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This is a question Crappy Prizes

Competitions, raffles, give-aways... sure the prizes look great, but don't they always turn out a bit crap should you happen to win them?

The last raffle I bought tickets for, they'd just given away the all-expenses paid weekend in New York when my number came up. Rushing up to find out what I'd won, I was a little disappointed to be handed a box of "Biscuits for Cheese". Especially as they were busy serving the cheese course (complete with biscuits) as they drew the raffle.

(, Thu 4 Aug 2005, 11:16)
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This question is now closed.

Last nite
I lost the game.
(, Wed 10 Aug 2005, 12:47, Reply)
(, Wed 10 Aug 2005, 12:37, Reply)
Alfa Romeo Etching
In 1990, when I was a student and the proud 9ish) owner of an Alfasud (hand painted in Porsche guards Red, brush marks a go go, BOY did that piss off 911 owners), I entered a competition in Street machine for a glass etching kit; lay out the stencil, slap on the goo, give it a bit of time to etch, wash it off and bingo, frosted glass effect logo or whatever.

And I won. Fuck knows how, but a kit to let me put the Alfa Romeo logo on my car glass plopped through the door.

So i thought I'd put it on the screen, top centre. And it worked! But did I wash it off thoroughly enough? oh no.

And did i leave a fucking huge cloud effect down the whole cunting screen? Oh yes.

Prizes should be fucktard student proof, say I. For I WAS that fucktarded student.

Girth reference deemed unnecessary.

I know what the fuck I'm on about because I am.....
(, Wed 10 Aug 2005, 12:07, Reply)
Dare Devil Dennis
I won first prize at a school fete by getting the highest score on Dare Devil Dennis. The prize was a giant toblerone, which I left on a table and it was stolen by the mayor to feed to his fat wife.
Apologies that this story sounds like it was lifted from the Beano.
(, Wed 10 Aug 2005, 11:31, Reply)
The first thing I ever won was first prize in a 1987 Encyclopaedia Britannica contest I entered at my local milkbar. Seven years old and the only one who entered, I actually received second prize which was an inflatable world globe. My cat attacked and burst it 10 minutes later. I could have won first prize which was a world fact book, albeit ten years out of date, but the contest organiser had already claimed that one. Fuck you milkbar competition.

Second thing I won was a lovely lockable cashbox at a local school activity day that same year. I was stoked till I found out it was just the cardboard box which once contained said lockbox. What the hell sort of prize is an empty cardboard box?

Heartbroken and bitter, I have never since had the will to enter a competition. Not even the one on here to win a Playstation.
(, Wed 10 Aug 2005, 11:09, Reply)
Up the Scrunge!
Our local pub has a quiz every Sunday, hosted by an old, weird local legend called Stoney.
Every week my mates and I participate as 'Team Scrunge' (Bristolian word for a ladies special part). After a good couple of years of losing and generally taking the piss, one night we finally clicked! (The fact that the 'Name That Song' round was basicly playing bits of a free CD given with the News Of The World that same day was a factor!) We were like drunken University Challenge, every question was answered and low and behold WE WON! We had beat our arch nemesis 'Here for the Beer' (bunch of old twunts who work at the swimming pool! Chlorine smelling bastards!) and were invited to collect out fantastic prize! On going to the bar we received 'Toy Soldiers' on VHS and a certificate with 'Team Scrunch' written on it.

(, Wed 10 Aug 2005, 11:06, Reply)
How an old man made me who I am today.
"Well done, you've won yourself a fantastic prize, young man!" I was told. And following my efforts, I honestly felt I deserved one. Old Mr. Harrison from the farmhouse nearby was pleased with my paint-work and I was proud of what I'd done. His wife had been dead for 15 years and he was lonely and debilitated. Yet his 89 year-old eyes had retained the wicked sparkle that had won the former Mrs. Harrison's heart all those years ago. He led the way up the dirt track toward the rickety, ancient barn where he had conceived his only child back in '53, and as he walked ahead I observed the way his buttocks moved independently of one another, and his bow-legged gait had my imagination working overtime. Oh, Mr. Harrison, you tease!

We were within metres of the barn's dark entrance when the rain came, unexpectedly and fiercely, beating down on us as though God Himself was trying to wash away my sinful thoughts. But God had reckoned without my umbrella of unshakeable lust. The spear-like streaks of rain turned the buttercups inside-out, and the flowers all cried out like a chorus of jaundiced monkey foetuses begging for death. Mr. Harrison picked up the pace a little, flailing his besleeved arms to try and gain momentum.

