Rather young
When I was rather young, I finally discovered the magic art of self snake charming, with such enjoyment that I believed it to be such a great taboo that it was OBVIOUSLY detectable by my parents that I'd been doing it. I therefore decided that OBVIOUSLY my mother who emptied the bin in my bedroom would notice the used tissues (despite the fact that it was always fill up anyway due to bad sinuses) and would notice if I went to the loo in the night to flush them (yeah, 'cos that's weird, right?), so devised many methods, including hiding them somewhere till the morning and quickly flushing them come daylight.

That became dangerous as I would reguarly forget and find them many days later, and worry that one day my mother might find out my horrific secret!

I eventually opted for.... throwing them out the window, hoping the wind would carry them. Problem is, I had a rather large garden stretching out from both windows, and to make matters worse, they were fenced quite highly. So... the tissues never went far. My mum would reguarly walk the dog early in the morning, and I thought I was doing fine, till about a month on...


"Finest, can you PLEASE stop throwing tissues out of your window every night?"

The shame.
( FinestLittleSpace, Mon 28 Nov 2005, 15:17, Reply)

good at vomiting
1) Big party, very young (14), boy gets me totally wasted on cider, I throw up EVERYWHERE, pass out in the corner, wake up with his tongue down my throat to the dulcet tones of "boom boom, shake the room" by jazzy jeff and the fresh prince.
2) Amsterdam. I can't even smoke tobacco, let alone anything more 'creative' (just not built for it. you'll see why). I also can't stand Indonesian food (or rather the Dutch version of it). If i do both, you will have this: projectile vomiting over the dining room tables in the Stedelijk Museum at lunchtime.
3) Party, aged 16. Get there early. Another girl spikes my red wine with Archers. I passed out half an hour later, and wake up in vomit. In the lounge. With all the 'cool' people.

I have grown up now. Instead, recent shame includes:
Doing naughty things in the park during sunny weekend, dog comes bounding up to our hideaway, closely and inconveniently followed by owners and child.

To be honest, I was always the sensible one amongst my friends. I have since learned it's better to regret the things you've done than those you never even tried.

However, doesn't always work like that - cooking a gournet dinner on holiday for friends, my godfather decided when picking juniper berries it was easier just to pick those that had fallen on the ground and wash them. He'd eaten a couple in front of guests before realising they were rabbit droppings.
(niceandwarmandhot vive la résistance, Mon 28 Nov 2005, 15:17, Reply)

What a waste
It's a shame that reading all of these tales of (near) underage sex, narcotics, drunken mishaps and pure filth, hasn't inspired me to write my own story of shame.

I can't work out whether this is because I've always been 'the sensible one' and therefore haven't ever really let myself go in the same way as many on here, or that I'm just not a complete cunt, like many on here.

Either way, I feel that it's a shame that I haven't ever really suffered from much shame, if you know what I mean?

You don't? Oh, sorry.
(Waddo, Mon 28 Nov 2005, 15:01, Reply)

Broken
Earlier this year a good lady friend of mine had completed her 3 year stint in old blighty, and was moving back to sunny Oz.

So being good friends we proceeded to show here a good time at a local restaurant, drinking copious amounts of wine.

It was snowy/wet outside and walking home we decided to have a piggy back race. My friend jumped on my sturdy shoulders and was riding me home like Seabass.

Problem was that I was wearing very slippery leather soled shoes. So inevitabley we come crashing down in front of another very busy rest. So I laid there laughing, then as I was picking myself up I noticed that my friend - seemed to be in a considerable amount of pain.

Turns out I broke her ankle, and dislocated several toes. The next day she did 2 major things. Sat in a hospital for her last day in London, and secondly caught a 30 hour flight back to Sydney with an ever expanding and painful foot.

Till this day I still feel the shame.
(Slatts If you cant remember it didnt happen, Mon 28 Nov 2005, 14:57, Reply)

Mistaken Identity
So a few years ago, Im sitting in a pub having a few bevvies with some of the guys I played rugby with.
Suddenly 2 hands reach across my face and cover my eyes with the dreaded "Guess who it is!!". All of a sudden my mind goes as blank as an A4 sheet of paper. I can recall the voice but cant place the name.

...An uncomfortable couple of seconds roll by...

In my drunken and horny state, I blurt out a girls name that I had been shagging.

