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This is a question Bad Ideas

"Let's get all the fireworks and pile dog shit on top of them". I can't believe I actually said that, and I still can't believe I was the one who lit them and couldn't run away in time. Tell us about your spectacularly misjudged ideas.

Suggested by Pig Bodine

(, Thu 24 Jul 2014, 13:15)
Pages: Popular, 4, 3, 2, 1

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"Let's Take MDMA and go to a Harvester"
You can probably spot the bad idea here. Those title words were the doom-laden words my mate Flobbo uttered at me one sleepy Tuesday afternoon. And, as the first in a long line of bad ideas, I agreed. The font of my poor decision-making continued to froth and spew as I accepted a couple of pills and a glass of slightly cloudy beer. I threw back the pills and took a sip.

"This beer tastes funny," I said.

"It's Australian," he replied. I shrugged, and downed the drink. "Oh, and probably because I spiked it with a ground-up Viagra pill," he added. My face flushed with terror.

"Exsqueeze me?" I asked.

"Yeah!" he shrugged, and his giant stomach shrugged along with him. "It's called SEXTACY! It's gonna be wizard!" he yelled. I stared at him in horror. What was he planning?

An hour later we presented ourselves at the door of our local Harvester. We were definitely on the way up, and swaying slightly. I could feel my blood start to reassign itself. A young man in a Harvester uniform approached us. To my utter suprise, he offered us a table for two.

"I noshed a bean!" I exclaimed. He gave me a Look.

"Is that a sex thing?" he asked.

"Not in this particular case!" I yelled.

"... I'll show you to your table."

Time passed, and as we approached the salad bar I found it increasingly difficult to contain my excitement. "Sweetcorn AND bacon bits?" I thought to myself, "truly this is a kingly salad bar." I looked over at Flobbo, who was trying to understand a bowl. Shrugging, I prepared my feast. I do not understand how I came to be naked, but resplendent and rigid, I began to ritually daub myself in thousand island dressing as I chanted my own name over and over again in increasingly erotic tones. My moment of triumph grew ever closer as I methodically "probed" each salad offering.

"This one's for the blessed Duchess!" hooted Flobbo as he exultantly shat himself. That was just too much for me, and I yelled Great Heavenly Mustard Michael as I blew up my own end straight into the cloth sections.

And that's how I ended up Assistant Manager of a branch of Lush. It's fucking shit.
(, Wed 30 Jul 2014, 1:00, 6 replies)
Applause for " I could feel my blood start to reassign itself"
and "trying to understand a bowl"
(, Wed 30 Jul 2014, 10:09, closed)
this all seems in order

(, Wed 30 Jul 2014, 12:36, closed)
Fuck off Skagra.

(, Wed 30 Jul 2014, 14:43, closed)
I've never been more insulted
In my entire fucking life.
(, Wed 30 Jul 2014, 15:33, closed)
I too have had difficulty understanding crockery.
This to win.
(, Wed 30 Jul 2014, 16:40, closed)

(, Thu 31 Jul 2014, 10:22, closed)

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