Let's hear some funny real-life stories

[WSUCougar]

Okay…what with Iraq, the resultant flame-wars, Eminem winning an Oscar, the Hattrick plague (just kidding!), etc., it’s become FAR too serious around here lately.

It’s time for some funny real-life stories.

Let’s have some laughs. Post something funny that really happened to you. Don’t make stuff up – I want to hear some real-life yuks. It doesn’t have to be award-winning material. Anything will do. Throw it out there.

Here’s one to start:

When my wife and I lived on the Outer Banks of North Carolina, we had a house that backed on the Atlantic Ocean (yeah, it was rough I know). About the only problem with the house was it was very buggy, to the point where we were coping with some creepy-crawly thing almost every day. Well, one afternoon, my wife summoned me to bug duty – she’d seen “something big” go under the door of the hall closet. So I get the flashlight, and go into the hall closet (which was relatively dark). I’m not eager to find this “big” sucker, but a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. Just as I’m bending over to peer below the bottom shelf, with my wife looking anxiously from behind me…FOOM! FOOM! A military jet from Oceana NAS goes by and lays a sonic boom on us!

Well, my friends, let me tell you…I don’t know how far my wife jumped, but I got some good air. We both yelped in mid-air. Then we had a good chuckle at ourselves…

…and a grass-hopper emerged moments later.

[Ksyrup]

Since you brought up bugs, my family still laughs about the time my aunt, who was living in Brownsville at the time, came to visit us in Michigan. I was about 8 or 9 and my brother 5.

One day, my aunt casually calls out to us from the bathroom that there was a spider in the bathroom and could one of us come and kill it. So I head up to the bathroom (on the 2nd floor) expecting to see a daddy long legs or something that can easily be squished. She tells me that it crawled behind the shower curtain, so I throw it back to find the sucker. Turns out the f**ker had a body that was about 3 inches in diameter. And man, was it hairy. I immediately screamed like a little school girl, and when my brother, who was standing behind me, saw the thing, he ran screaming down the stairs. He happened to be holding an open bottle of Coke. And we had white carpet. Not fun for my mom.

So we call in reinforcements and my dad shows up. None of us wanted to squish it, because it would have made a hella mess, and none of us wanted to touch it, just because. So we used an entire bottle of raid, a few squirts of windex, and I even sprinkled some comet on the bastard - basically anything that we could find under the bathroom sink - to kill it.

My aunt was surprised throughout the whole ordeal, as apparently spiders that size were relatively common in Brownsville. We think it actually made the trip with her in one of her bags, because she had just opened a bag in the bathroom when she saw the thing.

If that didn't make you laugh, well... I guess you just had to be there!

[WSUCougar]

Don't worry, it made me laugh. I particularly liked the line "and I even sprinkled some comet on the bastard."

Good stuff.

[primelord]

One of the more humbling experiences in my life was playing baseball in high school. It was the first game of the season and I came up for my first at bat. The picther threw me a low inside fastball that I turned on and crushed. I knew it was gone. So I decided I was going to walk down the first baseline and admire my titanic home run. CLANG! The ball hits about halfway up the outfield wall. Realizing what giant jackass I was turned on the jets and ended up sliding safely into third.

So there I was thinking I made a major ass of myself, but atleast I got a triple out of it. Ah if only that were the case. It seems in my haste to make it to third I forgot to touch second base. The opposing team appealed and I was called out. Jackass indeed.

You would have thought I had learned my lesson, but I was determined to redeem myself. So in the bottom of that inning with two outs and a guy on second a lazy fly ball was hit out to me in left. I camped under it ready to snag the final out of the inning when I thought occured to me. I should add a little flash to this catch to make up for my bone head play earlier. So as the ball is coming in I take a huge sweeping grab at it and knocked the damn ball across the outfield. Our CF who assumed I would make the routine catch had already been running towards the dugout and was in no position to get to the ball. By the time I got to it and threw it back in both runs had scored.

Needless to say I saw ALOT of the bench over the next few weeks. :)

[JeeberD]

My mom and I found a turantula crawling down our wall once when we were living in El Paso. We lived on the edge of a big patch of desert and were used to seeing lots of wildlife, but it was very strange to be watching TV and then all of a sudden see this huge spider crawling down the wall. We grabbed an empty coffee can, caught it in there, and released it back into the desert. Never saw it again.

We also always used to get scorpions in the house. I can't tell you how many times my sister and brother got stung. Not me though. The closest I ever got to being stung was nearly picking up a Vinageroon at night (I thought it was a rock) and getting sprayed by its vinagery spray...

[korme]

this deserves a bump

[Travis]

Oh Prime, oh man, reading your story brings back so many practise field memories, I never would have had the balls to try and make a catch like that during a game ;)

Shall we call you Rickeylord Henderson?

[Airhog]

One time Me and my gf were having sex. Well right as I orgasmed, I let out this giant stinky fart. We still laught over that one...

[kid_dynamite]

when i was about 7 years old i was climbing up one of those metal poles in the basement that are for support. well i got about half way up and i decided to put my feet together on the pole i pushed my butt out making a kinda triangle dealy with my body...here is a little picture, not to scale...<I

well my feet slipped from the pole and i came sliding in with a leg on each side of the pole and got quite a shot to the pills. funny to look back on now but it wasnt that funny then.

[Swaggs]

Airhog, that sounds like a Mallrats story. :)

[korme]

my cousin Walter jerked off in public once. True story. He was on a plane to new mexico, when all of a sudden the hydraulics went. The plane started spinning around, going out of control. So he decides it's all over and whips it out and starts beating it right there. So all the other passengers take a cue from him and they start beating like mad. So all the passengers are beating off, plummeting to their certain doom, when all the sudden, the hydraulics kick back in and the plane rights itself. It lands safely. And everyone puts their pieces or whatever away and deboard. And nobody mentions the phenomenon to anyone else.

[astralhaze]

Careful not to step in the bullshit.

[WSUCougar]

Here's another true story. You Dads out there may especially appreciate this.

Sleep-deprived and otherwise at the end of our tethers as new parents, my wife and I were preparing to again diaper our infant son in the middle of the night. We had our table lamp on, but it was not providing enough light, so my wife points to the wall switch for the overhead light and says:

"I flop."

She then gave me a puzzled expression, and I must have looked at her like she'd lost her mind, and then we both just burst out laughing. To this day she has no idea why it came out that way.

[Airhog]

Originally posted by astralhaze
Careful not to step in the bullshit.

I hope your not referring to my story, cause it was true...

[MrBug708]

When I was 5, I cut off my sisters finger inadvertantly. She was chasing me and she decided that it would be smart to stick her finger in the door jam as I slammed the door. Needless to say, her tip was reattached. Its gonna suck when she gets married cuz it was her ring finger.


Oh well

[korme]

I know a kid who cut his finger tip off when he was like 3. It's cool, I like it.

[astralhaze]

Originally posted by Airhog
I hope your not referring to my story, cause it was true...

Nope, Shortys. Unless that happened to multiple people, it is an urban legend.

[korme]

It's from Mallrats. Sorry for the threadjack. Swaggs mentioned the movie, blame him.

[astralhaze]

ahhhhh....new it sounded familiar :D

[Easy Mac]

One time my cousin Walter got this cat stuck up his ass, true story, he bought it at our local mall so the whole fiasco wound up on the news. It was embarrassing for my relatives and all but the next week he did again, a different cat, same results, complete with another trip to the emergency room. So I run into him a week later in the mall and he's buying another cat. So I say to him, 'Jesus, Walt what are you doing? You know you're just going to get this cat stuck up your ass.' And he said to me, 'Easy Mac? How else am I going to get the gerbil out?' My cousin was a weird guy.

[Easy Mac]

seriously though, not sure if this is a funny story, but we'll see.

I'm playing baseball, its whatever league your in when you're 14. We're playing the top team, with the top 2 home run hitters. I strike out the first one on nothing but fastballs. The next guy comes up and yells he's hitting a home run, and for me to try to blow it past him. I try, and he smacks the fuck out of it, it had to go at least 400 feet, easily a home run. But the ump calls it foul... I praise god. So I throw a curve on the next pitch, he smacks the fuck out of it, but he hit the fence for a triple. He said I got lucky, and he's hitting a home run the next time.

His friend comes up again, and I strike him out again. So the guy comes up again, and points. First pitch is low and away, and he golfs the hell out of it. This went even farther than the first "home run", but this is to dead center.

Once again, I strike out his friend, and the guy comes up again. Sure enough, first pitch is a curve, knocks another home run. As he rounds the bases, I tell him I'll strike him and his friend out the rest of the game.

I strike out his friend, and then get the count to 0-2 on the guy. Next pitch is an outside curve, and he hits an opposite field home run... maybe not funny, unless you like to laugh at my misfortune and horrible pitching.

God I miss playing real sports, not this intramural shit.

[McSweeny]

Originally posted by Easy Mac
seriously though, not sure if this is a funny story, but we'll see.

I'm playing baseball, its whatever league your in when you're 14. We're playing the top team, with the top 2 home run hitters. I strike out the first one on nothing but fastballs. The next guy comes up and yells he's hitting a home run, and for me to try to blow it past him. I try, and he smacks the fuck out of it, it had to go at least 400 feet, easily a home run. But the ump calls it foul... I praise god. So I throw a curve on the next pitch, he smacks the fuck out of it, but he hit the fence for a triple. He said I got lucky, and he's hitting a home run the next time.

His friend comes up again, and I strike him out again. So the guy comes up again, and points. First pitch is low and away, and he golfs the hell out of it. This went even farther than the first "home run", but this is to dead center.

Once again, I strike out his friend, and the guy comes up again. Sure enough, first pitch is a curve, knocks another home run. As he rounds the bases, I tell him I'll strike him and his friend out the rest of the game.

I strike out his friend, and then get the count to 0-2 on the guy. Next pitch is an outside curve, and he hits an opposite field home run... maybe not funny, unless you like to laugh at my misfortune and horrible pitching.

God I miss playing real sports, not this intramural shit.

I once gave up 6 homeruns(including 2 grandslams) in a JV game...

[AnalBumCover]

I was pitching in a pitch-to-your-own-team coed softball intramural game. I did such a good job at it that I struck out two of my own teammates. They weren't too happy about that.

Two innings later, in a separate (unrelated???) incident, another teammate smacked a line-drive....right into my face. I was knocked out for about a minute, my nose bleeding and my eyes swollen shut. I was taken to the emergency room where x-rays and MRI showed a hairline fracture down my right orbital. I returned to my friends looking like I had just survived one minute in the ring with Mike Tyson.

For 2-3 weeks, I was deathly afraid of any softballs tossed my way.

Oh yeah, and we won the game. :)

[Travis]

One year of my all too brief baseball career as a youth, I played on a rep team as well as house league. Our rep team was made up of basically the 'all-stars' of the house league, and competed against the other rep teams from around here.

As a pitcher, it was the first year I started throwing a curve and change up (so I was probably around 13 at the time). During a rep game, I had an 0-2 count on the cleanup hitter, so decided to unveil the big hook pitch, and low and behold the sucker worked. First curve I had thrown in a game, and this thing starts at the batter's head, he bails like he's about to be shot, and while he's diving the other way, it hooks in like a dream, catcher never even had to move his glove. Umpire yells out "STRIKE 3! YOU'RE OUT!" Poor kid on the ground looks back, trying to figure out what the hell just happened before going back to the bench. Needless to say, my game went downhill from there as our catcher couldn't stop laughing, and it's damned hard to concentrate on a target when it's constantly bobbing up and down.

