Herbie or the Goz…Posted by Margos Maid on 2007 01 29 at 11:56 PM • permalink
- #90 echoing Paco, your comic prose is to die for Habib.
Played football with a bloke who was a genius for nicknames. ‘Ankles’ was probably my favourite—given to a team member who confessed at training that his favourite form of foreplay was to kiss a woman’s ankles (‘Whatthefuck’re ya doin’ down there, Ankles? You should be up in the furburger!’)
A Polish player whose name was unpronounceable was simply known as ‘Alphabet’. A dark and rather hirsute Colombian (who had played professionally in Colombia and was far & away our best player) was known very affectionately as Misty, short for ‘Gorillas in the Mist’. Our team potty-mouth became known (and is still known to this day around the Far North Coast) as ‘Shitter.’
I am known almost universally as Johnno except for my wife who calls me Yoni, the Hebrew diminutive of Yonatan. I am not Jewish but had a longtime Israeli girlfriend who called me that. I guess my wife acquired the rights to it when she acquired me…
- A crim lawyer mate of mine represented a guy nicknamed ‘Mackerel Bait’ a few years back. Mackerel Bait had attempted to hold up his own branch of the Commonwealth Bank in Ballina with a balaclava over his head. The teller recognised him and said to him very kindly, ‘Mackerel Bait, I know it’s you. Go home.’
To which Mackerel Bait shook his head vehemently and replied, ‘No, it’s not me, it’s not me…’
- Hmm. From ADF days.
Greenteeth. A truly vile and disgusting senior female officer.Mudguard. An Admiral of the bald persuasion. Shiny on top, shit underneath.
Blinky Bill. Another Admiral. Little beady eyes close together, huge ears, and the IQ of a koala.
Megatripe. AKA tripod, AKA ‘Holy shit look at the size of that thing’. Only man I ever knew who had to pick which trouser leg to stuff it down in the morning. He NEVER wore shorts ‘cause it hung below his knees.
Straingauge. Megatripe’s very, VERY small, petite, elfin wife. Weighed about 40kg wringing wet while wearing seaboots and oilskins.
Smurfmolester. Just do not ask about this one.
Sheeznot. From his standard refrain in transvestite bars in Singapore when picking up a bonk for the night: ‘She’s not a bloke!’ Of course, ‘she’ usually was.
Canbang. Got really drunk in Oxford St one night and was worried for weeks that some bloke had ‘banged his can’. Previously referred to as Captain Cabbage for his titanic intellect.
Dropshort. A gunner who had a really bad day once. But not as bad as the poor buggers on the range.
Sixpack. An officer. Had the six beers but lacked the plastic thingy that held it all together.
The Eeler. Slimiest bastard I ever knew.
Puckerfactor. Based on his driving skills.
F’FRUBB. Another officer. F***ing Fat Repulsive Ugly Bald Bastard.
KP (short for Kiddieporn). The name is a badge of honour. He found a neighbour was making this stuff. Former neighbour probably still drinks steaks thru a straw and doubtless has zero use from his genitals. I don’t know if he can walk, but hope not.
Me, I’m boring. One nickname was ‘speedy’ for my utter lack of ability to run very fast. Of course, that made the decision to stand and fight kinda easy….MarkL
Canberra
- #92- a former co-resident known as “Chainsaw” who lived with me in a charming pied a tere christened “The Skull Cave” had regular visits from an enterprising fellow known as “Bob the Dog”; Bob was a real entrepreneur, and usually had all manner of commodities for sale for amazingly low prices, ranging from video players to whitegoods. Bob used to dissapear for a period of time, perhaps on a holiday earnt from his merchandising, then reappear with a whole new range of goods and chattels.
You just don’t see that sort of enterprise these days.