Inside the barn, the damp, musty smell hit the back of my throat like a squid that had been flung against the bonnet of a Ford Cortina by an enraged Maltese girl, forcing me to drop to my knees. I vomited for a good fifteen minutes while my aged companion sat on a bail of old hay, sweetly blowing into his harmonica. The sound of the harmonica caused me to roll involuntarily onto my back where I lay, twitching like an erotic dung beetle. I managed to bring myself to my feet, but my vision was terribly blurred and I wandered around the barn like a Romanian child forced to live on a diet of elbows for all of its sorry, short life. I finally found the barn's entrance again and fled from it into the damp field. The rain continued, only hindering my vision further. I slipped, fell and slid, screaming a sort of desperate sexual hymn all the way down the dirt track and back to the farmhouse. The farmhouse wall finally broke my slide, and I let out an angry, cat-like grunt as my body struck the damp brickwork like a bag of Pringle socks against a child's thigh. Mr. Harrison found me some hours later, cowering behind the horse trough, weakened and shaking like a freshly-raped dog. It was then that he gave me my prize: the old harmonica. His saliva was still dripping from it. I lapped it up hungrily.

Mr. Harrison died only days later, although when I play that old harmonica I can sometimes feel his hot breath against my scrotum.
(, Wed 10 Aug 2005, 9:21, Reply)
hooray for me.
Not really a first prize or competitions per say...

I'm a person who, as some of you may know, after early-life altercations with small power-tools has developed a joy for body-piercing. Early this year I got a Pubic piercing done. I'd previously had it done as a 1.6mm, but, as pubics generally do (around 50% of the time), it grew out. THIS time, I had it done as a 2.4mm (added stability, longer healing time, but greater chance of success), and all was going well til a Friend accidentally booted it on a Stag weekend. Much blood etc. ARSE.

Anyhoo.. Last week, enough was enough, and it WAS healing, but in the wrong place: I took it out. There'll always be another time I can do it.
The healing period... requires Zero shagging. My missus was getting SERIOUSLY pissed. Suddenly I find myself pubic-less and with nothing that can be damaged. Wake up with the horn, wake up the missus (with the horn) and we get Jiggy. It's been a LONG time, and the missus has grown un-accustomed, thus, Lube is required. Mmmm smooth, slippery water-based joy.

1 hour later.... (oh alright.. 15 minutes)... I'm hoping off the bed, hauling on the trollies and trousers and rushing to the car.... late for work due to gratuitous shaggage. Sorted.

Basking in the after-glow I negate to clean off the Lube, but hell If the german fisting-team can use it to insert fully grown midgets into thier bung-holes, then It won't hurt me... right?


...And annoyingly, due to an identical act of un-cleanlyness I DID know it already, but I'd just forgotten.

First Prize for making my missus' year is a Peeling bell-end and foreskin combo that itches and glows red in the dark.

"dermitalogically tested" (yeah.. on Rhinos)

(, Wed 10 Aug 2005, 7:54, Reply)
the author must be psychic
Back in 1987, I had scored some ridiculous high number on a standardized academic test. So a few months later (mid-1988 now) I got to go to some fancy awards ceremony being held in the next state over. This involved sitting around in uncomfortable clothes for about a million hours while the other thousand kids with high scores go up on stage one by one to collect a prize. Some people got a book of logic puzzles-- and that was the good prize. Others, like I, got a book whose name escapes me but the premise was it was a "history" of the next 20 years in America. Mind you, this was meant to be "accurate" and "non-fiction," not some sci-fi alternate reality thing.

This looks as interesting as dry toast to a 14-year-old girl, so I toss it aside for about a year. Then the summer of 1989 comes around and I've nothing to do, so I get it out, dust it off and crack the cover. The very first thing that happens: It's November 1988, and Gary Hart has just been elected President of the United States.

I put it back down.
(, Wed 10 Aug 2005, 6:34, Reply)
Me and some of my more geeky friends went to a cross-school tech-a-thon last year. Besides highschool level coding competitions (Java, HTML, VB...all to be coded with no restriction for reference) they had this little thing while scores were being calculated where you need to fill in blanks on this little worksheet. Luckly one of the guys I was with had a laptop and the place had a public wi-fi so we quickly googled everything up.

No doubt we were one of the winners (after being accused of cheating....which we werent, since rules said 'find answers by any means possible') so we got called up to get our gifts......

this piece of #*@$& Microsoft Office branded radio

It only has controls to turn it on, skip to the next station and then rewind to the beginging of the band. If that was still decent set of features on a keychain radio, it refused to pick anything up. I used the carabiner for my keychain and my friends used the headphones as temps somewhere. I still keep it for no reason along with other crap here. I did nick the Java competition booklet with the questions from the place though, and since their problems don't change, I can use it as a study guide for next year...bonus

On the not crappy note I won StarCraft several years ago at a Bar Mitzvah. Dunno where it went, but it's still a kickass game and one of those few I still play(ed) in the spare time.
(, Wed 10 Aug 2005, 4:51, Reply)
The Geography Champion
In elementary school, every year we had a geography bee, which was basically a test of who knew the most random facts about locations of countries and seas.