Now for the funny part. Two days later in house league, my team plays my rep catcher's team. Fourth inning, he comes up to bat. His first AB I threw him nothing but fastballs, but during the second AB I couldn't stop myself from trying another hook. Low and behold, this one starts off straight for his head too. His eyes go wide, he starts to jump out of the way, but you could see the moment of clarity when he realizes just what's going on, and moves back in. Yeah, then the curveball decided not to curve, and he took that sucker right in the ear. Again, my game went out the window after that because I could not stop laughing. Neither could he, and it was only funny because he wasn't hurt, and I've now taken up enough of your time.

Thank you and good night.

[Vince]

Man oh man. Well, time to throw self esteem out the window, and unveil the greatest story I have ever contributed to this earth. I warn you, this could take a while.

Anyhow, to set the scene: It's Spring Break, or close enough to it, 2000. I'm a freshman in college at Santa Barbara, living in the largest Freshman dorms off campus. Two towers, 10 floors each, approximately 60 kids to a floor. I'm on the 8th Floor of the North Tower (hence the name 8 North for my basketball team, for those of you who followed our intramural playoff run). At this point, I don't have my car down south, because I didn't think I'd need it. As such, I'm getting a ride home from one of my friends heading back up to the Bay Area, but she doesn't leave until Saturday. I finish finals around Thursday, so I'm just kickin' it on Friday, waiting around. This is how it started...

Oh, and before I forget: At this point in my life, I have never drank a drop of alcohol before. Not a DROP. This is definitely a key factor to the story.

We decide as a group (a bunch of the kids on my floor) to go hiking. We go hiking, and it's a bunch of fun. Anyhow, we get to the top, around 6:00 or so, and it's starting to get dark. We decide, in a brilliant move, to jog down the trail. I, of course, with my competitive nature, decide that I need to be the first down the hill. So I'm cruising along, no problem, when I don't notice this root, and down I go. Sprained the living crap out of my ankle. So my friends get down there and help carry me to the car, because I sure as hell ain't walking on the ankle.

We drive back to the dorms, and I start looking for my Advil. I'm the kid whose mom bought me everything under the sun in Costco size packages: Economy size. As such, my Advil was passed around the floor pretty much always. Well, I can't find the Advil. At this point, I've gotten some crutches from my RA, and I'm scooting around the floor on those. I'm hobbling up and down the floor, asking people if they've seen my Advil. Enter Geoff Boyd, a rower buddy of mine who lived on the floor. "C'mere Vince, I've got a painkiller for you." So I follow him into his room.

Once there, Geoff proceeds to pour me a double-shot of Vodka. Now, I've never drank anything before, and that shot was a little daunting. But at this point, the pain is enormous, and I think, what the hell. I knock it back. (Shot Count: 2) Immediately upon finishing it, I look up at Geoff, and say "That wasn't so bad...pour me another one!" He lines it up, I knock it back, and that's two more shots of Vodka (Shot Count: 4). Geoff decides that that one wasn't so bad either, and sets me up with another one. I, brilliant as ever, go for it (Shot Count: 6). In an amazing display of intelligence, over the course of 15 minutes, I proceed to have 5 double shots of Vodka (Shot Count: 10!!!).

Well, at this point, I'm not feeling anything yet, so my roommate, John S. (also the best player on our IM Basketball team), gives me a 24 ounce beer, and I start drinking that. Geoff and company set me up on his bed, and we start watching Office Space. At this point, word on the floor has gotten out that I am drinking. And since I don't drink, this is an event. Soon, everyone has poured into Geoff's room to "watch Office Space." Well, I finish the 24 ounce beer no problem, but now I'm starting to feel it. Things are a little bit blurry, the bed doesn't seem to want to sit still. It's now been about 30 minutes since I took my first shot. I put the beer can down, and ever vigilant John provides me with another. I start drinking it, but very slowly.

This is the point at which I start not remembering.

My version of events:
One moment I'm sitting on the bed (which isn't behaving, and making it difficult to sit on), the next moment, I'm standing at Geoff's sink, spitting into it.

Blink.

Now I'm being escorted out the door of Geoff's room on my crutches, and someone is giving me five, and congratulating me.

Blink.

Now I wake up in my bed in my boxers and a t-shirt, and it's 10 o'clock the next morning. I walk up the hall, groggy as hell, and everyone who sees me breaks into a HUGE shit-eating grin. What the hell?

Now, what happened in the interim is the heart of the story. I'm afraid I have to recreate this from my friends' versions, because I don't remember a damn thing.

Back to Geoff's room and Office Space...right after I started to black out, I threw up on Geoff's bed. That's why I was at the sink; I was just a little late in getting there. After they were fairly certain nothing else was coming up, they decided to escort me to my room...some of my (retarded) friends were congratulating me on getting drunk for the first time as I walked out the door. Well, they take me back to my room, hoping to put me in bed so that I'll sleep it off. But no, I'm not having any of that.

I decide I don't want to go to bed, and "escape" my captors and start running around the hall on my crutches, trying to get away from people that want to put me to bed. Apparently I did a pretty good job, because they didn't catch me for a good ten or fifteen minutes. Anyhow, to prevent any further mishaps, they decided to strip me of my pants and crutches in an effort to keep me in my room. So now I was sitting on my bed in my boxers and a t-shirt. Two of my friends, Jen and John H. (different from the Basketball player, his nickname is Baseball John), are keeping me company and out of mischief.

Now, this is where the story gets diabolical. The remainder of the story is rated NC-17, so don't say I didn't warn you. My friends, after I woke up and grilled them, explained it to me this way...

After they put me in my room, in nothing but boxers and a t-shirt, I thought it would be a good idea to be an exhibitionist. Boxers being a very miniscule protection, I was "showing off" for anyone who wanted to see. Even my friend Mike and his digital camera. The fun part of this is, at Francisco Torres, the dorm we lived at, they provided us with a high speed internet connection. When you combine a high speed internet connection, a digital camera, a very drunk Vince, and an unscrupulous neighbor, you end up with very very bad pictures on the network, which were therefore also on the internet. Needless to say, we had words the next day and the picture was removed. However, for one night, my little buddy got his 15 minutes of fame. Not fun.

Anyhow, that's the story they told me...but wait, there's more! After much debate about the story, the truth comes out. It seems that I was not voluntarily exposing myself to those who were interested in seeing. Rather, the boxers I was wearing noticably lacked a button in the front, and the way I was sitting allowed easy view for those who put a little effort in. In my drunken state, I did not notice, and none of my friends decided to tell me. Jen, however, decided to not only tell everyone else, but to show them, and thus Mike and the Digital Camera entered the picture. At some point, after a few minutes of this going down, someone decided to tell me what was going on, and we fixed it, and the show ended. However, that still was not the end of the night.

I decide that I absolutely must talk to my girlfriend. I pick up the phone, and absolutely cannot dial the number. I call for my roommate John S to dial the number for me, and I start talking. John meanwhile takes off back to his adjoining room to mine. Turns out he pulled off the greatest sneak attack on the floor...while everyone was busy paying attention to my drunk ass, he was getting it on with a girl on our floor, and I so overshadowed it that no one ever noticed. Bastard :) Anyhow, I'm now talking to my girlfriend, rather drunkenly.

Now John H and Jen come back in to check on me. I continue talking to Kristen, my girl, and things continue as normal for a little bit. John and Jen sit down, and wait for me to get off the phone. All of a sudden, in the middle of my drunken conversation, I bust out my most serious, focused thought in hours. "Kristen, I have to go. I have an important question I need to ask Jen." *click* I didn't even wait for a response from her, I just hung up on her. Heard about it for that one in the morning. Anyhow, I turn to Jen, and say "Jen, I have a serious question I need to ask you." Meanwhile, John is laughing at me, because I'm drunk and he knows it. However, I'm pretty focused and serious on this question. "John, shut the f*** up, this is serious! Now, Jen, honestly...I really want to hear your honest opinion-John, shut the hell up! Jen, really...what did you think of my penis?"

At that point they both broke down into gales of laughter at the utter ridiculousness of that question, and nothing eventful happened for the rest of the night. I passed out, and then woke up the next morning. The drive home was hell with the monster hangover I had :(

Anyhow, if you've read this far, I salute you...that was probably more out of me than anyone needed to hear. However, I've gotten over the humility of that night, and I think it's a pretty funny story, so I share it with people. It could have been worse :)

EDIT: I realize that this binge drinking is a terrible thing, and I'd like to add that I've never done anything as stupid as this again, and I would advise everyone else to similarly avoid drinking binges...it's not safe.

[Airhog]

hmm my greatest baseball moment, was during little league, with machine pitch. I was the pitcher, and this kid wacked one right at me, somehow the ball landed in my glove...


I can tell some good stories about BMX.

I went to a national in pennsylvania. One of the guys I rode with was getting a gate, and snapped his frame out of the gate. Really pissed his dad off.

One race, a state championship qualifier I think, I was racing a guy I raced week in and week out. People thought I was just as fast as him, but he usually beat me. Im out in the lead coming into the second to last turn. he tries to come up on the inside and I cut him off basically, and he hit a tire and goes over the bars. It had rained earlier in the week, and their was a big mud puddle at the bottom of the turn. Needless to say, he took a nice bath on that trip around.

[Ben E Lou]

Vince...Yes, I hung with the whole time....Wow.


OK, time for Ol' SkyDog to bear his soul...


I attended Government Schools up through 8th grade. However, beginning my freshman year in high school, I went to a Private School. I had a MAJOR growth spurt in 7th grade and was INCREDIBLY awkward as a gangly 6 foot tall, 120-pound 13-year-old. :eek: (Strangely enough, that was my final upward growth spurt. I'm still only 6 feet tall. Odd.) At any rate, by the end of my 8th grade year, I was finally starting to adjust to my new body and began to re-discover my athletic talent. So, here I am: 14 years old, had gotten my braces off in the summer beofre my freshman year, and going to a new school where no one knew of my Junior High awkwardness. I'm thinking "I am going to be a major stud in high school!"

Fast forward to the 2nd day of school. We had single-sex, all-Freshman, P.E. classes, so of course guys' PE, taught by a good Southern Head Football Coach, was ALWAYS a major testosterone-fest, no matter what we were doing, and he had let us know on Day 1 (when of course we didn't dress out) that he was going to make MEN out of us in his PE class. So, it is Day 2, first day dressed out, and freshman soon-to-be-made-men are heading outside toward the baseball field.

Well, in the summer before my freshman year, my vertical leap had gotten to the point that I was able to jump over the fence in my back yard without touching it, and I thought this to be a pretty impressive talent.

So, we're heading out to the baseball field, 1st day of PE. I'm thinking this is the chance to show all the guys in my class that this new kid is NOT someone to be trifled with athletically. Everyone is about to walk through the gate, but Young SkyDog is gonna just JUMP over that sucker.