It turns out to be my girlfriend at the time. SHAME.
(Slatts If you cant remember it didnt happen, Mon 28 Nov 2005, 14:34, Reply)

Tramp
A tramp asked me for some small change - sorry i dont have any. If only he had asked me for fifty quid i would of given him that - the shame....
(The_artist_formally_known_as_alz0r, Mon 28 Nov 2005, 14:10, Reply)

Glad I'm not the only one.
Pink Mongoose is also a member of the "Portsmouth Beach Club".

*Hides*
( Sylia Stingray is pilfering the biscuits on, Mon 28 Nov 2005, 14:00, Reply)

At the Zoo
Ok so I'm at this zoo up north in the lake district, having a lovely day with my girlfriend.
As the afternoon wears on we wander down to the penguin enclosure.
Walking down the long wide path I see a group of 16-28(ish) year olds all acting the fools and walking funny.
I turned to my girlfriend and said quite loudly "Oh no! Who let the retards in!"...

As a few turned round I realised they were in fact actual retards...

Oh the shame.
(Capt_Carl, Mon 28 Nov 2005, 13:57, Reply)

Both feet in it
One of my first jobs after leaving Uni was an open-ended contract for a large property development company. I was meant to be involved in redesigning various back-office systems ("business process re-engineering" – how shameful is that?) and the subsequent staff training.

The job actually involved taking the female administrative staff out for boozy lunches and dinners, picking their brains, telling them how impressed the company's MD would be when I informed him how important their contribution was and emphasising how much that would help their careers; and then using their ideas. I did no real work, I got paid a fortune and I got loads of drunken gratitude-shags for giving the office girls a few crumbs of credit for their own ideas and hard work.

Once I'd managed to sort out the head office - ie sorting-out 3* of the girls working there (concurrently but not simultaneously) whilst two of them did all my work for me - I was meant to implement the same system at some of the regional offices.

Unfortunately, the office administrator at the first regional office I visited was a hideous, fat monster. You know how some fat girls are pretty underneath? You know how some fat and/or ugly girls look better after a few drinks? Not Anne. So I was faced with the prospect of doing some actual work myself.

Anyway, a week later I got back to head-office and a fax came through from her, thanking me profusely for all the hard work I’d done and gushing about how well the new systems were working. One of my colleagues picked the fax up, read it and laughed and started teasing me that I must’ve shagged her.

Of course, I denied it vociferously: “No way, I can tell you’ve never met Anne, I wouldn’t touch her with yours, she’s the most hideous fucking troll I’ve ever met in my life, there isn’t enough beer in the world to make her shaggable. I’d rather dig up my granny.” Etc.

Unfortunately, my remarks were overheard by one of the salesmen, who came up and said, “You do realise you’re talking about my fiancée?”

It still makes me retch just thinking about Anne. The rolls of fat around her stomach and thighs were actually hard. When I whispered to her that being with her made me think of hot, sensual nights of passion in Venice, the city of love, I actually meant it – she smelled like Venice at the height of summer and her cunt was like the Grand Canal (my story's title refers to this point rather than my overheard remarks above).

After porking** Anne 4 times in one night, the next day I met her assistant Denise who was cute, had enormous tits and developed a massive crush on me. Unfortunately, Anne made it perfectly clear to me if I laid a finger on Denise, she’d drop me in it. I spent a whole week fucking Fat Anne and fending off this cute chick who all but dry-humped my leg in the office.

Now that really was a shame!

* The third was a bonus – a dumb Italian receptionist who thought the more blowjobs she gave me, the higher she’d be promoted! She’d have been MD after a week, especially after she’d crawled under my desk to suck me off about 15 minutes after I’d spent my lunch hour fucking her best friend up the arse.

** I’d never understood how appropriate that euphemism could be until I met Anne.
(SpittyWoonerism, Mon 28 Nov 2005, 13:30, Reply)

MRI Scan
Took my 11 year old son for an MRI scan on his injured knee - he was offered headphones to listen to music during the scan and the pretty nurse asked him what he wanted to listen to. "Dildo" he says. "I think you mean Dido" said she, not batting an eyelid. "That's my boy" I thought.
(SiTrMo, Mon 28 Nov 2005, 13:22, Reply)

How embarrasing...
ended up in Lush and Bliss on Saturday night in Southsea.




