Had stomach bug for a few days
I'm the sort of bloke who won't go to the doctors, not even if my leg is hanging off (maybe I lied) so when I had a touch of the plops I just thought 'nevermind' and carried on with my sleep-shit-work-shit-eat-shit-work-shit-eat-shit-sleep routine. On the 3rd day I was a pale white colour, couldn't eat or piss properly, stank and to top it off I needed a crap every 15 minutes. I lasted my 12 hour shift and felt my stomach gurgling while I was in the line to clock off but thought, yet again 'nevermind' and proceeded to set off in the direction of the carpark. Upon sitting in my car I felt a warm gravy trickle down my arse cheek and realised I had to get home fast. Bleary eyed and panicking I drove 90+ miles an hour down a country lane and did a 20 minute journey in 7 minutes. I fumbled my key into the door, screaming in agony as my bum nearly gave way and ran towards the downstairs toilet. The screaming woke my mum who came to see what all the fuss was about and was confronted by my bare arse, hands still clawing at the toilet door.
I shat all up my mum, all over the carpet, all over my clothes, in the shower, in the washing basket etc etc.
Turns out I had a serious case of gastro-enteritis and was very, very ill.

Moral of the story, when your body says 'you're ill' see a doctor
(Merrick I cure cats with hammers, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 21:50, 1 reply)

This QOTW is made for the likes of me.
My other half regularly takes the piss out of me for being clumsy, and I don't deny I can be quite the beadlehands. This has a lot to do with the fact I stood on his old phone and cracked the inner screen, but not the outer one, so now his old phone (which he gave to his mum) has an eye of Sauron on the screen.

When I was 17 and about to start learning to drive my parents took me to one of those massive outdoor car lots up near Nottingham to look for a small drivable car for us. On getting out of a Polo or something I shut the door and said "Yeah, I like that on....ARRRGHHHHOWWWWWW", and looked down to find the source of the pain was having shut the door on my thumb. Eventually the nail went a disgusting shade of purple before dropping off and a new one grew with a huge dent in it (less so now, admittedly) and I was in pain for about six hours afterwards despite ice and plasters and cream and tea. It was not pretty.
( Maladicta, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 21:25, 2 replies)

Stuck for life
Got myself addicted to drugs and alcohol, got myself a criminal record and declared myself bankrupt.

Now I'm 8 months clean, skint and have to 'enjoy' my first Christmas with not so much as a spoonful of brandy butter.

Merry fucking christmas.

This was typed with an ounce of self pity and a kilo of humbug! he he
(Oops....did I say that out loud cos I really bloody want to., Fri 21 Dec 2007, 21:17, 4 replies)

Still don't know how I managed this one... still feeling sick thinking about it
Got back to my car after a day at work; and noticed a pigeon had crapped on it.

Got paranoid about it taking the paint off my car... wanted to wipe it off with a tissue, but didn't have any in the car.

As it was reasonably dry, I then decided to rub it off with my hand. (Pretty grim enough...)

Then I got in the car, looked at my hand and thought "what's that mess on my hand?". And then licked it off. And then realised exactly what I'd done.

*shudders*
( biscuitbiscuit is in ur garden, watering ur plantz, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 20:53, 3 replies)

Always preview before you post...
When I was younger and prone to fits of emo blog-posting, I tended to go back and forth between making my blog public and private. One time I switched it off private ... but obviously, I forgot. I posted some very private details about a friend's romantic life that he'd told me in confidence. He was the first person to read it, so at least the secrets were saved from getting out... but I'm still kicking myself in abject embarrassment over the whole thing.
(echomikeromeo, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 20:32, Reply)

Oh yeah
on a depressing level...

I tried to 'end it all' once.
Painful, embarrassing, hurtful to all those around me, stupidest thing I EVER did. On a plus side, it made me happy to be alive! Merry (almost) Christmas!
( SauronWibble I'll hold it, you lick it..., Fri 21 Dec 2007, 19:54, Reply)

b3ta
I once shut down my company's website by using their webspace to post my b3ta images. I was a bit silly and had to ask the board what it meant when I got an email saying the bandwidth level had shut us down for two weeks. Luckily my Boss was on holiday so didn't get caught. I shat myself though. All in a good cause!!
( SauronWibble I'll hold it, you lick it..., Fri 21 Dec 2007, 19:49, Reply)

you do run run run
I ran a half marathon. That's only slightly dumb (in that I run like a girl, but hey, I am a girl). Anyway, what made it dumber was that I ran on a slight injury, a mere muscle twinge, a little tightness in the calf.