Well, you see, there was an important bit of information that I REALLY wish I had at the time. Back yard fences are typically 4 feet high. The fence at our baseball field was 5 feet high. :eek:

You got it, sports fans, I took a few steps out ahead of everyone (because of COURSE I wanted to do it while everyone was watching...), and jumped. My back foot hit the bar at the top of the fence, and I tumbled to the ground, planting in the grass face-first, landing right on my ego in front of every single guy in my class.

So, rather than being the studly, no-braces, incredible-leaping stud that I wanted to be farmed as from the start, I had a less-than-stellar debut in front of my peers.

There you have it.

[Ksyrup]

OK, a couple more.

Since everyone's got a baseball story, I've got one, too.

In little league, I had the perfect chance to be the hero at the end of a game. Down by a run, 2 outs, with men on 2nd and 3rd, I lace a sure game-winner down the 3rd base line. I sprint for 1st, not looking at anything but staring straight ahead, sure that when I touch 1st and turn around, the guy from 2nd will be headed home with the game-winning run.

Well, do you remember that rule you learned in little league about staying in foul territory if you're on 3rd? My teammate didn't listen. Not only did he get hit with my line drive - which made him an automatic out, game over - but I nailed him in the nuts. He had an ice bag in his pants - including the next day at school - for like 24-36 hours after that game.


OK, now one with me on the receiving end...

There's this Christmas tradition, you may know it, called Secret Santa, where you leave presents on a neighbor's doorstep for the 12 nights leading up to Christmas. My mom decided we should do that for one of our neighbors, who lived 2 doors down. My brother and I took turns delivering the package, but as they caught on, it became more difficult, as their two kids essentially camped out looking for us, night after night.

So, a couple of nights before Christmas, their place is all lit up and the kids are peeking out from behind curtains and stuff. I know that when I hit the doorbell, I've got to book it. I catch them at dinner, hit the doorbell, and take off. I hear the door open as I round the house and know that I've got to keep going full-speed until I'm safe. I'm flying through their backyard at top speed, thinking only of getting as far away as fast as I can - and forgetting that the people next door to us (between our house and the Secret Santa family) have a chain link fence. I hit the damn thing at full speed and flip over it, getting my pants caught as I go over and ripping them from the zipper down past the thigh. I can hear the kids shouting at each other to keep looking, so I get up and limp/run the rest of the way - pausing to climb over the other part of the fence, btw - and make it home "safely."

So when my dad sees me, he says, "What in the hell happened to you?", and I explain what happened, and then the pain starts. Turns out I ripped more than my pants, and I've got a nice gash on my penis. Thank God I'm a white boy, 'cause I'm fortunate that it didn't get caught in the fence and ripped off with my pants!

[WSUCougar]

Ksyrup: “and I've got a nice gash on my penis.” <--- words I never want to read again


Seems like everyone has baseball stories, and they’re all eerily similar. Here’s a couple of mine.

In Little League, I was our team’s catcher and #2 pitcher. No overpowering stuff, but I consistently got the ball over the plate, which in our league was a pretty rare skill. Our team was quite good and went to the playoffs. My dad was the coach, and when he scouted our opponents from the other league, he quickly determined that we were overmatched. It was a double-elimination tournament, so he decided to more or less concede the first game by pitching me and try to win the second game with our ace (who had great stuff). In retrospect I understand what he was doing, but at the time I didn’t.

Well, these kids we played against were mutants or something. Simply animals. I pitched my regular control game, and they just feasted on it. To say I got knocked around, slammed, pounded, etc., doesn’t even cover it. It didn’t help that our defense was Bad News Bears quality. When the smoke cleared, we’d lost 24-0 and I’d pitched all but one inning of it. I cried in the dugout.

The next day I was in the local paper, with two photos: one of my delivery, and then one of me on the mound watching the hit fly overhead. The caption was “here comes the pitch…there goes the pitch” or something like that. Celebrity came at a hard price.

My other story is a short one. This team called the Hawks was our nemesis, and they this first baseman who was a real jerk. He always taunted us, and for our age he was an overdeveloped lug. Anyway, I was on first and he started his routine with me, and pissed me off so much that I really wanted to get back at him. I thought I’d do that by jumping out to my lead right in front of him. I did this a couple times, but then the third time I did it I failed to notice that he’d moved into the base bath, and I ran smack into him and KNOCKED MYSELF OUT. I was down for around 30 seconds or so. Very nice.

[MrBug708]

I only pitched two batters in my life. Not because I wasnt good or bad, just never had the speed to be a good pitched. I came in relief to pitch in one blowout game. We were losing badly. I came in with the bases loaded and I was facing a girl. Now this was no ordinary girl, this wsas a rather built girl named Illene. Well, the first pitch I threw, she smacked it to the fence. 3 runs scored and she's on third. The next batter I faced, I worked him to a 3-2 count before he hit a shot to the left fielder that he easily got and threw back in. Well, that was it. The 9 run rule was in effect.

2 batters, 3 RIS, 2 ER's and I never got a batter out. My career ERA hasta be like 1067.00

[Ksyrup]

Originally posted by WSUCougar
Ksyrup: “and I've got a nice gash on my penis.” <--- words I never want to read again.

Luckily, I can now use that in past tense. I'm happy to report that there were no lasting effects - other than to my ego.

[Ksyrup]

Originally posted by MrBug708
I only pitched two batters in my life. Not because I wasnt good or bad, just never had the speed to be a good pitched. I came in relief to pitch in one blowout game. We were losing badly. I came in with the bases loaded and I was facing a girl. Now this was no ordinary girl, this wsas a rather built girl named Illene. Well, the first pitch I threw, she smacked it to the fence. 3 runs scored and she's on third. The next batter I faced, I worked him to a 3-2 count before he hit a shot to the left fielder that he easily got and threw back in. Well, that was it. The 9 run rule was in effect.

2 batters, 3 RIS, 2 ER's and I never got a batter out. My career ERA hasta be like 1067.00

Our travelling team went up against a female pitcher one game. I was lucky enough to hit a double of off her ("I got to 2nd base!" I exclaimed when the inning was over). However, the biggest guy on our team, nicknamed Hoss (it was Georgia, whaddaya expect?), wasn't so fortunate. He swung and missed at three straight "heaters." I've never seen a redder face in my life!

[QuikSand]

Back in younger days, I went out with a few college friends (no doubt with the suport of a little "liquid courage") in search of street signs to steal. I wasn't looking for a stop sign or anything that might cause real harm - rather, wanted a sign by a nearby overpass, which read "weight limit 12 tons." I thought it would be good to hang over my dorm room bed, if you get my drift.

Well, this was fairly near a college campus, and I'm guessing that the local five-o had been through this little game before. So, the street signs in the area had been subjected to a particular twist. They were all fastened to their supports with a heavy, four-inch long bolt, which stuck out past the support rod by about two inches. They then somehow bent the end of the bolt to a nice perpendicular angle - making it practically impossible to remove the sign from the signpost. Pretty smart, actually.

Well, my friends and I (including a young lady with whom I was rather enamored at the time) were not to be outdone. I decided that I had a plan. I had with me a small bone wrench (about 4-5 inches long, cheap aluminum deal) - and decided that could do the trick. A bone wrench has a sort of cubic design on either side, with various size apertures to try to fit various nut and bolt size. So, I figured it out - I could stick one end of the bone wrench around the end of the bent bolt, and I would use it as a lever to straighten it out. Genius. She was impressed. (Should have been a sign right there)

So, I'm up on two friends' shoulders (the sign was pretty tall, I guess) and I have the bone wrench in position, around the end of the bolt. The bolt and wrench are now pointed downward, so I need to bend then upward. After a few simple tries, this isn't as easy as I had thought and hoped. I need more force. So, I decide that the most force I can deliver is with the base of my palm- so I use an upward thrust of my semi-open hand and give the wrench a serious whack.

This didn't go so well.

Instead of forcing the bolt to straighten, my additional force only caused the bone wrench to snap. So, the middle part of the wrench, which was just an aluminum support that looked like a + in cross-section, has just ripped apart somewhere in the middle. The force of my blow, however, kept my arm moving forward, and I proceeded to push my exposed wrist right into and through the now-sharp exposed shard of aluminum.

Blood gushes out of my arm, and onto my "support" friends. I fall to the ground, and yelp in pain.

I am going to die.

Right here, right now, because I tried to steal a street sign. I'm going to die from this. Right in front of this girl, how embarassing.

Going through my mind is the ghastly old saying:

This way to the hospital (making motion across wrist),
This way to the morgue (making motion down the arm at the wrist)

...and I see that my injury is in the latter direction - a nice open gash right up the arm, starting right at the exposed arteries in my wrist. I am going to die.

...fast forward...

Well, as you may have guessed by now, I did not die. As it turns out, my injury was quite superficial - I bled from losing some skin near my wrist, but the gash wasn't deep at all, and I didn't even need to go to the emergency room. (Okay, I should say that I didn't actualy go the emergency room - maybe I needed to, but I didn't)

So, the story had a happy ending after all. I wore a bandage around my wrist for a couple weeks, which was a fascinating conversation piece. I got the girl, and had a great few months with her (and then a few great hours from time to time afterward). And I ended up with one of the better stories of my lifetime. My blood-soaked friends got a good story out of it, too.

The humor may have been of the "had to be there" variety, but it was quite a moment - having a minute or so being truly convinced that my life was over.

[Swaggs]

After reading through this thread and trying to think of a good story, I think I have one...

When I was in high school, I was what could only be described as "whipped" by my lovely little high school girlfriend, who was kind enough to let me see her naked and such. As such, I met her by her locker at the end of class every day.

My locker was at the end of the hall and hers was on the opposite wall, maybe 20 feet down the hall. On that particular day, she had been wearing black jeans (hey, black jeans used to be cool, right?) and a red sweater. So, I had seen her at her locker and finished up emptying my backpack into my locker so I could spend a few minutes with her.

****
A quick interruption to help build the story. When I was in high school, there was a beautiful girl of Mid-Eastern descent that was Islamic. She was really a great all around girl (not suprisingly named most beautiful girl in our class, in fact) that was intelligent, very friendly, and just a total knockout. Because she was Islamic and had very strict parents, she was never allowed to date or go to football games or out in groups. On top of that, she had a body-building, older brother that made Lou Ferrigno look like a peanut. Rumor had it that he had listened to a telephone conversation his sister had with a boy that wanted to take her to a dance, and the ensuing events were not pretty.
****

Back to my story now. I finished up with my locker and slammed it shut and headed over towards my girlfriend's locker. Since she seemed engrossed in packing her books into her backpack, I snuck over and, as I regularly did, tickled her ass, just to the inside of her back pocket.

What happened next is kind of melted together and I can't remember in which order they happened, but I think the next thing I saw was my girlfriend appearing to my right, walking with my bestfriend towards her locker. Realizing that I could not be tickling my girlfriend's ass with my lefthand because she was clearly standing to my right, I turned to see whose ass it was that I was tickling, and sure enough, it was the beautiful girl of Mid-Eastern (I know, lame description, but since I am still very much afraid of her brother, the less detail the better :) ) descent's rear end. There last names both began with the same few letters, so, of course, their lockers were adjacent.

She jumped and, fortunately for me, began giggling. My girlfriend, who caught me in the act, was suprisingly not angry once she realized that they were both wearing black jeans and a red sweater and were about the same body size with similar hair color/styles. My best friend, predictably, enjoyed being able to see me act like a big ass.