That place makes Scandals look elegant.
(Oops....did I say that out loud cos I really bloody want to., Mon 28 Nov 2005, 12:59, Reply)

The Sun
If you read The Sun on Friday 25th November 2005 you would have seen page 19, with the headlines :"Booziness As Usual". well i am the drunk whos picture takes up halve the page!

img506.imageshack.us/img506/8274/n00100gc.jpg

all my family and friends have now labelled me a useless drunk, and i feel the shame! anyway im famous!

length? what length?
Dani B
(dani_B Bollocks, Mon 28 Nov 2005, 11:40, Reply)

So many,,,
Here's two to start with.

Went out clubbing many moons ago, and before I knew it, I was mashed up on alcohol and as many other *ahem* substances I could get my hands on, beyond all belief.

On the way home in the taxi, at 5am, I though it would be a good idea to call in on a friend.

I got the cabbie to drop me off, and climbed up onto the balcony so as not to wake everyone else in the house. I tapped on the window. No reply. Knocked - still no reply. So I started banging really hard, shouting 'OY! FUCKING WAKE UP!'.

Just then, the curtains seperated a bit, and a completely petrified female face appeared not 6 inches from mine - a face I had never seen before in my life.

Wrong balcony, wrong house, not even the right street.

Which reminds me of another quick, simple but effective one..

I was a regular at a nightclub a few years back, and there was always someone there who I knew. I got in, went to the bar, and saw a friend standing chatting to a group of people, with his back to me. I ran up behind him, hooked my arm round his neck, and went 'Waaaaaaay!!' while grappling violently but jokily with his head. It was only then that I realised he was a complete stranger. God. I still break into a cold sweat thinking of that one, and it was 10 years ago.
(8-Ball, Mon 28 Nov 2005, 11:36, Reply)

Famous names
Whilst at school in the 80's - first week at new school, I sat down for lunch in our dinner hall next to a quite stocky kid who was obviously looking for a scrap.

He asked me what my name was, so (this being the 80's) picked the first famous name that popped into my head and said "David Bailey".
The boy got quite upset at this and became a bit aggressive.
He then said, "Tell me your REAL name" in a menacing type of way, so again, picked the next famous person I could think of and said "Steve Davis".
He got very upset by this and ran off.
It turns out that his brothers name was David Bailey and was in hospital after being stabbed by someone called Steve Davis.

What are the odds?

Still he seemed like a twat, so I'm not that ashamed, although I was at the time.
(dchurch bah, Mon 28 Nov 2005, 11:22, Reply)

For those unfamiliar with Fridays at Strathclyde Uni
TFI: Britain's longest running student night and probably the most debauched. The door bears big slogans advising people to stay away of offended easily as a kind of disclaimer, such is the volume of complaints received.

So on friday i pitched up for a (one) pint and some decent rock and roll tunes before heading home to study. 3 bottles of wine, some champagne and free cider later i have done the following...

1) Been wedgied so hard that my underwear has torn up the seat, so i remove it in the bar and force over the head of nearest lady.

2) rub my bare arse cheeks on a friend's face as she rummaged in her bag to get her phone

3) Ripped posters off the wall and fashioned some sort of paper skirt thing

4) Fallen off a table onto some girl in what amounts to an elbow drop

5) The HeliCockter. For those unfamiliar it involves swinging one's member about while singing the theme to Airwolf

6) Had my jeans nicked by an equally pissed mate

7) Moved pub. Got cock out again.

8) Paid taxi in 10p's. Fare was about £13.


All of the above (except number 8) was done in full view of virtually my entire course. It's monday now, and everyone remembers. I want to die.
(Rushy, Mon 28 Nov 2005, 11:20, Reply)

Once my mates caught me shagging an 11 year old kid...
But it's ok. Goats reach sexual maturity before 11.
(Mr_Jums, Mon 28 Nov 2005, 11:07, Reply)

this happened not so long ago
I was being a right little booze-hound with my mates a few weekends ago, I'd taken a week worth of kebab money and spent it on a train fare home to go on the lash with them for a mate's birthday.

After lots of the boozing we got to our final destination, a nouveau straight lined rock/indie/alt club, and that's when I see her, a perfectly proportioned girl who only reached my elbow's (I'm 6' which would make her about 3'10ish), I know for a fact one of my friend's is horrifically afraid of small people, cue me scheming. My plan was to pull her and dangle her over my mate's bed in the morning...

I managed to get her interested in me, and she got up on the stage so she could reach me to kiss me, when she dipped in drunken logic stepped in and my mind screamed "FUCKING HELL SHE'S 12" I ran away screaming, literally screaming according to several less pissed mates.

