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Tales of the Stupid


Tell a story in which you did something very stupid.

When I was 10 or 11, a friend and I were "diving for distance" in my pool. We strung a water hose across the middle of the pool as a distance goal. We imagined superhuman distances to be achieved and thus reasoned that we should dive from the shallow end of the pool so that we were diving toward the deep end. This way, we would not be heading into the curvature and endo our skulls. Our mental diagram made sense.
So we would get a running start and launch out over the water hose, adjusting it further and further away as we gauged our ability. On one attempt, I did not get a good launch. I was going to land on the water hose. Re-positioning the hose was a pain in the as so I under-shot it so as not to hit it. This made me arc down close enough to graze the crest of my forehead along the pool floor.
I came up from the drink thinking nothing of it. However, my friend had a lot to say with his facial expression. Blood and hair were pouring down my face and into my idiot grin. I had cut open my head in 2 places just above the hairline.
14 stitches later, I continued the foolish decision making by not having my whole head shaved to match my shaved prow with stitch-studded wounds. I still have the scars.

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mid 20s, funeral.

a co-worker passed, an older guy that everyone respected. so 4 of us decided to car pool to the funeral. well, it turns out the guy drives 1hr 30m each way so it was a long ride in the morning. we stop off at a Wawa convenience store and they have 2 for 1 bagel "sizzlis" sandwiches. so 2 it is.... anybody want 1? nope..... so i eat both (uh-oh). they are usually good but this time they were on the greasy side.

we get to the church which already started and sit in the back. immediately after sitting.... i start to sweat. then squirm. im starting to struggle to hold back. i cant move! i hunch over! somethings happening! my stomach lets out a growl....LOUD..... the girl to my right elbows me. i quietly snap back "dont do that!". rocking back and forth now! quietly! i let out Oh GOD!...now those 3 start to giggle... another growl...LOUD.... FIGHTING! HOLDING MYSELF!. RED FACE! SWEATING! JESUS! HELP!... the more i struggle, the more they giggle! they cant stop laughing! i cant stop struggling! the other girl whispers "the bathroom's over there".... i say "if i get up. im shitting everywhere!" they laugh more...the girl next to me says "oh God, we're going to hell" shhhhh! she starts biting her wrist to stop laughing!....im fighting with all my fucking might!....!!! breathing!!! panting!! OH GOD!! finally.... breath! its passing! finally,,, panting slower.... im able to recover!

im able to go up and shake his son's hand and give my condolences. whew!

i was just talking to a coworker recently about funerals and he mentions the particular funeral and says "someone kept farting the whole time!". i was like "i wasnt farting! that was my stomach!, btw where were you sitting?" i ask.... he says "front row"..... so yeah definitely everyone heard.

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LOL! That's rich.

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I can't beat that.

😎

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Age 13ish.

A friend lived on a somewhat steep street. His level planed side yard created an increasing slope of grass that butted up against the street. Driving up the street, that grass slope obscured view of my friend's house until one was right next to the house. In the middle of that side yard was a large tree with a rope hanging from it. We would get on the roof of the house and swing by the rope out over the street right when a car would drive by. We delighted in the memories of the looks on their faces while we wiggled around a few feet above their speeding windshield. I favored an upside-down, Spiderman style pose. Surprisingly, only a few hit the breaks to the point of screeching and only one ever stopped to lecture us (we mimicked that person's speech style mercilessly for a year in memorial jest). None of us ever lost grip over a car and one of us always hid as look-out to signal launch timing or warn of too tall a vehicle.

The very first time I tried this, I had only ever climbed a rope; I had not swung by one. I did not think one needed to grip a knot. After all, Tarzan et all never do, right? A firm grip was all I applied. So, of course, I hopped off the roof and slid down several feet of rope before letting go. My iron grip was not enough for the sudden downward yank of my full weight. The rope burn on my palms and grip of my fingers was of high quality. They looked skinny/glassy and smooth. I couldn't open my hand up more than half way. The pain was mind bending. I ran water over my hands and held ice cubes for hours to put out the invisible fire. Took a week to heal. Then back at it but with wise use of knots.

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