The whole thing was pretty surreal, because at the time I was so afraid of her brother and sexual harassment (around the time Clarence Thomas made it "popular"), plus she had never dated anyone, so I felt bad about even touching her.

Looking back at it now it is pretty damn funny, but still embarassing. :)

[Fidatelo]

Here's a "laugh at my misfortune story". I played on an intramural floor hockey team in high school. These games were pretty insane, the school ended up having to ban intramural floor hockey in my final year of high school because it got too rough (someone had their knee destroyed by a check into the bleachers (supposed to be no hitting), and lots of fights were occuring during and after games). But that's besides the point.

Anyways, I wasn't much of an athlete growing up, but at least in hockey I was reasonably ok. Until you put me in goal, that is. You see, I'm just a wee bit puck shy. Anyways, the way the teams worked is that the kids on the high school hockey team were all captains of intramural teams, which was fair because it split them up. Unfortunately it also meant that there was always at least one dude on the opposing team that had a frickin' howitzer of a shot. Oh, and did I mention that slapshots were allowed and that you could bring your own stick?

Well, by this point you can probably see what happened. My captain decided to put me in net one game (no one wanted to be goalie so we took turns). I let in a slapshot early, and a light went off in the other teams head: he's afraid of the puck. This might have to do with my natural instinct to turn sideways and make myself as small as possible.

Well, the shots began to rain down upon me like crazy. I don't remember how many goals our team scored (I think around 7, but their team scored 29 against me. In 30 minutes. Yep, you read that right, I gave up almost a goal a minute.

Needless to say I was never asked to play goalie again :p

[Swaggs]

Originally posted by QuikSand
Back in younger days, I went out with a few college friends (no doubt with the suport of a little "liquid courage") in search of street signs to steal. I wasn't looking for a stop sign or anything that might cause real harm - rather, wanted a sign by a nearby overpass, which read "weight limit 12 tons." I thought it would be good to hang over my dorm room bed, if you get my drift.


Quote of the moment fodder if I have ever heard any! :)

[CamEdwards]

Here's my funniest "on-air" story:

About four years ago, I was the afternoon news anchor at the radio station where I now work as the morning host. I had four newscasts an hour, and between writing my own stories and anchoring, I didn't always have time to read my scripts before I went on the air.

I was halfway through a newscast one afternoon when I got to a story about the pecan harvest in southern Oklahoma. It sounded something like this.

"Pecan farmers in southern Oklahoma say the drought has hurt them."

cut to soundbite of farmer:

"Take a look at my nuts. You can see they're smaller than normal. Just roll my nuts around in your hand and you can tell their softer than they should be."

cut to me:

stunned silence. Then I start reading the rest of the story.

"*chuckle*.. Farmer Raymond Brown says his nuts...*chuckle*"

and then I lost it. Full blown laughter. I was laughing so hard I was crying.. ON THE AIR. After about twenty seconds the producer (who was also laughing so hard he couldn't see) kills my mic and tries to toss it back to the afternoon host. Of course he's laughing so hard you can't make out a word he's saying.

Then the producer cuts back to me without warning, right as I'm saying through tears and giggles... "my nuts are smaller than normal."

After about fifteen more seconds of uncontrollable giggling all around, the producer finally had the presence of mind to just go to a commercial.

I'm still not sure if the reporter who wrote that story did it on purpose, or if he was just so ignorant he didn't realize what that soundbite would do to me.

[Ksyrup]

That's great stuff. I'm assuming you lost it like I just did!

[Swaggs]

That's classic stuff, Cam. :)

[korme]

Wow, I just finished up Ksyrup's penis story. LMAO. That had me literally 'laughing out loud'. :D

[Samdari]

So far Cam wins. That had me laughing out loud, which of course, alerts the office to the fact that I am not writing the Matlab code I am supposed to be writing. Matlab code is notoriously not funny.

Honorable mention to SkyDog

[MylesKnight]

Damn Cam, I just got (bleepin') V8 Tomato Juice all over my (bleepin') Monitor, Keyboard and my damn Desk..

:D :D :D :D

That was CLASSIC!!!

[korme]

Alright here's one. At my house a few months ago, it was 4 of us in my guest room. Yeah, we call beds everytime people sleep at my house, and I was reduced to sleeping on the guestroom floor. But that is besides the point.

Imagine the bed in a square room shifted against one of the walls so that you can only exit on one side. I slept near the feet of the bed while my other friend Ryan slept parallel with the bed on the floor.

Anyways, we had some Bacardi that night, and Ryan, the kid on the floor with me, was pretty trashed. In the bed, on the exit side, was Chad. The other kid is Jeremy, wallside of the bed, just so you get the whole idea.

Well Ryan on the floor, wakes up in the middle of the night. He's got to piss. But all of us are passed out/asleep. So Ryan gets up, turns on the light and yet in his drunken state, DOES NOT leave the room. He just turns, looks at my guest bed, whips it out, and proceeds to piss on Chad, head to toe. This is when Chad wakes up, in a pissed off state, realizing he is soaked with someone else's urine. Well the drunken pisser, Ryan, thinks he hasn't been caught yet, so he proceeds to run across the room, turns off the light switch, and then DIVES onto my floor, and pretends to be sleeping. Obviously, Chad was not fooled at all, as he watched the kid do all of this.

It was actually very funny, as I woke up, I found my friend in all of my clothes, with his laying in my bath. Probably the funniest thing I've ever heard (I never woke up through the ordeal).

[WSUCougar]

Originally posted by Shorty3281
This is when Chad wakes up, in a pissed off state
Wouldn't that be a pissed ON state? :redface:

[korme]

Heheh, I noticed that I had that lil' pun in there after I read.. :)

[sabotai]

Oh man......my face hurts from laughing.

I nominate Vince for the funniest story...."I have to ask her a question!" *click*....man, too funny. Your girl must have been pissed, or died laughing.

Runner up: Cam.

Who's a dawg? QS is. "I got the girl, and had a great few months with her (and then a few great hours from time to time afterward)."

And as I sit here, trying to think of a funny story, I can't. I have lived a boring life. Just a few things have happened to me, from flooding the chemistry room in high school, to my girlfrined's hair catching on fire at a party, to a threat from a friend to a bunch of girls from the car, to having to drive a 12 year old home after talking her out of running away with a 19 year old sick bastard, to cracking my front tooth in half playing basketball, to ripping my hand open at work......

On second thought....

[GoldenEagle]

One time at band camp....

Sorry, couldnt resist. :D

[sabotai]

Ok here's the flood story, with a suppliment short stories "Soaking the substiture teacher" and "Gobstopper hotplate"

12th grade Advanced Chemistry. That's right, all of the stories were performed by "advanced" students. I was in a group with 4 friends. We did all kinds of shit together. But nothing compares to what we did in this class.

And it was partially because of the teacher. I forget his name right now, but he had been teaching a long time and just found some of the things we did funny.

One of the things we liked to do was take a part of the faucet off. It was the part where the water came out. Now, just to clarify, for anyone who has not been around a "School lab" area, the facets have the long, narrow pipes that go from the handles to turn the water on to the sink, but it makes a giant unpside down U shape. It's hard to explain...anyway.

We would take the "neck" off of the faucet. And we did it regularly.

However, one time...my friend didn't take JUST the neck off. Instead, he started unscrewing the whole thing.....with out me realizing.

So, here we are trying to do something...I don't remember. He's unscrewing the faucet, and he's just about done. That's when I get a little annoyed that he's just playing while we are doing work, and that's when I grab the faucet....

*WHOOSH*

A geyser of water shoots out. Everyone in the chem lab runs to the opposite side of the room. And there I am, stuck holding the damn faucet! So of course, everyone assumes it was me!

I try, but fail, to quickly screw the faucet back on. Meanwhile, the idiot friend of mine took off. One of my lab partners dove under the table. As the water landed on the table and went off, it looked like he was behind a water fall. :)

Anyway, in my attempt to put the faucet back on, I end up spraying water everywhere. After a few seconds, I drop it and get out of there...completely soaked. Within a minute the room is filled with water as it shot out water pretty quickly.

My teacher was cool about it. He told "the people" that there was a leak and we tried to fix it. He thought it was pretty funny.

After chem, we had lunch. At first, I tried to push blame off to my friend (he was the one who basically unscrewed it to the point that when I grabbed it, it came off). But after a few days and knowing nothing was going to happen to me, I accepted blame, because by them, it became more of a badge of honor than and embarrising moment. I flooded the chem room, and got no punishment from anyone.

After lunch, we have physics class, which was right next to the chem room. The physics room also had a lot of water in it.

Soaking the substitute teacher

Apparently, the faucet has three parts. The neck where the water comes out, and two parts underneath it. If you take off all three....well, we know what happens when you take off all three now. But if you take off the 2 parts, the water will just sit there.

Well, we thought that the if we turned the faucet on, the water should just shoot straight up, shouldn't it? At least, when the geyser went off, it shot straight up....but this was not the same faucet.

With the substitute teaching standing about 5 feet away, we learned that not all faucets shoot stright up.

We turn the faucet on...the water shoots up...but not straight up...and comes down right on the head of the substitute teacher!

We quickly turn the faucet off and put it back on and get ready for our punishment. But alas, it didn't come. She was cool about it. (Am I fuckin lucky or what?). She was, however, one of the heads of the play that year, so to make things even, we all (me and 3 lab partners [one was out that day]) had to buy a ticket to see the play.

Gobstopper Hotplate

Not much to this story. We just wanted to see what would happen if you put gobstoppers on a hotplate.

And here's what happens.

The gobstoppers melt, the gobstoppers stick, the gobstoppers stay (IOW, they melt and you can't get them off). And the result is that everytime you plug the hotplate in for now on, it will smell like gobstoppers.

[korme]

Last year, during the Shorty hosted Milk Challenge (2 awards: quickest to drink gallon of milk, person to throw up the most).

I was the camera guy, I'm not big on milk. One of my friends was not seeing how fast he could drink the gallon of milk (time limit is an hour by the way), he was definately going for the throw up award. By 5 minutes he was chugging and regurgitating routinely into the big puke can. Oh what fun it was to get my camera in there and tape it. Ok well one time we see this big object come out with alot of the liquid.

So cam guy Shorty goes in and looks in the garbage bag. Stank. But then, there it is! A huge object! So me and Throw Up Man take two sticks, and together with excellent teamwork lift that sucker out of the garbage and onto the ground. So what'd he throw up? Good question. There is no feasible way that it was a piece of food. He would have had to swallow a chicken breast whole for it to look like that in his stomach. So after much deliberation, we decided that he must have thrown up his small intestine. There's no way it could be anything else! It was huge and long!

[lcjjdnh]

Recent story from track.

I run long distance, which has a separate girls' coach and boys' coach.

Anyway, there are three very good girls who had started to run with us boys instead of the girls. Our coach decided to send us out in two groups and have us in the second group catch to the kids in the first group. My one friend is running in the first group, while myself, one the girls and another friend is running in the second.

All of sudden, we running up a street when we start to pull ahead of the first group. But, before we could do this, my friend in the first group decides to moon us before we pass him. What he forgot was that the girls were running with us that day. With this, the girl shrieks out in horror and he turns around red as a beat and apologizes.