- We had a guy called ‘leatherman’ because he was such a tool. We also had FONC Friend Of No C#$t and FINCLFONK F$#*&ng; Idiot No C&%t Liked Friend of No C*#t. Cutback because he couldn’t surf. The Chicken Dinner because he was a self proclaimed ‘winner’ – a point noone agreed with. ‘Gayfish’ because, well noone can remember. Spot the Dog because he had a birthmark on his chin and Deckchairs because he was so laid back. BUC (which) he thought was a reference to his rugby prowess as in Buck Shelford but was really Big Useluss C#*t. Bob Sled after Bob tipped the ice out of an esky on a Townsville roof where we were drinking and then slid off the roof. Both Kinds because he liked Country and Western. Circles because he was always lost. Have a Chat the barber who wouldn’t shut up – once famously asked how a guy would like his haircut? Quietly his response. GaGa because of his hearty laugh. Lee Harvey because he shot a guy. Wheelbarrow with a Z because he had a long name no one could pronounce that started with a Z. Lobster was the fitness instructor with a beautiful body but a head full of sh*t. Needless to say I spent time in the Army.Posted by platey mates on 2007 01 30 at 02:27 AM • permalink
- “Wheelbarrow” was also a term used in Customs as well for anyone with an unpronouncable surname, such as Zerzy Xyzrenovich became Zerzy Wheelbarrow. Very useful. “Melitz” was code at the pub for PA calls, as Lenny Melitz didn’t drink and would never be there, and a call could be put over without alerting senior troops that you hadn’t returned from lunch (while of course they were still there)- a call would go over for “Habib Melitz”, and you knew who was being paged. The pubs out near the wharves had their own callsigns as well-for example Hamilton had 3 wharves, and the Hammo pub was “Ham 4” so you could let the radio room know you were tucked up, and they knew where to track you down.
- Worked at a mine where one of the guys was named Becile – first name Kim so it was short for Kimbecile – and he was. Only once did someone call him that on the radio – there was a big pause then he calls back – “I am not replying to that name.”
Not the sharpest tool in the shed, also had a resume that was thicker than War and Peace so be warned.
- This is a bit sideways from the thread.
I worked at the Paralympics in 2000. When it was all over, we had a big party, as you do.
A lot of the paralympians partied with us. Christ, they could put it away.
Anyway, yours’ truly was well lubricated and screamed out, ” let’s get all the athletes Blind and Legless”.
Oh, wait, they already are!!!
After what I thought was a ‘shocked’ silence, the athletes were cacking themselves louder than the volunteers.
It was a great night. There were arms and legs flying everywhere. Literally!!!
- Habib … we both once worked with the late Childers, I can’t remember how he got that name. Many years ago in the same place, nearly every senior manager had a nickname to intimidate, like the Face Treader or The Frothing Dog. Worked with some ex Navy guys called Scuba and Periscope, also Frog from the Commandos, and an interesting fellow called Coco, a dead ringer for the Coco Pops (Cocoa Krispies) monkey of cereal fame. He didn’t mind being called Coco. I’ve forgotten so many. If you can put an “o” or a “y” at the end of someones name, then you’ve probably got their nickname.
- Infidel Tiger,
I tried that site, apparently my nick-name is “cinnamon pink mouth”. I hold you personally responsible for this abomination. That is all.Posted by Daniel San on 2007 01 30 at 07:41 AM • permalink
- I have known the following:
– Plank, because of the 4×2 in his shorts
– Spider (enough said)
– Horse, as in a head like one
– Feed ‘em up ducks, because he was caught “feeding the chooks” (wanking) and it somehow morphed into “feed ‘em up ducks”
– Cylon, because he had a tick in his eyes that made them go back and forth like the Battlestar Gallactica droids
– Sheep, thanks to his curly blonde hair
– Herman, Boxhead or Herman Munster, as he had a big square head and was the spitting image of Herman Munster
– Lamb, younger brother of sheep
– Spoonface, who was missing the cartilage in his nose and thus had a completely flat face
– Chook (is there anyone that hasn’t bumped into a Chook? I have known three.)
