Ah, ironing board surfing
When I was at university in the early 1990s, most off-campus students lived in pretty much identical houses, where the staircase was perfectly aligned with the front door. One of my friends lived in such a house, and threw pretty great parties, one of which had half the mountain bike club in attendance. After much refreshment had been imbibed, somebody thought it would be a great idea to ride one housemate's bike down the stairs and into the street, which the mountain bikers all did with great aplomb. My mate (not a mountain biker) then attempted to do the same, but made the mistake of hitting the brake near the bottom, causing him to fly over the handlebars and headbutt the radiator next to the front door. He wasn't badly damaged, but the bike was locked away, fearing for its safety.

This irked me slightly, as it was my turn next, so, not wanting to miss out, I poked around in cupboards until I found what I thought was an adequate substitute - the ironing board. I gracefully launched myself from the top of the stairs, flying down them like a pro, but when the nose hit the floor at the bottom, instead of sliding forwards it "dug in" momentarily, throwing me forwards, and my back foot must have forced the legs to telescope upwards, as I ended up ripping my shirt to bits *and* somersaulting myself out of the front door onto the tarmac. Happy days.
(Vice Admiral Sir Charles Cockbrush KCB MBE DSO, who is finding it increasingly difficult to log into b3ta.com wants to duck your aunt and kick your puppy, Wed 27 Jan 2010, 10:31, Reply)