Next time we're running, my friend who mooned us ran a shorter distance than us and was already back at the track before we got there. As my other friend comes in, the first friend decides to pull down his pants and give him a view of his front half of the body. Once again, the same girl is right there as he does it.

Fast foward, to yesterday. We are running down the street and my one friend, who mooned us, tries to explain to the girl that we can see each other naked because we're a "crew". In response, my other friend goes, "yeah, like a family". Obvously he didn't mean it the way he said it, but it was still one of the funniest things I have ever heard. We all just started cracking up and stopped running.

Not sure if you guys will find this story funny or if it had to be one of those you have to be there stories, but almost everyone in school was cracking up today as they heard the story.

[Vince]

Well, my obligatory baseball story...which is one of my greatest achievements ever. I don't know if it matches the diving catch with the beer in the other hand, though...;)

One year, winter league baseball, I was playing Center Field (I was 14 or 15 at the time). Pop up hit to left center, and I go over to catch the ball, but I lose it in the clouds (overcast day), and it drops about three feet to my right. I'm totally pissed, because it allowed the tying run to get to third, and there was still only one out.

Next batter comes up, and I am determined to make a play. Short blooper over the second baseman's head...I'm running all out, definitely not going to let this ball drop...I dive, fully extended in the air...the ball hits my glove, and I hold on for dear life. This part will be difficult to explain...I was completely in the air, and my chest hit the ground first. I didn't plan this, but my chest stuck, and my legs kept going forward, over my head. Kind of like a Scorpion...they just kept going. I ended up flipping over my head, and landing, amazingly enough, on my feet. The ball is still in my glove, and I gun it to the plate...where we nail the runner trying to score from third for the double play. By far, the best baseball feat ever performed in any league.

Until my mom ran out onto the field to hug me and to make sure I was still alive after flipping over in that grotesque manner.

[Fritz]

In third grade, I cheated on my history exam. In fourth grade, I stole my uncle Max's toupee and I glued it on my face when I was Moses in my Hebrew School play. In fifth grade, I knocked my sister Edie down the stairs and I blamed it on the dog...

When my mom sent me to the summer camp for fat kids and then they served lunch I got nuts and I pigged out and they kicked me out...

But the worst thing I ever done - I mixed a pot of fake puke at home and then I went to this movie theater, hid the puke in my jacket, climbed up to the balcony and then, then, I made a noise like this: hua-hua-hua-huaaaaaaa - and then I dumped it over the side, all over the people in the audience. And then, this was horrible, all the people started getting sick and throwing up all over each other. I never felt so bad in my entire life.

[CamEdwards]

Chunk, is that you?

[Fritz]

You don't think I was going to tell one of my stories do you?

[WSUCougar]

Alright, time to pull out some heavy guns.

When I was a senior in high school, my parents went back east to visit some relatives for several days. In classic fashion, my friends and I decided to have a party while they were gone. As a little background, I had been a beer-drinker for a couple years already, had been quite drunk several times, but had never gotten sick from it. I was rather proud of this latter point, although not for long.

My friends came over with a huge stockpile of Rainier beer (gack), snacks, dirty mags, cards, music (cassettes in those days), and the fun began. We liked to play a drinking game called “Brother Buzz,” which is a typical rules-oriented game where you get dinged for sips and chugs for various rules violations. Well, as I found out the next day, my friends had conspired to get me drunk as fast as possible, and their evil plan worked. Any optional drinks were assigned to me, and I was soon flying along.

One of the standard rules was no pointing, another was no swearing, and another was that everyone had to be called Brother _____ rather than just their name. Well, eventually my condition began to worsen, such that I was flagrantly breaking the rules. My friends could tell this better since some of it is vague for me (I wonder why), but I do remember flashes of things like jamming my forefinger into my friend’s face and saying, “Yeah? Well, F*CK YOU, DAVE!!!” Three chugs. “Yeah? F*CK all of you! (pointing)” Two chugs. Etc. etc., etc.

One guy eventually convinced me to drop out for awhile, which was a good idea, until I found a bottle of scotch someone had brought. BAD idea.

Fast forward to some time later (I have no clue how long it was). As a side note, our group was pretty tight, and we’d all bought these cool personalized football jerseys for a club team we played on during the summer. >FLASH< I’m sitting on the floor in the bathroom with my back against the bathtub. >FLASH< I’m ralphing all over my football jersey, looking down and thinking to myself, “Oh, man, that’s gross” and then doing it again for good measure. >FLASH< My friends have me in the shower, clothed, spraying me with cold water and me cussing them all to hell. >FLASH< I am looking at one my friend’s faces, and he’s turning away like he can’t bear to look. >FLASH< I wake up in my bed with what feels like a concrete block attached to my head, and when I move (slowly) I hear the crackling of dried puke in my hair. >FLASH< I go into the bathroom, and find a layer of oatmeal-like vomit covering the floor all around the toilet and bathtub area, in some places an inch thick. I can’t describe how disgusting it was, but I sure got a good dose of it, since I had to clean it up.

I had to clean everything up, as my friends refused to aid me further after what they’d had to do the previous night. Not to mention that my folks were coming home the next day, so I needed to get the whole house in order. Bottle caps were everywhere, the house smelled rancid, and I felt dead to the world.

For this epic production, I was awarded a Chipper Award – a certificate (which I still have somewhere) with such things as “Merit for Quantity” noted on it and signed by all my friends who were present. I can never recall experiencing a puke-fest of that variety, before or since.

[sabotai]

Any recent, and hopefully embarrising, stories? It's graduation time for some, you have to have some juicy stuff for us. :)

[EagleFan]

Not recent, but I'll chime in since I haven't yet.

A few years back, maybe more than just a few. Coming back from a Wings game, after stopping off at the Ground Round for wings and drinks, 4 of us (all friends from high school) decided to pay a late night visit to a couple that we also went to school with (they are now married and hated by most from our class as they are elitist yuppies).

We would always torture this guy, all the way back to school when we would put his truck up on the sidewalk, or on blocks, during school outings. We placed barrells full of water in the back of his truck and stuff like that following other Wings games, it was a bit of a tradition for a while.

This particular day it had snowed and the roads were slippery. We were in my friends Formula Firebird (key to a later portion of the story). We knew that John was going to be at his girlfriend's house that night since her parents were away.

Her house was at the end of a dead end so we drove just past her house and parked the car in the turn-around area. We walked back to her yard and found his truck to be unlocked so we took it out of gear and pushed it out to the road and a little past the turn-around.

We then decided to go back and get her car. It was locked so we were seaching for something to jimmy the lock with and suddenly there was a bright light shining on us. Her neighbors saw us and had called the police. We were suddenly face to face with the police while trying to jimmy open a car in the middle of the night.

I still have no idea how we talked our way out of it but conviced the cop that we knew the people that lived there and were just playing a joke. He never even went to the house to check our story but told us to leave.

We got back in our friend's car and proceeded to the end of the road with the cop following us and then got stuck. Three of us had to jump out of the car and push him out of the snow. We saw the cop behind us just laughing his ass off while we then got covered with a wave of slush as his our friend's car took hold and tore up some snow (nothing like a 300+ horsepower rear wheel drive sports car in the snow).

We still can't believe the cop never even checked out our story. We knew we were up the river if he did because we could easily see John saying he didn't even know us.

[Chief Rum]

Well, I don't have any recent ones, but I missed this thread the first time, so I thought I might contribute.

Here's one. I'm in Vegas with a bunch of friends, including my brother. I'm the kind of guy that A) sits at a blackjack table until the wee hours of the morning, and B) am duly impressed by how many free drinks I can guzzle in a certain amount of time. This particualr tale involves me and a table at O'Hares, across from Caesar.

At first I am playing with my brother and friends, but they eventually take off somewhere else, and I am left to my game. I am on a good run, it seems, and I am also draning the drinks like nothing. The night passed in a haze, as I counted up the drinks...5 White Russians (my drink at the time)...10 White Russians...15...20...now, mind you, these are the free-super-watered-down-using-cheap-ass-vodka-in-Vegas White Russians, but nevertheless, drunk in quantity, they certainly have their effect. I was able to stay even or up by $25 or so most of the night, but it was getting really hard to keep my vision still and steady or my focus on my cards by the time I noticed the sun was coming up. The last thing I remember was noting it was past seven (I remember thinking that because that's when the breakfast buffet at Imperial Palace next door opens), and, of course, that I was really, REALLY tired.

The next moment I remember, I awoke on a hotel bed in a dark room. I had no idea where I was. I stumbled around in the dark and found my watch. It was two in the afternoon. I pulled back the blinds (which were closed), and realized I was in the IP hotel room we all had rented (about 7-8 guys in a room). I couldn't remember a thing between sitting at the blackjack table and me being in this room.

So I had to find out later from my friends what happened. Apparently, about nine o'clock in the morning, I slammed the door open and stumbled into the room. My entrance was quite loud, waking a few of my friends. I propped against the wall opposite the beds, head (and whole body) leaning into my arm, which I was using for support. One of my freinds would later call it the "holding up the wall" act. Apparently, I stayed like this for a good five minutes, holding up the wall, and trying to steady myself. Since it was mostly done in silence, my friends drifted off to sleep again.

I finally decided to make my move. My brother and a friend were on one of the beds. I proceeded to stumble to the edge of the bed, crawled up on top of it, up between my brother and my friend, and then proceeded to brusquely push my brother completely over the edge of the bed, giving him a rude awakening (he hadn't budged when I first came in apparently). I then proceeded to completely pass out and become the Immovable Object.

Having been awakened my brother and friends decided to just go golfing and let me sleep it off. :)

Two things-- I never found out how in the hell I made it from O'Hares back to IP, or whom I no doubt accosted along the way, and I discovered a $125 in chips that I had apparently won at the blackjack table, despite my blithering drunk state. ;)

Chief Rum

[cuervo72]

Sophmore year in college, and we were all getting ready to watch the NBA in our lounge, Bulls/Knicks I think. Well, there's this gruff Chinese guy there (I think he was Chinese...anyway, my friends who wanted to watch the game were two Chinese, one Korean and an Indian, so it's not really an integral part of the story) , the boyfriend of a girl on our floor who didn't talk to us the whole year. He decided when we were away that he was going to watch Kung Fu movies!

Well, my friends and I usually aren't directly confrontative (we tended to be more plotting and devious), and this guy didn't seem like he really would have been interested anyway. So we figured hmm, how can we piss him off/drive him out of the lounge? My room and two of the other guys' rooms were at opposite ends of the floor, with the lounge roughly in the middle. We popped each had the Achtung Baby cd (this is in 92/93), so we decided to put a copy in a stereo in each room, crank it up, and synchronize playing them over the phone (ok, on three...). Zoo Station was BLASTING through our floor, and in the lounge created a nice stereo effect.

Well, Kung-Fu boy wasn't all that pleased, and became somewhat confrontative, spouting out stuff about him being a bad-ass from the streets of Philly, and that he (and possibly a couple buddies) was going to do some Kung Fu on our asses. I think his GF talked him down. We didn't see much of him - or her - after that.