Now I'm pleased to tell you she wasn't twelve as everyone at the door is ID'd however I'm not pleased to tell you the shame I feel for probably ruining the tiny girl's evening

still if she's gonna get herself interested in me, she really is selling herself short
( GrandmaOfShoes, Mon 28 Nov 2005, 10:55, Reply)

I once sang
Leo Sayer's 'How Much Love' whilst walking home through a red light district.

Needless to say, I was arrested for soliciting.
(mittymutu, Mon 28 Nov 2005, 10:44, Reply)

head banging...
A while back I fancied this goth girl and we went off to a club together. For whatever reason I was going commando that night, though I forgot it at the time.

Anyway, after several pints we were moshing, and in the excietment/jumping around, my fly opened. Imagine my horror when I looked downwards to see junior doind a bit of head-banging of his own - the strobe light effect was classic...

Needless to say that I never saw her again...
(murungu, Mon 28 Nov 2005, 10:37, Reply)

At a work party
I put WAY too much effort into trying to pull this bird from finance who was basically “rough as"



and I still failed!


*cringe*
(Minty Hit, Mon 28 Nov 2005, 10:12, Reply)

A couple of weeks ago
I got up for work at some hellish time, probably about 4:15 or something, after a successful early evening session in the pub. After getting out of the shower I went straight to the kitchen to get some toast on the go. As I replaced the bread in the cupboard I coughed and farted, the kind of fart that makes an alarming wet noise, so wet in fact that the results were on the kitchen floor. A nice brown puddle of beery poo. It sat there until I came home from work some ten hours later, I couldn't face that kind of cleaning at that time of day. Slightly shameful I suppose.
(bogus official shove it up your cunt, Mon 28 Nov 2005, 10:04, Reply)

Thorry
Just last night I was out with a few friends and an ex-girlfriend who has quite a pronounced lisp. After a few beers one of our mates fancied something different. She likes cider and there were adverts everywhere for some new type the pub had just got in so she asked the ex to get her one of those.

A couple of minutes later she came back with the drinks and, laughing, called the mate a total bitch. She looked shocked, having no idea what she'd done. The ex had gone to the bar, got the name of the drink off one of the signs and tried to ask for a Strongbow Cirrus Smooth Cider. After four failed attempts at making the barmaid understand what Thtrongbow Thirruth Thmooth Thider was she just pointed at the sign and shouted "ONE OF THEM!".

You could have made toast on the burning face of the mate as she muttered apologies.
( Gleeballs is mostly made out of chocolate and hate., Mon 28 Nov 2005, 8:52, Reply)

Missed My Cue
During my final year at Primary School, I was in the school play, which was some skit on the French Revolution written by the headmaster.

The Lead role went to a complete twat, and I was given a more minor role, not that I was hugely disappointed, he was older and I guess it was his turn to shine.

Anyway, as term went on, he became ill and with 2 weeks to go before the performance, he took time off school. The Headmaster offered me the role as a stand-in, and I had to learn about 20 pages of lines by heart in the fortnight. He tested me 2 days before the performance and I was word perfect (in those days I took pride in the things I did and did them well... now I do them as quickly as I can to avoid any real effort being expended).

Anyway, the first of 2 performance nights arrives and the lead manages to get off his sick bed and come in to screw up the performance with his flat monotonous voice and lacklustre performance.

At the end of the night, the headmaster gets up and addresses the crowd of parents, telling them what a hard task it was to get the kids to learn all this in a short time yadda yadda yadda. He then says "And of course some people had a little extra effort to offer" and for some reason I decided this would be a good minute to stand up assumedly to accept some sort of rapturous applause..

Everyone looked at me quizzicly, my parents knew, and were proud. I realised in that split second that I looked like a prat and promptly sat down.

Now there was no laughing, or pointing of fingers at me, no-one remembered it after that moment, but for some reason for years afterwards I felt bucketloads of cringing shame for that moment.
(LunarJim, Mon 28 Nov 2005, 8:27, Reply)

Scary Monsters
One Hallween season oh-so-many years ago I attacked a "monster" in a maze by throwing dirt at his face (I hate being surprised and scared). I can even recall saying "Protect yourselves, grab some sand!" to my friends very loudly just before I did it. My friends and I were accosted by security the second we got out of the maze, and as they talked to us I was frantically wiping my dirty, dirty hands in my jacket pockets a la Harry Potter. Naturally we (I) denied everything and amazingly enough two people who were behind us spoke in our (my) defense. That couple saved us from being thrown out/banned/sued from the park, but I've felt ashamed of my action to this very day...