By the eighth mile I was nearly weeping with pain but I soldiered on bravely, determined to get a sub two hour time and nobly raise several hundred quid for charity.

No wonder it hurt. Turned out I had broken my leg (stress fracture) round the halfway mark and had made it a lot worse by running on it, fuelled mainly by adrenalin, pride and Lucozade Sport. I spent a month on crutches, the sofa and very strong painkillers.
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 19:47, 3 replies)

I put forward the argument
that stories starting 'not me but' should be disqualified.

No disrespect to those that post such entries but , I mean on this subject it's gotta be personal yanno.
(bensMum I'm a tart. Why can't you cope with that?, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 19:42, 10 replies)

value steak knives
after an afternoon/evenings drinking and smoking. i had a bet with my missus at the time that tesco value steak knives weren't sharp. now, being rather stoned, i didn't really feel how hard i'd sliced it, and then i saw the 'hole' in my arm. i never knew bones were kinda pink! massive blood loss+alcohol+drugs ended in me being rushed to hospital unconcious. had to have a blood transfusion and an operation to sort my arm out, 3bloody days i was in there.
i've now got a good 5inch scar across my right arm.
Still had to give her the tenner for the bet!
(jimlahey doesn't care what you think since, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 19:40, Reply)

Have you ever wondered.......
what happens when you pop a mobile phone in to an oven that has been pre-heated to 200 degrees Celsius for about 10 minutes?

Funnily enough, neither had I, but my better half decided to pop my phone in the oven with the pizza this evening - I now have a melted mass of plastic where my phone used to be.

Length - well it sort of splits apart at the end.
(Raid3r, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 19:39, 1 reply)

Karaoke
On a work's night out when I was 18, I was talked into going up for karaoke - the first time I'd ever done so. And the song I chose?

'Don't Stop Me Now' by Queen. Fucking hell, that song's fast. And when you've had 4 pints and a couple of whiskys, it's fucking impossible to keep up.

I still flinch when I hear it...
(Pavlov's Frog figures no-one really reads sigs anyway, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 19:36, Reply)

I left the pub for the christmas show
Last day of term today. w00t. So me and a couple of the lads decided to go down to the pub and have a few drinks down there. Every year our 6th form puts on a christmas show (the same show in which my head of 6th form's balls fell out on stage).

I left the pub at 2pm, not wanting to miss what, i had been promised, would be "the best one ever". Bollocks was it.

Mystic Reg was crap, the year 13 girls dance was not even that sexy (they stuck a fat girl in the middle god damn it + it was to busted's Herk the Herald Angles sing!) and the jokes were not funny.

I would have been better to stay at the pub.

length? 1 and a half hours of shite
(Foulkesy123 The one and only..., Fri 21 Dec 2007, 18:54, 1 reply)

I once married a crack head
whilst unaware of his habit[s]

Habit[s] being crack & brown

Drove me a dandy hellish dance I can tell you


Mug? Me?


Fuck yes

But, to be fair, it didn't last long, the length was short but sharp.


I may come up with a more stupid thing, given time, but I doubt it
(bensMum I'm a tart. Why can't you cope with that?, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 18:20, Reply)

Not me, but
I was once at a not atypical teenage party at a friend's house. They'd just had a new fence built at the bottom of the garden, and since they were having an extension built at the time, there were lots of tools left lying around.

The party proceeded. I got drunk, got off with a larger lady, was sick, went to sleep, all by about midnight. Oh, how original, you remark, rolling your eyes. Well, this isn't about me, remember.

During this time, a compatriot of mine had also hit the booze hard, so hard, in fact, he thought it was time to do something spectacular.

I awoke at four in the morning to hear a loud mechanical buzzing and some girls screaming in the distance. Oh dear, I think, time for round two of the vomit game, and I shuffle off to the loo. Where, having finished, I fall asleep again.