[Eaglesfan27]

I missed this thread the first time so I decided I would share two embarassing unrelated stories that some people may find funny:

The first one occured when I was either 13 or 14. First, you should know I was raised exclusively by a single mom who didn't know jack about sports. I decided to play football for the first time my freshman year as I had wanted to shed my nerd image and also I had just undergone a big growth spurt and had been lifting for two years. Anyway, on our first day of our team meeting which was just Coach talking to us (and telling us what to expect) he told me and the rest of the guys to just wear their shorts and shoulder pads for the first practice the next day (because the temp was supposed to be over 95 degrees.) Well, I think this is great and I come to practice the next day, completely excited about my first real practice. I immediately notice guys snickering at me and wonder what the heck I am doing wrong. I'm dressed in my Jersey with pads and my uniform shorts. I notice the snickering gets really bad when I bend over for offensive linemen drills. In my excitement, I hadn't realized everyone was wearing different shorts. Only when a teammate comes up to me at the end of practice and tells me, do I realize I'm wearing an boxer-brief type of athletic supporter that came with the uniform to go under our pants as my shorts. Furthermore, it was kind of small and tight so people can see my underwear that I'm wearing underneath my uniform's "underwear." I was so embarassed I wanted to quit the team but I didn't and guys teased me about it for the whole season. Even worse, the girl's soccer team (which had a really cute girl I really liked) was practicing on the field next to us and they all noticed my mistake as well.

The second story is not as funny in my opinion: I had never been drunk before in my life and I was a 17 year old freshman at Univ. of Southern California and my friends decided it would be fun to get me drunk to celebrate the end of our first. All, I had drank during my freshman year was beer and I was rather ignorant about hard liquor. Well, they bought me a fifth of Black Rum and convinced me that a 32 oz cup should be filled equally with half rum and half coke and that I should drink that all throughout the night. Furthermore, my friends decided they should add some more Rum as I got lower in the cup, without adding a compensating amount of coke. Well, after drinking this mixture for a while the world started becoming hazy. We were watching Happy Gilmore. The rest of the story I can only retell because my roommates decided it would be really funny to videotape the rest of it. First, they videotaped me puking in the toilet (I'm told it smelled like pure rum.) Then, they videotaped me walking into the cute girl's room across the room from us and pissing in their living room corner (my friends apparently told me this was the proper place to go to the bathroom.) Then, I was on the verge of passing out, so they directed me back to my bedroom and stopped videotaping me. The rest of the story I know from my poor roommate who didn't have any part in getting me drunk. He was already asleep underneath me in the bunkbeds. I somehow got to the top bunk without breaking my neck (which to this day amazes me.) Anyway, at some point I woke up and puked over the side of the bed with a large portion of it splattering on him. At which point, he woke up and nicely escorted me out of the room, onto the couch and placed my huge laundry basket (after he emptied it gratefully) besides me which I puked into several other times that night (I eventually just had dry heaves.) I was hung over for about 36 hours and had to help the girls clean their carpet the next day. My roommate who was a great guy had already cleaned our room.

Anyway, these are my two most embarassing moments. I really thought Cam's story was the most funny with several others that also made me laugh out loud.

[tucker342]

Chief Rum, that's a great story:D

[cuervo72]

Originally posted by sabotai
Gobstopper Hotplate

Not much to this story. We just wanted to see what would happen if you put gobstoppers on a hotplate.

And here's what happens.

The gobstoppers melt, the gobstoppers stick, the gobstoppers stay (IOW, they melt and you can't get them off). And the result is that everytime you plug the hotplate in for now on, it will smell like gobstoppers. [/B]

Reminds me a the time in cooking class in Jr. High (I've mentioned this before, so pardon if it's familiar). After we cooking french toast or pancakes or something, we would clean up the dishes, stove, etc. and then return to our desks for whatever "lesson" the teacher had for us (how to use an egg-beater, how to measure things, idiot stuff like that. Well, one time right before we headed back to our desks, I placed some paper towels on one of the electric stove's burners, and set the burner to low. A few minutes later, in the middle of the lesson, the burner got hot enough to light the towels :) Somehow I didn't get in trouble for it.

In elementary school, I remember one time in lunch my Mom packed an orange for me (which she was known to do), and at that age, I had no idea how to eat an orange correctly. I would chew it, and be left with a big sticky mess. Well, one day I decided it would be a good idea to take that big juicy mess in my hand, and hurl it towards the wall of the cafeteria. The walls were painted cinderblock, and were maybe 20 feet tall, painted one color on the bottom half and white on the top. Well anyway, I threw the mass pretty high (I didn't even bother to get up from my table, so it passed over a couple of them), hit on the top half of the wall - and stuck. Nobody (lunch aides, teachers) noticed this until well after lunch, so it stuck there for a few hours. Eventually I was nabbed, and returned to the cafeteria to get up on a ladder and clean the orange off. I believe it ended up leaving a mark....

Oh, and then there was the time in college when we went into one of the engineering buildings at night and roamed through the halls emptying a fire extinguisher...after which I believe we went outside to urinate on the school library.

[Draft Dodger]

this morning my wife and I were leaving the house and she said..."it looks good clean-shaven".

I stopped, gave her a funny look, and then realized she meant to say "the lawn looks good mowed".

signed,
Sigmund

[SirFozzie]

I only have two embarassing stories, both neighborhood sports:

We played two hand touch football in my drive way (one endzone was the open garage doors) and the other endzone was across the street. Well, I throw a perfect long bomb to yhe reciever, who's watching ball all the way, and looks like it'll just drop into his hands right before he makes the endzone. Unfortunately, I throw it a litle to his right. and you see, we had two garage doors, and there was a mini wall between the two of em. He jumps up, catches the ball and SLAMS into the garage wall, and is OUT like a light for a few minutes.

The funny thing is, while he counted the birdies on the driveway.. we were arguing over if he had held the ball long enough and if the garage wall counted as the end zone ;)

The other one iwas at a friend's house where we had a neighborhood ball league. Single to the outfield, my brother Jody hits third and heading home, where he stumbles. Since they're already throwing home, he starts back to third.the Catcher comes up the line and takes the throw and fires to third. My brother dives in head first.. the throws a bit off line, so the third baseman has to reach for it, and jumps back in an attempt to tag Jody, and wham.. the third baseman's knee cllouts my brother in the head. now, my brother had minor cuts, he even finished the game after a few minutes of wooziness. But he has a pretty good shiner for a bit, and I guess a little bit of the blood got intohis eyes, and he could freak anyone out, he'd just look away, and the combination of the blood in his eye (all different colors) and the shiner would make brave men lose their lunch ;)

[cthomer5000]

This takes place about 4 years ago, when I lived off-campus while going to Rutgers.



After a fairly uneventuful Friday night, me and one of my housemates (Rich) part ways and head to our rooms at about midnight, a pretty early bedtime for a college student on a Friday. I wake up Saturday morning, come out of my room, and someone who looked vaguely familiar sleeping on our couch. I'm thinking, "Some of Rich's friends must have come down to New Brunswick last night to crash here." This sort of thing was a totally normal occurence for any of us liviing in the house (4 total), we had plenty of friends who'd come down to hang out for a night, or just sleep over if in the area for a concert or something. I headed to the shower to get my morning going.

After a quick rinse, I'm heading back to my bedroom, and pass by Rich in the kitchen. We give each other the standard "hey" greeting and keep on moving - me to my bedroom, him to his frying eggs.

After getting dressed I step out of my room for a bite to eat, and head back into the kitchen. I'm pouring a bowl of Kix when Rich leans over and asks "Uhh, do you know this guy?" (referring to the still sleeping couch resident).


Me: "No! He's not one of your friends?"

Rich: "No way. I thought it was Mendem (last name of one of our friends) at first, but it's definitely not."

Both our other roomates are home for the weekend, so we're the only two there. We head into the living-room to find out who the hell Guy On The Couch is. He's a smallish guy, so we're not very concerned about our safety.

As we step into the room, Guy On the Couch wakes up.


Rich: "Uhh, hey."

GOTC: "Hey, Where am I?"

We explain exactly where he is, and we all realize we have definitely never met before.

Rich: Do you have any clothes on under there? (GOTC is under a blanket which always sat on the couch to cover stained cushions)

GOTC: No. Do you know where my stuff is?

there is no sight of pants, shirt, shoes, or wallet and keys.

GOTC: I was at a party on Blank St. last night and got pretty drunk, I think some friends must have played a trick on me. Are you sure you guys aren't fucking with me?

GOTC is positive we're screweing with him, and part of some elaborate joke that has left him naked in a strange apartment.

Me: Do you know anyone who lives nearby? Have them come bring you some clothes or something.

GOTC: where am I again?

Rich gives our address.

GOTC: Yeah, I know this girl that lives just a few blocks away - I think. I'll call her.

In the meantime I'm digging up my worst pieces of clothing to give to this guy to get him the hell out of our house. We overhear what is (predictably) a strange conversation between GOTC and the girl he's calling. I can't imagine making a call like that myself. During this phone call he repeats our address about 5 times, confirms it with us twice, and continues on. The phone call ends, and I continue digging for throwaway clothes. Less than a minute later there is a knock at our back door. (We were the first floor of a 2 apt house. So this was our "inner' back door. Only friends or upstairs neighbors would be knocking.

We answer the door, and it's Anne, one of our upstairs neighbor - holding some sweatpants and a t-shirt.

Anne: Hey, I am SO sorry about this.

Us: What?

Anne: Sorry about this, I barely even know this guy. I'm so embarrased, And really sorry.

We're now dumbfounded by the odds that this guy would call this girl he barely knew, and by chance that it would be DIRECTLY above our apartment. The coincidence was mind-blowing.

Anne gives him some clothes, continues to apologize profusely, and we get the guy the hell out of our apartment. It was an incredibly strange episode. It got even stranger and funnier when Anne came back a few hours later to fill us in on some details.

Anne: I barely know that guy. He's a friend of a friend and we've met maybe twice. I'm really sorry about this whole thing.

Me and Rich found it more funny than anything and assure here it's not her fault and there is no harm done.

Anne: I've never really liked that guy because he's kind of weird.

She then goes on to explain how someone was knocking at their door at like 4 am last night, and they didn't answer it. They never checked outside that door (their front door) until mid-afternnon, because they all ALWAYS came in and out of the back door (near the driveway)...

When somone finally went out the front door they found a pile of clothes. A pile of wet clothes. Upon further inspection, a pile of urin-soaked clothes. Anne knew that GOTC was known to have to piss often when drinking, and apparently relieved himself on the landing in front of their apartment. Then for whatever reason, used his own clothes to dry it up, and left them a few feet from her door. He then stumbled back downstairs naked, and into our apartment (literally the ONLY night I hadn't checked that the front door was locked before going to bed).

All in all, one of the strangest and funniest experiences of my life. It's always a fun story to tell. And yes it's true. Names where changed to protect the participants.

[lcjjdnh]

Funny Story from a trip to NYC/Shea Stadium:

It started off with my dad buying Mets tickets for my family. Later he found out my brother/sister had a baseball/softball game so they wouldn't be able to go. So he decides to give the tickets to my friends and I believing that we're old enough to take a trip to the city by ourselves(we were 16 at the time). Since none of drive, we had to take the bus into the city(From New Jersey) and then take the subway around.