– Rocklobster, usually used in conjunction with singing along to the B52’s song of the same name.
– Keg ‘O Leg, because he bonked a girl with legs like a beer keg
– Badger, as in “bald as a badger”
– Filthy, or Filthy Phil, short for Phil McCracken
– Peachy, because her arse was shaped like a peachWe even had a song for plank (real name Shane), which went something like:
Shano, Shano
Everywhere that you look
Boom boom boom boom
Shano, Shano
Every cranny and nook
Over the sea
Around the tree
Shit! It’s coming back to strangle me
Shano, Shano etc etc repeat endlesslyPosted by mr creosote on 2007 01 30 at 08:23 AM • permalink
- #105- Childers came from the fact he was called Howard, and was fucking near.
Bastard was a real gent, played schoolboy rugby for Wales and got me back in the game to play for Teachers Norths, and we won a bloody grand final with the likes of Andy Slack and the Barkers; his memory should be slightly tarnished however, as he introduced the Oggi Oggi Oggi, Oi Oi Oi to crowds at Ballymore- an old Taff chant, which has since been picked up by every retard with a functional voicebox and perverted from its origin.
When I hear Aussie Aussie Aussie Oi Oi Oi, I either cringe, or hit someone for being a fuckwit.
- Habib … thanks for the explanation. I lost a lot of brain lobes drinking with Childers, the more jars we both had, the better the stories became, most of them pretty tall. mr creosote, yes know two Chooks, also Bastard (son of a minister), Bean (tall), brothers Keg and Barrel, a Rowdy … my brain lobes must be regenerating! Still way too many to remember.
- There’s a guy I worked with Kuwait, I call him “Kmart”. He was obsessed with following procedure and would flip out if you didn’t do things the way he thought you were supposed to (We were civilians, the job had no procedure, we just had a job to do: Find high demand parts and ship them to their repair programs). He was the ultimate beaurocrat. Absolutely no value added. Obsessed with maintaining appearances.
He reminded me of Hoffman in Rain Man, “We have to buy them at Kmart, Oak and Burnett… It’s not Kmart… We have to go back to Cincinnati and Kmart… Have to get to Kmart.”
Heh, and the guy was senior to me. At one point I said out loud, “That guy shouldn’t have a job and neither should whoever hired him. I thought that’s what we invented welfare for, so we wouldn’t deal with people like that.”
- Had a lot of good rugby team nicknames:
“The Bastard” – he had two girlfriends at the same time…they both sat next to each other at a local bar and struck up a conversation about their new boyfriend…a while later, in he walks and they scream at him “you BASTARD”. Took me years to find out his real name.
“Snackbar” – almost missed the Illinois Union championship because he was out scrounging up hotdogs or such.
“Gabby” – very quiet guy. Years later I saw him win $125,000 on ‘Who wants to be a Millionaire’.
“Toasterhead” – he could snort a condom through the back of his throat and out his nose. Did he ever win ALOT of beer in bar bets.
“Cabbage”, “Keghead”, “Nuprin”, “Boots”, “White Trash”, “Old Man” … I think very few of us went by our given names.
Posted by Major John on 2007 01 30 at 04:08 PM • permalink
- #28, paco, sounds like you also need to meet
tarantuman!
http://www.chellar.com/ballog/?page_id=84Posted by carpefraise on 2007 01 31 at 02:03 AM • permalink
- #28 oops tarantuman at
http://www.chellar.com/ballog/?page_id=84Posted by carpefraise on 2007 01 31 at 02:04 AM • permalink
- #34 Amos, do you realise that backwards your name is Soma?
Use it with grace and humour, Bodyboy.
Posted by carpefraise on 2007 01 31 at 02:11 AM • permalink
- I forgot about spoofhead, named for his amazingly white hair. Supposedly the colour of spoof.Posted by mr creosote on 2007 01 31 at 08:28 AM • permalink
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