It was not until the next morning when I discovered the cause of those bizarre noises. My friend had, whilst completely and utterly trollied, thought it would be a superb idea, not to mention make him extremely attractive, to cut down the hosts brand new fence with a big-fucking-chainsaw the builders had carelessly left lying around. I hadn't witnessed it, but apparently he was swinging it round like rock stars do their microphones. Hence the screaming, understandably.

He then, by all accounts (he claims not to be able to remember) ran off into the night, hooting.

He was found the next morning in a nearby telephone box, still really very drunk, where he had apparently spent the rest of the night 'talking to the operator'.

He has never been allowed back in that house again, and obviously had to pay for the fence. I still haven't decided whether it's the best or worst thing he's ever done.
(WarneMarsh My priority for frivolity begets quality jollity, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 18:07, Reply)

in the eye
a few years ago i was sat in my room by my pc chatting away on msn. Hunger struck me and a snack was in order.
So off i went downstairs in search of something to munch on. While in the kitchen i grab myself a banana and start walking back to my bedroom.
Halfway up the stairs i get an itchy nose, forgetting that i've got a banana in my hand i decide to reach up to scratch my nose.

I poked myself in the eye with the banana.....
( schizophrenic_sheep, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 17:49, Reply)

hahaha, one of many, one of many....
Just over a year ago I had heard about people buying BZP off the internet, to those of you who don't know, BZP is apparently an ecstasy replacement and was completely legal in the UK at the time.

Shopping on the websites was like being a kid in a candy store! Oh what flavour to choose? What do I want to be feeling? Ooh the decisions...

I decided to go for 2 different types of tablets in the end, a packet of 3 purple XXX BZP tablets from a company called London Underground and a little tub of tablets called Purple something. Anyway, it cost about £17 in total, but I thought, hey!, it's legal, so it's "obviously better for you than the illegal stuff".

I'm not sure why I didn't decide to engage the use of logic at this point, but anyway, the tablets arrived in a small jiffy bag. My brother was due to be coming around that night for a party and we were looking forward to trying them out, as you do.

I got impatient and decided to have one of the XXX's. I waited for an hour and a half and my brother had not arrived, nor was I off my face. Most disappointing! In fact, everything was pretty damn normal. So I decided to have 2 of the other tablets instead, which apparently was the normal dosage for those particular pills. Still logic had not engaged at this point, the tablets had arrived in unsealed containers with labels on, one of them was just a plastic bag stapled to a bit of cardboard, I still didn't stop to think.

This is when things started getting weird, I was playing Battlefield 2 on the 360 and everything started going extremely slow, I mean like someone had slowed down the game to about a 10th of it's normal speed. I stepped away from the game and decided to walk about, everything seemed normal speed, except now I was extremely agitated. So I went and played some more of the game, but got too freaked out by seemingly running rings around people before they had even noticed i was there. (Believe me, it was that weird).

I turned that shit off and just sat on the sofa, like a plum, waiting for my brother to arrive, who being an older brother, would assure me that everything is fine, and to just chill out, but it was to be another hour before he arrived. By the time he actually arrived the room was already pulsating different colours and every now and then it looked as if I was underwater.

Don't get me wrong, it was a hell of a thing to experience, but not what I wanted, not what I wanted at all. My brother had one of the XXX tablets and the evening just got weirder from there. I mean really weird, it was more like acid than ecstacy. I could see lines coming out of things as if everything was connected to each other.

That all lasted for about 6 hours in total, then a 36 hour come down was to follow, which was not good and I ended up in a hospital waiting room, curled into a ball in the corner of the room, watching the magazines move around the table on their own, just waiting for the world to end. (Amongst other things, please don't think this was fun :( )

Moral of the story? Treat yourself with a little respect and don't buy dodgy pills of the internet, get them off your dealer instead ;) j/k

Edit: Since that day, I have not touched drugs :) except booze...
( Firkinfedup last shat on your wife's tits at, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 17:41, 2 replies)

If you're lazy and you don't push your garage door up all the way...
Then you'll end up very very pissed off half an hour later when you forget.