PS: Fishy Queen, you wouldn't happen to live in Cerritos would you?
(Kitsune-chan I'm not a bunny I'm a grownup girl, Mon 28 Nov 2005, 5:04, Reply)

The boyfriend
and I had gone to the opening of the brand new sparkly city library, which had been greatly hyped during the six years it had taken to build the damn thing. Particularly impressive was the children's section, complete with a wall-to-wall aquarium, life size cast of a t-rex skeleton, and columns made to look like stacks of alphabet building blocks that tiny children play with. My boyfriend, while very intelligent, lacks a verbal filter. He pointed a column across the room and read the letters.

"A...B...F?! WHAT kind of A FUCKING RETARD gets that wrong?!"

At which point I was forced to grab my boyfriend by the wrist and lead him out the building as he protested. You see, he had failed to notice the preschool-aged boy with Down syndrome accompanied by his scandalized-looking grandmother standing directly in front of that particular column.
(Fishy_Queen, Mon 28 Nov 2005, 4:47, Reply)

DIEt.
I had taken a job at a coffee shop, and thusly found myself with an innocent crush on my Chris Martin lookalike supervisor (innocent, as I already had a John Cho lookalike boyfriend).

Erring to the side of rotund, I found myself very self-conscious about joining my coworkers in snacking on the sweets that are very abundant in a coffee shop, even though I was dying to (I would wait until the end of my shift and sneak things out). One day, the aforementioned supervisor asked me why I never joined in the collective nosh, and I quickly lied and said that I was diabetic. The response worked better than I thought, as not only did it create sympathy, it was also an implied justification of my huge ass. I started bringing salad to work with me every day to eat under the admiring eye of my supervisor, who praised me from time to time for my bravery in dealing with a difficult disease while the others stuffed their faces.

So one day we had this gigantic chocolate cake of madness at the store, and I had forgotten my salad, and was STARVING. I had decided to coordinate my break with when my favorite supervisor was leaving so I could sit in the back room and indulge myself. Six hours into my shift, the time came, and I was so famished that I couldn't even be bothered to get a fork and plate: I just shoved the fucking thing in my face, figuring that I could just wash up before returning to the floor, when I heard the most terrifying words ever.

"Hey, I fucking forgot my coat."

I whipped around in shock to see that a.) my supervisor had returned, and b.) my reflection in the giant back of room fridge, revealing that I had chocolate smeared all over my face.

He found the whole situation to be hilarious, but I was never able to look him in the eye again. Ah, well, it's what I get for being a fatty with a wandering eye.
(Fishy_Queen, Mon 28 Nov 2005, 4:31, Reply)

Brings back
memories of an old friend I used to have. We were both 11 or 12 at the time and he had come over after school to listen to music or what not. I left my room for 10 minutes to go do some chore or something. I return and spy something brown under my bed. I look closer and its piece of poo. I ask my mate about it and he says oh looks like rat poo. I'm thinkin shit now I'm sleepin with rats. He leaves a little while later and I inform my mother about how I now sleep with rats. My mom then informs me that the basterds mother had warned my mom that this mate of mine no longer shit in toilets. He shit and then hid it in odd places. Like under beds. I thought it was a little large to be a rats.
(If your not a manc your a wank, Mon 28 Nov 2005, 1:47, Reply)

Once while out
At the pub, me and a few friends had had a fair amount of drink. we were going clubbing afterwards but me being so cheap didnt want to pay for a taxi to the club, so we got the bus instead. now the thing about buses are they don't always take the most direct route and having a good few pints in me made me need the toilet rather urgently.
fortunatly we were sitting at the back but people started to notice my squirming. they then started making waterfall sounds and telling me to think about dripping taps etc. the cunts. a few mins later i thought i was actually going to die from the pain of holding in this piss. all the people on the bus weren't paying attention anymore and i spied an empty bottle! unfortunatly it was one of the really small ones but i thought this would be ample for emptying my bladder. so heres me on a bus dick out trying to get it in the top of a bottle and piss. some piss spilled which was a shame but some girl noticed and shouted 'what on earth is he doing?!?' to which my mate replied 'oh he's having a piss'. fortunatly no-one could see.
the bottle began to fill rapidly and so i had to try and cork it which i did but spilling some more piss onto my jeans.
the bus finally got to the station and i ran out in front of everybody and let the remaining piss drain into a bush.

i am proud of all my embarasing moments except that one!
(rosstheboss, Mon 28 Nov 2005, 1:02, Reply)