» The most childish thing you've done as an adult

Pull my finger
Everyone knows this, right? Well, not quite everyone. One Sunday morning after a curry, I felt a large evil one brewing; the spicy treat-induced internal gurgling we all know presages a seam-ripping eyebrow-singeing bottom belch. My better ( more sensible ) half was reading the paper, as one does normally: I waited until the thing was baying for release- the wolf was right at the door- and extended my delicate paw, index finger foremost. "Would you do me a favour my love?" I asked, in the tones of one requesting the daintiest of sweetmeats from the cake stand. " Sure, what is it?" she queried, all innocence: I couldn't believe my luck. I had never been presented with such an opportunity, and it was not to be missed. "Pull my finger?" I enquired, sugary-voiced. "What?" she did ask. I replied "I just need you to pull my finger, won't take a sec". So, she reached out ( I remember seeing all this in extreme slow motion, like the crash of the Hindenburg ), grasped my proffered digit and, with a slightly puzzled expression, pulled. The vilest, longest, loudest fart I have ever dropped instantly deafened us both and rattled the transom window. I curled up on the floor crying with laughter, as my hapless other's expression remained fixed in puzzlement. I was lucky I didn't follow through.
(Sun 20th Sep 2009, 9:00, More)

» It's not me, it's the drugs talking

Not me, but my grandad
Apparently ( I was three at the time ) my uncle used to brew 'herbal tea' when working in the massive garden at the back of my gran's house. Grandad had no idea his son was a stoner. One afternoon Bob had just brewed a nice pot; Grandad came into the kitchen said " cup of tea? Lovely", drank a pint and rotovated the garden- for eight hours.
(Fri 16th Dec 2005, 14:26, More)

» Stupid Dares

On a medical course
we were at a demonstration of nasogastric aspiration: Mr Tube went down nose & throat, and with the help of Mr Syringe partially digested spaghetti and mash came up. One bright spark bet the instructor £10 he wouldn't then ingest the contents of someone else's guts- he accepted. Cue whip round, £10 in assorted shrapnel appeared; the instructor went a little bit green, realising he would have to go through with it. He swirled the orange-white sludge round a couple of times in the dish, tipped his head back with open mouth, and swallowed the lot in one. Yum. Everyone went white; I feel a little queasy recalling it, 19 years later.
(Thu 1st Nov 2007, 14:46, More)

» In the Army Now - The joy of the Armed Forces

Speech defects
I was a musician; we had a pipe band, with a bass drummer by the name of '2-6' ( three blokes in the band with the same surname, different last two numbers ) who had a bad stutter. In the practice room one morning, the bandmaster's phone rings. 2-6 answers" H-h-hello, b-band block?". The QM, who also has a bad stutter, hangs up. Approximately .26 seconds later he bursts into the block shouting " WHO J-JUST ANS-SWERED THE F-FUCKING PH-PHONE?"
2-6 says " M-me s-sir ". Nobody moved.
It was only a couple of very tense minutes' negotiation that saved him from being marched down to the CO.
(Mon 27th Mar 2006, 18:22, More)

» Best Graffiti Ever

The vilest I ever saw
was at Chorlton Street bus station in Manchester, on the back of one of the cubicle doors:
" Phone 0161 XXX XXXX if you like to shit on fat blokes"
Still makes me shudder...
(Thu 3rd May 2007, 17:56, More)