Picture was after I'd washed the blood out, so had to do it again. And again. Before finally calling someone medically trained to check whether I'd hit brain or something.

Oh and yes, it's about the seventh time I've walked into that bloody door. Do I now make sure it's always fully up? No of course not, I just filed off the sharp corners....
(clopinettes, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 17:38, Reply)

Chancing traffic
Both me and one of my mates are avid cyclists, and used to often go cycling along the canal that runs through our village. To get down to the thing, one has to nip down a hill and cross the perpendicular road.

Out of a cross between laziness in stopping to look both ways or as a small adrenaline buzz, we always didn't bother to look and nipped straight out onto the road. This is a backwards village so the road was almost always clear. It was months before this (looking back, it was incredibly stupid) stupid disregard of safety caught up on us.

Out for one of our canal rides as usual, we cross the road with my mate in front and me at the back. The car coming sideways at 35mph obviously didn't brake in time, but luckily I did - And watched one of my best mates make contact with it's bonnet and fly a good few meters into the doorway of the butchers.

As the shock kicks in, I realise that I have been partially responsible for the death of my pal, all until he suddenly stands up and declares "I'm OK!".... with not a lot of skin left on his arms and pissing blood everywhere.

Damage was a buckled frame, 2 rims and a pedal arm, a total write off. The metal pedal had also managed to embed itself somewhere inside the front of the car.

Took a few weeks to heal, and we cycle a lot more carefully these days!

Length? About 8 meters looking at the trail of blood
(MrBlue ding!, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 17:30, Reply)

To the Zodiac and beyond..
I've been living and working in Oxford for a while now, and before it's recent refurb and change of hands (and styles, sadly), I was a semi-regular attendee at friday nights of one of the towns most, er, salubrious estabilishments, the Zodiac.

My story takes place on one ill fated night, where, after imbibing the requisite amount of alcohol to find the place charming, I made to leave and find my way home. Now, for some reason, and here comes the dumb thing, I started my (short) journey home at a different angle than usual, 90 degrees different as it turns out.

So I proceeded to take my exact (or as close as possible) route home, just offset somewhat. So as the night goes on and the alcohol takes more of a grip and I get more and more disoriented, I am instantly transported (in my mind at least) to a road leading to my parents house.

It's along this road that I seem to find myself accompanied by some caring folk (real or imaginary, I've no idea), who are shepharding me safely along. Unfortunately, after walking for what seemed like an eternity I just wanted to sleep, and spotting a comfortable looking bush, I conferred with my new friends as to whether or not I should sleep there. They concurred with me, and I strode over, gracelessly fell back, and.....fade to black.

Next thing, I come to, walking, in a suburban street I've never seen before, everything thoroughly unfamiliar. I attempt to find something I recognise, a road name, landmark, building, anything, with no luck. Eventually after walking in circles, getting stuck at dead ends, I managed to find a main road, and chanced my arm on one of the two directions.

Turns out I guessed the right way, and got home around 2 hours later.

For anyone who knows the area, I had managed to get from the Zodiac to a street about two miles down Banbury road, which was a few miles directly, even more by the circuitous road route.

So there you go folks, all it takes is one wrong step...
(ShiftyBastard won the World Cup on World Soccer Champs 2010!, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 17:26, Reply)

If Pooflake can talk about shit, I can talk about piss…
I bought a cream linen suit earlier this year for a wedding. Since I work in an office environment where I have to look smart, I thought it would be ideal to wear for work on occasions as well. Granted I look like a Columbian drug dealer in it, but…

An unfortunate aside to this is, though, splash back when you go to the bog. Somehow, the urinals in our office reflect back instantly anything that hits them, more so if the damned thing starts to flush half-way through. So I try to remember to use the cubicals when wearing this particular suit. However, at times when these are occupied and have to use the urinal, I invariably look like I’ve pissed myself by the time I’ve finished. Which leads me to having to stand with my crotch at an ungainly angle under the hand dryer. So far no one has walked in on me, but it’s only a matter of time…

