» Pointless Experiments

As a young child...
...most comedy is either cartoon or slapstick based. This obviously includes the classic 'stepping on a rake' gag.

I must have been around 6 or 7 and was alone in the garden. There was also a rake on the ground. Now I wasn't a stupid child, I knew I didn't want to be cracked in the face by a metal pole, but I still wanted to test this theory.

I figured that if I trod on it lightly I could control it's rise and stop it short of my face. Of course, it didn't pan out as I had planned and upon standing on the rake, managed to thrust the metal pole, directly onto my forehead, perfectly between my eyes. Messrs Hanna and Barbera would have been pround. I was down like a lead balloon and cried excessively.

Length? From the ground to my head in half a second.
(Sun 27th Jul 2008, 0:46, More)

» Unexpected Nudity

Willy Dance
I had successfully repressed this memory until reading some of these answers. Cheers b3ta.

During Year 6 the whole year was treated, and I use that term loosely, to a week-long trip to the Isle of Wight. “A whole week with my mates and no parents. This will be brilliant” thought a small 9-year old Martin. If only I’d known the horrors I’d be subject to on that small island.

The place we went to was an adventure holiday kind of place. Everyone stayed in log cabins and it was very cool to a bunch of young kids. I was rooming with 2 of my best mates, Tom and Jonathon, and 3 other kids we were stuck with, Jon, Daniel and Mark. Jon and Daniel were the “naughty kids” and I was a bit gutted but trying to make the most of it, we had tried to befriend them before the trip. As for Mark, no-one really liked him. He was a bit weird and always seemed to picking either his nose or his bum.

Kids being kids, we had all packed a ton of sweets for some epic midnight feasts. We’d even developed a code to be quiet when a teacher was coming. “Lie low!” I’d shout when I saw someone. No it wasn’t hard to understand what we were saying, but it could have also sounded like we were playing aquatic transport charades.

It was the first night and we began our feast. Smarties, Skittles, Chocolate, anything. If it had sugar in, we were eating it. It was late, but due to the fact we were all around 8 or 9, it was probably only about 10pm. We were all on a sugar high and running round the rooms and screaming our pre-pubescent heads off. This was fun. This was what I’d hoped it would be; a bunch of guys being awesome.

The night took a turn for the worse when Mark started having ideas with what to do with the night. We all ignored him and he retreated to his room. Minutes later, the door burst open, and he was standing there, fully naked, as God had intended. It was at this point, God realised he had made a huge fucking mistake. The rest of us were aghast, trying not to make eye contact with eachother, him or ‘Little Mark’. This effectively became impossible when he walked to mere feet in front of us, started bouncing around, and began singing. To give credit to Mark, his choice of song could not have been more apt. As I recall, the lyrics were something like, “Willy dance! Willy dance! I’m doing the willy dance!” Fuck me if I’ve never been so frightened in my life. We all scrambled as far back as we could, but even the wall still left us within what seemed range of a cock slap.

Eventually we managed to shout at him loud enough and long enough for him to stop. We sent him back to his room and made for God damn sure he didn’t come out for the rest of the night. This fun cabaret was then followed by me being sick. Whether it was through me being homesick, eating too much sugar, or physically trying to remove the memories of what I’d just witnessed I don’t know. What I do know is that this was never talked about afterwards by any of the parties involved. I’m not sure if it was an unsaid pact of silence, or us all just trying to convince ourselves that this horrific act had never happened.

Length? He was 8. It was small.
(Fri 29th May 2009, 0:06, More)

» Darwin Awards

Fireworks
Last year, whilst at Uni, I was at a house party as the guest of one of the students living there. As there were 5 other students in this house, there were a lot of people. It being early November, someone had decided to bring some explosion-themed entertainment for us all in the form of some rockets.