We get to the Port Authority bus station and decide to buy tickets for the trip home. I didn't have any pockets so I give mine to one of my friends to hold on to. Anyway, we leave the bus terminal and my friend says he wants to go to Times Square. I suggest we go under the subway tunnel and it will take us right to the Times Square station so we can walk out right to it. My friend insist that he knows the city and demands that we follow him. So we're walking along and two of my friends decide to buy sunglasses. As we're standing there, I get up and I see that we're on like 33rd St. Knowing that we started on at least 39th or 40th St. I think to myself that we've been walking in the wrong direction for a good 10 to 15 minutes b/c Times Square is on 42nd St. After I finally convince my bonehead friend we were going we turn a around and start back on our way.

All of of sudden we're walking along and my my same friend starts to scream. He goes,

"Oh my God, look, look it's Samuel L. Jackson"

We all look and together exclaim:

"You idiot, it's the freaking wax musuem"

Everyone in the area just started laughing at the kid including the guy working at the museum.

Then we go to the Virgin Megastore and of course this same friend manages to actually get lost inside the store. We're already to leave before we realize that we didn't know where he was. It actually took us a good 20 minutes to find him in the store. When we find him, we get on the subway.

Now, we have arrived at Shea Stadium. I call my dad to tell him and he tells us to make sure we get out of there in time, as it was fireworks night and the game could run long and he didn't want us to miss the last bus to NJ. I tell my friends who all agree until this same friend exclaims in all seriousness:

"It's not that far, we can always walk home"

We all stand there stunned at this comment and don't even give him an immediate response. He apparently doesn't realize that it requires us to cross back over the river and then another 30 minute drive back to our town much less walk.

For some reason, this game goes particular long and we have to rush out of there quickly. I look at the time and realize that if we don't hurry we won't get back in time for the bus. Now we arrive at the subway station and realize we have no idea how to get back to the bus terminal because my friend refused to go under to get to Times Square. We have to ask the conductor for directions and sprint. After running through the tunnel to the bus station, my friend is convinced that he know where to go. So we run there and don't see our bus. We ask a police officer for help and he tells us that our bus is in fact on the other side of the terminal. Another sprint to get there, and we get there just in time. Now if you recall, I gave my ticket to my friend. As I get on the bus, I ask him for my ticket and as luck would have it, he has lost it. Now I'm really worried b/c this is the last bus back. Finally, he finds it in one of his pockets and we get on.

We walk to the back of the bus only to see my same friend's brother and some of his friends. After attempting to start a conversation we realize that he is just piss drunk, and of course not of legal drinking age. It was a fine conclusion to a funny trip.

Sorry if this was a bit long but the whole trip was a pretty interesting experience for our first solo trip to the city.

[illinifan999]

When i was 11 we were playing football in the frontyard. The frontyard is loaded with trees. I am on of the receivers and I go out for a pass, and the QB lofts it over to me right away. I catch it and right away get bulldozed by a tree. I had a pretty scratched up face from that. To top it all off, class pictures were the next day.

This next one isn't really that funny at all, just a few nice slides in baseball.

We were playing and I got on second. The coach kept telling me to get off further and further. Finally the pitcher throws it back to second and I look like I'm about to be totally out, shouldn't have even been close. I start running back to the bag and the 2nd baseman puts his glove down so he gets my cleat when I slide. Except that I didn't slide I jumped over his glove and got back safely.

This year was freshmen baseball. We were playing Johnsburg :mad: (our rivals) and we needed to win to stay in the conf champ hunt. (They usually always beat us, in every sport, every year.) Well I get walked right away, and then comes our 6th batter who was in a major slump. He gets a hold of hit and puts it over the left fielders head. I'm chugging around third as he is saying go, go ,go then suddenly STOP! I was already half-way home so I kept running. The catcher catches it when I'm about 3/4 of the way there. He gets down to block the plate and just expects me to slide into him. Too bad we really needed taht run so I remembered what Jason Kendall did once when he jumped over the catcher, so I figured what the hell and I jumped and landed on my back but I was squarely on home plate so I was safe. Then in the bottom of the 7th (last inning) I came up with the bases loaded down by 1. I had gone 0-2 with a walk so far in the game. First pitch line drive into the gap beating the much hated rivals. :D

[tucker342]

cthomer's story kind of reminds me of the guy on the couch in Halfbaked:D

Great story:D

[Balldog]

My sophomore in High School we were getting loose before our baseball game on the first base side in foul territory while the other team was taking infield. They were about done and their coach hits a pop-up to the catcher well he hit it a little up the line and start yelling heads up. He yells heads up about 4 times, I'm thinking what are the odds of it hitting me so I don't move and throw the ball to my buddy. Then wham I got hit right scare in the middle of the top of my head on the little button on top of your hat. It hurt like hell. I went 2-3 though.

[WSUCougar]

bumped, because there is some FUNNY stuff in here

[Draft Dodger]

I just walked by someone's desk. she was gone for the night, but sitting together on top of her desk was

1 Cucumber
1 Tube of Vaseline Intensive Care Hand Lotion

[korme]

No frickin' way DD.

[Dutch]

Here's my funniest "on-air" story:

About four years ago, I was the afternoon news anchor at the radio station where I now work as the morning host. I had four newscasts an hour, and between writing my own stories and anchoring, I didn't always have time to read my scripts before I went on the air.

I was halfway through a newscast one afternoon when I got to a story about the pecan harvest in southern Oklahoma. It sounded something like this.

"Pecan farmers in southern Oklahoma say the drought has hurt them."

cut to soundbite of farmer:

"Take a look at my nuts. You can see they're smaller than normal. Just roll my nuts around in your hand and you can tell their softer than they should be."

cut to me:

stunned silence. Then I start reading the rest of the story.

"*chuckle*.. Farmer Raymond Brown says his nuts...*chuckle*"

and then I lost it. Full blown laughter. I was laughing so hard I was crying.. ON THE AIR. After about twenty seconds the producer (who was also laughing so hard he couldn't see) kills my mic and tries to toss it back to the afternoon host. Of course he's laughing so hard you can't make out a word he's saying.

Then the producer cuts back to me without warning, right as I'm saying through tears and giggles... "my nuts are smaller than normal."

After about fifteen more seconds of uncontrollable giggling all around, the producer finally had the presence of mind to just go to a commercial.

I'm still not sure if the reporter who wrote that story did it on purpose, or if he was just so ignorant he didn't realize what that soundbite would do to me.

Woooo! That is one hilarious story, Cam! Oh man...

[Draft Dodger]

No frickin' way DD.

truth

[Fritz]

When I was in college I had this Italian Girlfriend. I was failing Spanish and she decided to help, figuring Spanish and Italian were pretty close. Her plan was to come over with some flashcards mornings before class and drill me. Her system involved mounting me. She would should show me the english word and if I got the spanish word right she would move. Well, I got pretty damn proficient with this in no time.

Fast forward: I was in class and the prof. called on me. Protocol was to stand up and give the answer to a question. So he asks me something, and I reply in spanish (with perfect itallian inflection), and sprouted a handsome and obvious erection. I quickly grabbed my books, covered manly region, and walked out.

I dropped that class.

[corbes]

Fritz's story here.

Pavlov was on to something there.

[AZSpeechCoach]

My nuts are smaller than normal...

I won't stop laughing for weeks...

During my college radio DJ days, I had the Thursday afternoon shift one semester. There was an annoying sports-guy named Wayne who would do 2 sports reports an hour. Wayne also had a VERY high opinion of his own worth. He was making a "demo tape" of his reports so that when ESPN came calling, he could show them how talented he was. He always wanted us to announce his report as if Jesus himself were coming back. This despite the fact that he couldn't announce worth a damn or pronounce names correctly. One day, my assistant and I decide to screw with Wayne. We started playing "Macarena" (my show was devoted to music that sucks), and noticed that Wayne was dancing in the news studio. I pulled out a sound-bite, and just as I announced "And now, it's time with sports with your dancing sports dude, Wayne," I played "Bring out the gimp" from Pulp Fiction. Five seconds of shocked silence from Wayne, and then he limply started the sports news. The next week, I opened his sports report with a Star Wars "I recognized your foul stench when I came on board." Wayne came storming into the studio after that. "What the hell?!? You're ruining my demo tape!" Wayne managed to have himself transferred to another show shortly after that.

[sabotai]

I just thought about this thread the other day while reading through the SI suspension thread. The kid brings in an SI swimsuit edition and gets suspended for three days, and me and my friends did all kinds of shit (the 3 in here are just the tip of the iceberg) in school, and never got punished for any of it.

[bbor]

I just walked by someone's desk. she was gone for the night, but sitting together on top of her desk was

1 Cucumber
1 Tube of Vaseline Intensive Care Hand Lotion

Pic?

[corbes]

My nuts are smaller than normal...
Stories like that always crack me up


"What the hell?!? You're ruining my demo tape!"

:D :D

That's a good one. I'll have to use that line sometime.

[Logan]

Great thread. Here's a story from a couple weeks ago that I will NEVER live down.

And for cthomer and any other Rutgers alum, I'll be specific about certain things so you can have a point of reference...

So it was a normal Friday night around RU. My roommates and I were pre-gaming at our place before we hit up a couple parties. Let me preface by saying that I can drink. I have a real high tolerance and can go with the best of em. While I certainly get drunk a lot, I don't get ridiculously incoherent too often. And fine, I won't be 21 for a few months, but hey--what you gonna do? Anyway, we recently discovered that Smirnoff Citrus Twist is the greatest vodka ever (well, besides the Goose). You can mix equal parts of that and any juice and you won't taste anything. So in not too much time, I kill 3 cups that had about 3 shots each, and then we go over to a friend's house on Morrell St.

Once I got there, I started feeling the vodka, but that's not a problem. Ended up playing a game of spades with a few friends. We quit the game about halfway thru, and at that point I filled my pint glass 4 or 5 times. Time to head to the next party...

We go all the way down Hamilton St. to a Delta Gamma sorority party. I get in, start dancing with some of the girls...and since I was real drunk at this point, my hatred of dancing is out the window. They had a few kegs there, which I visited frequently. I do remember it being a real fun time, but unfortunately, this is also the last thing I remember.

----
(Everything from here until further notice has been recounted to me by the parties involved. Enjoy my stupidity...)

I left with one of my roommates and we headed to RU Grill for some food. After gettin some pizza, we realize for our own sake, we better get back to our apartment. As we walk into our building, I separate from him, as he's going to hang out with someone in another apartment. I get in the elevator, and walk down the hall to my room. I realize at this point that I don't have my key, and am in danger of passing out in the hallway, so I call my roommate. Now my roommate's speed dial on my cell phone is #31 (this is one of maybe 5 speed dial numbers I know, for whatever reason). So I dial "3" "1" "send."

At least I thought I dialed that. Apparently I missed the "3." So instead of calling my roommate, I called #1 on my speed dial. Home. When someone picked up, I started rambling, "I'm real drunk, I can't get into the apartment, and I'm about to pass out." And then I hung up.

[A quick aside to describe where I live. It's called the Easton Ave. Apartments, and its a large complex--about 10 stories high. While normally its fine, its not exactly great to be wandering around the street alone and drunk at 3 am in the area, which is right by the New Brunswick train station.]

Somehow I got into the apartment, and passed right out. My mom, however, was terrified. She hears her son incoherent on the phone, saying he can't get into his apartment, and is about to pass out (and she thinks I'm on Easton Ave. at this point). So she frantically tries to call me back. I don't pick up. Calls a few more times, no answer. She now decides to call the Rutgers police. They call my cell. No answer.