Now I know why most people where black or dark blue / grey suits for work.
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Fri 21 Dec 2007, 17:14, 5 replies)

bloody hoovers
i commit an act of sheer stupidity on an almost daily basis, so there isn't really one act that stands out too much, but i think 'riding' an upright hoover down the stairs and into my toughened glass front door was a bit silly. told the hospital i fell whilst tidying.
"at 3 in the morning?" came the reply.
also trying to use a set of peugeot lowering springs as homemade moonboots was also quite painful, although no trip to hospital was required.
oh, and never deliberately crash your old car to 'see what an airbag does' they feckin burn! and that powder bloody stinks.
(jimlahey doesn't care what you think since, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 17:03, Reply)

I've got piles
of stupid stories, oddly enough echoing some of those already posted.

Iron
I had a crappy, heavy old iron which took f-o-r-e-v-e-r to heat up. I got into the habit of heaving the thing up off the ironing board and waving it next to my cheek (face) to see if it was in any way warm. Then it went Kaput and I got a new, much lighter, much faster heating one. You’ll already have guessed the result: hot iron into face. The cool part – if you can call it that – was that only the edge of the iron made contact, and I was left with a rather fetching ‘duelling’ scar across my cheek. Length? About 4 inches.

Pitchfork
Me and my bro loved playing chicken – y’know, where you chuck a penknife at the steadily decreasing space between your feet – until the day we decided we were good enough to try it with a fuck-off big pitchfork. Again with predictable results – it went clean through bro’s wellie, foot, wellie again and an inch or two into the ground. I got a seriously good hiding for that one.

Shit
New Year’s Eve some years ago with the then Mrs Punch. Heavy snowfall, and we absolutely had to venture out (a) to check on her stupid fucking horse and (b) get some shopping. Leaving the supermarket, we took the scenic route home through a severe blizzard and ended up getting stuck in a snowdrift just outside a one-horse town. I knew I had something nasty brewing inside, and as we trudged towards the lights of a hostelry I attempted a sneaky fart. Ooooooh big mistake. I crapped myself quite generously.

Once inside the pub, I left Mrs Punch to get the drinks in while I strode (waddled?) urgently to the bog. It was all quite vile, but luckily my expensive designer underwear (Xmas present from Mrs Punch) had contained the blurp with little seepage. I cut myself out of them with a penknife and flushed the whole lot down the pan, then mopped up the smearage and lined my jeans with bog paper. Mrs Punch never found out. Length? About a pint.
( MisterPunch did it that way on, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 16:57, 1 reply)

Friend of a friend....
well, more lesbian girlfriend of a friend...

I noticed she had bandages on the shins of both legs

naturally I enquired how this happened.

her response?

"I was cutting the grass with a big kitchen knife and cut my leg....then I did it again"

I was speechless
( Vipros. clever got me this far, then tricky got me in, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 16:43, Reply)

Don't let curiousity sway you.
I have just been trawling through lots of Christmas tracks on iTunes to force myself into the Christmas spirit and found that someone had downloaded Busted's version of Hark the Herald Angels Sing. Now my smart brain kept telling me 'Don't! You know it will be shit' Alas though my idiotic side reigned supreme at that moment and I had a listen. Utter utter utter utter crap and it completely enforced my view that those high pitched boys are wankers.

Length? 3.37mins but I turned off after 30 seconds.
(RDFCRob Please God let Obama win!, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 16:38, Reply)

Civil War Stupidity
Okay, so I was working on this Civil War (American) film and one of the production crew advised me that despite having gotten up at the ass-crack of dawn and gone through hair, makeup, wardrobe and saddling up and leading my horse to the set, I was not going to be needed until well after lunch.

Brilliant thinks me. I need a nap.

So there were three other officers in the same situation and I said "Lets go over to that mock camp over there and start a fire." It was December and BLOODY COLD!

So we get over, collect the kindling and some logs and we have a perfect fire pyramid built...complete with newspaper for the starting of the blaze. But for whatever reason, the paper wouldnt light. It was damp and the morning dew was still an issue I guess, so we start trying to find a good fire accelerant.

Then it occurs to me: Ive got black powder on me! Brilliant!

So, we dump a couple of cartridges worth of black powder on the paper in the hopes that the intense flame will dry it enough to allow it to burn.