Everyone was drinking and laughing and there was no trouble, which is always nice at a house party. It was time for the fireworks. They were planted safely in the garden, perhaps not as far away as should be but we weren't stupid and we all stood as far back as we could. They were lit and we waited for the light show to begin. The fuse was burning down and as I'm sure you all know, there is a slight gap between when the fuse stops and the rocket launches. The fuse stopped, there was a gap, the rocket went off. However, it didn't leave the ground. There was a moment of the rocket "rocketing" but not going anywhere and the beautiful sight of everyone realising, "Shit. Fuck. Errr..." BANG! There was no time to run so there were a good 50 students in the garden, each staring an exploding rocket in the face. How not one person was injured I do not know. After the everyone had recovered from the shock, there was laughter, swearing swiftly followed by more drinking.

Who says students are reckless? And as for length, the Onosecond didn't last long enough to register before the rocket blew.
(Thu 19th Feb 2009, 1:05, More)

» Pubs

Worst first impression ever.
This is loosely based on pubs but I'm told it's entertaining so I'll post it here for your reading pleasure.

Basically, it was Jane's (name changed as I'm still trying to hit that but if she does read it, she'll know it's me), who I'd known for nearly two weeks, birthday and she was having people over hers. I was invited, and as I liked her I was definitely going to go.

No-one else I knew was going so I thought, "Right, before I go, a quick drink at the pub to grease the old charm muscles". This quickly turned into three. So anyway, I leave the pub (told you it was loose), get there, but not feeling drunk, probably due to the bitter coldness and the 20 minute walk there.

So, I get there and me being me, I'm on time, or to everyone else, early. This of course means that the girls aren't ready. Luckily some of her mates from home are there and we crack on with a bit of PES. Having taken a bottle of vodka and some lemonade, I am in need of a glass. The only thing they have is one of those shitty small plastic cups. I make do.

I drink quickly at the best of times but with a small glass and not knowing anyone, I may have drunk slightly quicker than normal. Once we stopped playing PES, stuff happened that I don't remember. I remember talking to Jane in the kitchen at some point but can't remember around this incident.

Next thing I know I'm running upstairs towards the toilet. It's there, I can see it, I head towards the door when I can't keep it in any longer and I throw up on the carpet. Shit. Damage control. No-one's here, grab some toilet roll and do as best you can to clean it up.

Ok, so far so good, you're not doing too badly. Then Jane's housemate sees me. Said housemate, I have been informed since, gets angry quickly. She tells me to get out but I'm adamant to clean up, I'm trying to be nice. She continues to tell me to get out, and not wanting a slap, I head downstairs. Next thing I remember I'm outside with Jane who's telling me I shouldn't come out. I naturally agree. I should also mention at this point that it can't be far gone 11pm. Time to go home. I'm accompanied most of the way home but some of Jane's friends but since talking to her about this she's adamant that there was no-one with me. I didn't even know it was possible to hallucinate from alcohol.

From this point on all my memories have been recounted to me by my housemates. I walk in the door and collapse on the sofa. My housemates are playing SingStar. "Fucking ace!" I think and I'm determined to sing along. Unfortunately my angel-like harmonies are disrupted by my dry heaving. One of my housemates tries to get me to go to bed but I'm convinced I'll be better off on the sofa. My memory comes back when I awake at around 5am. I head upstairs and fall back asleep in my bed. I wake up at a time since forgotten but suffering the worst Hangover [capitalised for it was definitely such a bad hangover it deserves to be nounified] I've ever had. It was so bad, I considered going to hospital.

And that is the story of my worst first impression ever.
(Fri 6th Feb 2009, 2:46, More)

» Cringe!

One of my best mates...
One of the guy in our year's dad had just died of a stroke. Likeable guy so everyone was a bit down, standing outside in near silence. His girlfriend was crying, huddled with some of her friends in a circle. The mood, as to be expected, was awful.

Joe was unaware of this unfortunate passing and, due to his habit of coming in late, bounced in, pushed into the circle and proclaimed "Cheer up! Who's died!?"

Even I want to die when I remember it. I can't even imagine how he felt.
(Fri 28th Nov 2008, 12:22, More)