----
I become conscious again in the living room to my apartment, as I'm butchering my ABCs. Joining me is my equally messed-up roommate, a Rutgers cop, an EMT, and the head RA of the apartments. They decide that they needed to take both of us to the hospital. So they make us go in an ambulance to Robert Wood Johnson Hospital...which is honestly a 10 second WALK from my apartment.

I'm not in the emergency room for more than 5 minutes before my parents walk in (school is only about 20 mins from home). I thought they were going to kill me, but they were just happy I was alive. The doctor made me sit around for a while, and then I walked a straight line, and was released to my parents who took me back. FWIW, they wouldn't let my roommate go until his BAC level came down, as his parents weren't there. He read out at .167, and this was after sleeping for 2 hours. I can't even imagine what mine was at one point.

I guess the moral of the story is, if you're gonna drink, don't be stupid. And if you're gonna be stupid, don't call your parents and let them in on it.

And damn this was long...

[TLK]

Wow.....

[Eaglesfan27]

I did a few of my med school rotations at RWJ Hospital and am very familiar with those apartments as I used to date a girl who lived there.. funny story.

[WSUCougar]

Was just recently reminded of Cam's infamous nut story, so I thought I'd bump this.

[Poli]

Nice. I missed this entire thread.

[Ksyrup]

Glad to see this was revived instead of a new thread started so I don't have to re-tell my penis near-transplant story again. Although, Christmas is around the corner...

[sterlingice]

Man, I don't remember this thread at all but some good stuff here :D

SI

[Pumpy Tudors]

Thanks for bumping this thread. I'd forgotten about it, but re-reading some of these stories has me cracking up here in the office. Anyway, here's a Pumpy story for you (no pics):

A couple of years ago, my wife called me right before I was leaving work to ask me to pick up dinner on the way home. She wanted Thai food, which I don't really eat. My plan was to walk into the Thai restaurant, order her food, go across the street to a gas station, and just get myself a sandwich or something. I got to the restaurant and walked in. I'd been in there a few times before, but I didn't recognize any of the people I saw working there that night. There were four Thai men near the counter. Three were sitting and one was working behind the counter. Nobody else was in the room.

Please pardon the broken English I use to quote the guy in this story. This is exactly how he spoke, and I'm not trying to make fun of his nationality.

One of the three seated men smiled and yelled to me, "Come in! How you doing?" I told him that I was fine and that I wanted to place a to-go order. The guy behind the counter took my order, and I said that I would be back in about 15 minutes to pick it up. The guy who greeted me then exclaims, "Why you leave? Stay! Sit down! Have drink with us!" The other guys at the counter look like they're about to burst into laughter at any second. I explain that I'm just going to go across the street for something, and I'll be right back to get my food. The gentleman says again, "Sit down! Have drink!" Figuring that I might be able to get a good story out of this, I sit down.

He asks, "What you like to drink? We have lots of different beer!" I don't drink, and I'm not really thirsty anyway, so I politely decline. He continues, "No! Come on, man! We trying to be friendly with you! What kind of beer you like?" Not wanting to make a big deal about me not drinking, I just tell him that I'm not really much of a beer drinker, and that I'm really fine. That's not good enough for him. "It OK, man! It on me! You like Heineken? You know what? We have great beer from Thailand, called Sing Ha! Taste just like Heineken! Get this man Sing Ha!"

The kid behind the counter grabs the Sing Ha out of the cooler, opens it, and places it in front of me. Again, every one of the guys looks like they're trying to stifle laughter. I peer at the bottle like I expect Ray Lewis to jump out of it and tackle me at any second. The guy says again, "It taste just like Heineken! Sing Ha! Drink! Drink!" It's at this point that I notice that all three men are drinking actual Heinekens. If Sing Ha is so good, why aren't they drinking it?

Anyway, to get the guy off my back, I take a sip of the Sing Ha, which I now affectionately refer to as Liquid Death. My throat muscles briefly collapsed upon themselves, and I felt my esophagus nearly shift into reverse for a moment. Tears flooded my eyes, but to keep the experience going, I managed to whimper, "That's good!" At this point, everyone else at the counter loses it. Sensing my inability to speak, my host decides to tell me a story.

"You see this restaurant? I just buy this restaurant two months ago! I do lot of hard work to make money for my family in Thailand! I could make thousand dollars, go home to Thailand, and they treat me like king! I am VERY RICH MAN in Thailand, But I stay in America to help family. You know what I do to get out of Thailand and come to America? I tell you."

At this point, I'm wondering if they're really cooking my wife's food or if this place has just become the Thai version of Def Poetry Jam, and they're glad to have a pair of American ears. Anyway, the story continues.

"I have to fight in jungles. People come, start war, try to kill us. I have to fight FOR MY LIFE. While I live in Thailand, I kill two hundred men. I have to kill just to get out. I am like Thailand version of Rambo! Americans, you have your TV show where you live in jungle for a month? What that show? Survivor? It like a game to Americans! I do not live in jungle for million dollars. I live for my life! You play Survivor? I LIVE SURVIVOR."

By now, I can only stare at him with my mouth wide open. I'm totally speechless. This man is drunk. Rambo must have noticed that I wasn't drinking my delicious Sing Ha.

"Hmm. You really not drinker, are you? You not like Sing Ha?" I take another sip and I try so hard to control the resultant internal spasms that I nearly fall off my stool. I manage to croak, "No, no, it's fine." My rescue arrives when a cook brings my wife's food out from the kitchen. I jump up from the stool, pay for the dinner, and prepare to bolt for the door. Rambo stops me. "Wait! You forget your Sing Ha!" I thank him but explain that I shouldn't drink and drive. "OK! Hahaha! You come back anytime, man!"

I never went to that place again.

[JeeberD]

Was just recently reminded of Cam's infamous nut story, so I thought I'd bump this.

I often think of Cam's nuts...

[Neon_Chaos]

I have a short one about my very first summer league basketball game...

I was about 13, IIRC.

I was subbed in during the 2nd quarter, and was playing PF. The opposing team was shooting free-throws, he makes the first one and misses the 2nd. So there I was, in my first game, and I manage to grab the defensive rebound.

In a complete state of shock and complete joy about getting a rebound in my first game, I forget that we were in the opposing side of the floor. So I post up against one of our opponents, and shot the ball into our own hoop.

The entire floor just suddenly became silent. The ref didn't know what to do... and I was dragged back into the bench by my coach.

The best thing about it was that when I went up to shoot the ball, three opposing players jumped up and tried to block my shot.

:)

[Pumpy Tudors]

The best thing about it was that when I went up to shoot the ball, three opposing players jumped up and tried to block my shot.
This part makes the experience twice as good. :D

[Wolfpack]

Couple of "old neighborhood" sports shorts....

There was a circle of friends I hung out with in my neighborhood roughly ranging from a year or two older to a few years younger in age. We played a truckload of sports and played nearly every day if possible, going with the seasons.

Usually, we played basketball at one of two places, my really good friend's house, or the house across the street that had three brothers who we were generally good friends with, but had a rather vicious sibling rivalry going on. Anyway, it's one of those days where we can't scrounge up enough to play a good game of basketball, so we're resorting to silly shooting contests at the first house to pass the time (I recall it was me, my friend Jon--his house, and the oldest brother Ken, maybe another person). We're doing this long-distance shooting contest where we're firing up the ball from the middle of the street, something on the order of a half-court shot. I forget the exact circumstances, but after a while, the heckling starts to pick up as we try to distract the shooter from making his shot. I forget who was shooting at the time, but for some reason I came up with the brilliant insight to blurt out something that totally had nothing to do with basketball or us or anything, right as the shooter let go of the ball. So, the shooter takes his shoot and I bellow at that moment, "MILK BONE!!" This was such an unexpected development that we're all just dying over the next several minutes. Each time someone takes a shot, no one can keep a straight face because no one knows what's going to be yelled next. "ALPO!" "JERKY TREATS!" :D

The other story is that we also played baseball as a group. Sort of. For a long time we actually played Whiffle Ball, but not in the sense anyone here might recognize. We would actually get the bats and balls and then use up rolls of duck tape on them. The balls got taped up to cover the holes and the bats got heavy tape on the barrel to give them some weight. We'd then play baseball with this equipment with some minor rules variations (two outs an inning, overhand slow pitch for more offense, could throw the ball at someone to get them out if you hit them). Anyway, it's "opening day" for playing whiffleball one spring and a few of us head over to the field we play games at. I'd made a brand new bat, trying to be precise about the duck tape application to make sure the bat didn't have much in the way of sponginess to soften any hits. So, we're out at the field and among us is the youngest of the three brothers, Kyle, and Ken, along with a couple of other kids and we're just playing around a bit waiting for others to show up so we can play. I'm at the plate, Kyle's at third, and Ken's out in the outfield somewhere. Kyle, for whatever reason, decides he's going to give me junk and tells me I can't hit it past him and things of that nature. First pitch comes from the kid on the mound and I just absolutely crush it. It was quite possibly the most majestic home run I ever hit. That sumbitch went FAR, especially by whiffleball standards. Next thing I know, Kyle's lifting up his shirt and pulling down his shorts in some sort display of humilation for eating his words. You kinda had to be there. Not long before, I think Albert Belle had gotten busted for a corked bat, so naturally I was being referred to as Albert Belle over the next several games. :D

[WSUCougar]

Next thing I know, Kyle's lifting up his shirt and pulling down his shorts in some sort display of humilation for eating his words.
Uh, yeah. Growing up in suburban Seattle, we didn't display humiliation in quite that way.

But good story. :D

[gkb]

So my wife gives me a call one day at work and tells me I need to buy some children's books for our newborn. I'm fine with that, but I've found that I'm unable to walk into a bookstore and just pick something up any longer. These days I have to go Amazon.com first and look at which books are the bestselling, which books have the most star ratings, and read a bunch of the user reviews.

So while checking out the books at Amazon to try and figure out which ones to buy for our little guy I run across this snippet of a review for "Guess How Much I Love You."

A minor concern: The characters are Little Nutbrown Hare and Big Nutbrown Hare. For those of us with mild dyslexia, it is too easy to refer to them as Little Brown Nut-Hair and Big Brown Nut-Hair, which is very different and considerably changes the tone of the story. I accept that this may be my personal problem, and I don't even believe it is appropriate to share it in in this format.

Needless to say this book was purchased and our son gets to enjoy the story of how much Little Brown Nut-Hair and Big Brown Nut-Hair love each other. My wife and I crack up every time we read it…maybe we're just easily amused.

[Logan]

Always fun to see a thread with a title like this, and the "you've posted in this thread" icon, and not have a clue what you posted...as you carefully scroll through the thread to find what the damage was.

[Schmidty]

Haha.

[WSUCougar]

Always fun to see a thread with a title like this, and the "you've posted in this thread" icon, and not have a clue what you posted...as you carefully scroll through the thread to find what the damage was.
At least the "penis near-transplant" story wasn't yours...

[Chief Rum]

As a part time job, I work as a server at a TGIFriday's. We have to break anyone who is working more than six hours for a half hour. Well, one server last week was over her break time some 15 mins and some of us were complaining about it. One server suggested, "I think she went to Bed, Bath & Beyond", to which another server said, "She must be in Beyond."