And then we start flicking matches at the accumulated black powder in the newspaper...and flicking...and flicking...until:

WOOOOOOOOSH!

It started the fire. BUt sadly, it also singed all the hair on my hands, my eyebrows and my hair in front had all these ashy looking burnt ends.

NOT one of my more stellar moments in film history.

Cheers (and Merry Christmas...erm....Happy Christmas to you all!)
Sean
( Citadel Because the world needs less morons, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 16:33, 2 replies)

When I was 4
My mum took me to the school at which she was teaching for a day. She left me in the capable hands of 4 year 6 girls who showed me around the school and we generally had a good time.
When I got home from my exciting day out I went on my climbing frame to explore and generally complete my perfect day.
What I thought I'd do was to practice a new word which these girls had taught me which is how we arrive at me hollering at the top of my lungs the word "CONDOM!, CONDOM!" from the peak of the climbing frame until mother had to run out and snatch me from my post.
(Evilweevil is covered in bees, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 16:22, Reply)

familiarity breeds contempt
Several years ago i was a film planner in a printworks, before macs took off in a big way. This involved sticking various films onto a sheet of acetate and slicing the overlaps with a scalpel. This all had to be done with absolute precision, so i would regularly change the scalpel blade, several times a day. I reckon i held a scalpel more hours a day than a surgeon.

Did i slip while swapping a blade......nope.

Did i ever put my thumb end slightly past the metal ruler and slice the top few mm clean off.....er, yes, a few times.

Did i ever get an itchy nose and forgetfully just rub it the once......while holding the scalpel..... Holy shit!!! You have no idea just how much blood pours out if you slice your right nostril in two.
(turtles head is touching cloth poked a dwarf on the forehead at, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 16:11, 1 reply)

Superfast pope impression
When I was 10-11, my most prized possession was my Grifter bike, they were big bastards, and seemed near indestructible. It's one minor flaw was a dodgy high gear, that at a certain time would completely lose its effect on the rear wheel and the chain would go slack. I knew about this and steered clear of the high gear, except when trying to win a race.

So there I am in mid gear, leading the pack, weaving up and down the kerb stones, when in a foolish move I try to truly trounce my competition and go into high gear and also pedal standing. Basically I was aiming for my own land speed record.

After I'd gained a fairly hefty lead and the finish dustbin was in sight, I planned to execute a spectacular kerb corner to road leap.

Then, with my weight pushing on a downward turn the pedal goes slack, and I suddenly find myself plummeting towards the kerb, fast. The moment of impact is wiped from my memory, but the aftermath involved the oddest feeling of rushing liquid in my head, before a veritable fountain of blood began gushing everywhere from my nose.

The total cost: a broken nose, one missing tooth, a few wobbly ones, road rash across my face and up both arms, and many cuts and bruises elsewhere.

When I eventually got home, I was met by the standard mum response, "What the hell have you done to yourself this time ?"

Apologies for length, but the grifter was huge
(ShiftyBastard won the World Cup on World Soccer Champs 2010!, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 16:09, 2 replies)

Rats
Around the age of 13 I had a pet black rat called Buster. For a rodent he was quite intelligent and fearless – seeing off the cat and generally being quite amusing. The first thing I would do after getting back from school would be to open up the cage and put him on my shoulder where he would stay until bed time, occasionally fossicking around in my jumper or having a brief scrabble through my hair (not that I had any fleas mind). He and I were inseparable.

One weekend required a quick visit to the loo upstairs for a tinkle. The splashing noise must have caused Buster to want to investigate so he poked his little rat face out from the bottom of my top and upon spying the ‘snake’ (more of a worm at the time really) he sank his fangs in.

Having a black rat dangling from your todger until you manage to prise its jaws open is one thing. Having your parents hear your screams and make you wash your bloody member with dettol in the bath is another. It kept them and their friends amused at dinner parties for years, came up at my 21st, and is still used by my brother in public if I take the piss too much.

I was never really angry with the little chap as he probably thought he was protecting his master from the noisy serpent. He eventually copped it after getting into a fight with a dachshund.
(plantboy, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 16:03, 1 reply)