But anyways, after three rounds of competition, I was in the finals, which I quickly won. I was on top of the world (ha...) and I greatly anticipated being showered with confetti, photographs, and lucrative prizes. Sadly, the first two did not happen, but I was presented a prize... which happened to be a world atlas.

Has there ever been a more redundant prize? It was like winning a hot dog eating contest, only to be presented with more hot dogs. Pitiful.

My balls are huge.
(, Wed 10 Aug 2005, 4:42, Reply)
Spelling Bees
I was in grade school and got entered into a spelling bee by my teacher because I scored well on a spelling test. I didn't want to be there but there I was. After a couple of brutal days of eliminations, I finally got put away and that was the end of the contest.

A couple of days later I received the plaque in the mail and was surprised to see that the judges (or whoever made up the plaque) had misspelled my name! How ironic is that? I kept that around for a while as a conversation piece until I got old enough to figure out that it wasn't really impressing the girls.
(, Wed 10 Aug 2005, 4:00, Reply)
I won a big pile of stickers that said things like "say NO to sexual harassment" and "if someone is asleep, passed out or too drunk to answer, take it as a NO" from a maths competition for nerd children.
(, Wed 10 Aug 2005, 2:33, Reply)
In 1980 (ish)
I won a car windscreen sun visor thing emblazoned with an advert for 'Popeye: The Movie'
(, Wed 10 Aug 2005, 2:28, Reply)
Novelty Passport
In my early teens I left my passport on a bus while on holiday in Turkey, so the kind staff at the resort we were at mocked me up a giant version with ruckstrap style straps so I couldn't lose it (do you see??!!) and presented it to me in front of all the guests at dinner.

Cnuts thought it was funny, though, funnily enough being humiliated in front of a hundred or so people, including the girl I had a desperate crush on, at a stage of my life where I was in a more or less permanent state of embarrasment anyway, was about as funny as bowel cancer.
(, Wed 10 Aug 2005, 0:12, Reply)
Heyup captainsteve
Thanks for clearing the meg mog thing up, i share you hatred and blame it for my hatred of cats jus grrr at it
(, Tue 9 Aug 2005, 22:27, Reply)
streettite cnts.
aged 6 i put 4 weeks creative energy into fancy dress costume of the devil for h.m.queen's golden jubilee street party. no mean feat given the lack of fancy dress resources in 1977. naturallly "his satanic majesty" won said competition. choice of prizes: a 50p plastic football or a mini airfix wwii german frigate. fkin chuffed. right tight cnts on r'street.
(, Tue 9 Aug 2005, 21:25, Reply)
As Nerd From Hell
I have the great honour of being a previous winner of Northumberlands coveted U-18's Chess Championship.The atmosphere was tense, the crowd was restless, and there was only 2 entrants. I mentally pounded my fearsome(yet only opponent) only to find out that last years winner had 'sold' the huge trophy, and I got a crappy plasticated shield thing instead. Tw@t.
(, Tue 9 Aug 2005, 21:00, Reply)
When I was much smaller
I found that I could play the piano pretty well ... not claiming to be a mozart or anything but I got something like 97 out of 100 for my first piano exam which was the best in the south of england that year... which meant i had the honour of playing to a large hall of musically inclined people, with the promise of a prize for my troubles.

Being the first exam I wen't first and had to sit through the rest of the grades (which also meant longer and longer pieces of music) until I could go up to the podium and collect the white envelope with my name on it. The tension was unbearable having waited so long, and not being able to open it until I got outside, I used xray vision to view the multi zeroed check that famous musicians receive for concert recitals... obviously I was lacking in super human skills, and the 2 pound (yes that is a two) boots voucher was not the payment i deserved.

I gave it too my mum, not even wanting the money - thats how low value I placed on the prize, and couldnt be bothered with the other exams if thats all you got.
(, Tue 9 Aug 2005, 20:28, Reply)
won my own weight in diamonds

Lena Zavaroni
(, Tue 9 Aug 2005, 19:54, Reply)
Quack Shot
I once won the "Suicidal Bravery" award at Croft-on-Tees paintball for "doing everyting you're not supposed to do and somehow winning" including charging the opposition camp and forcing 5 players to surrender whilst completely out of ammo.

The prize.... a yellow plastic duck (which I gave to the g/f)

I also won a bottle of Salad Cream in a raffle.. woot!

Apologies for being sick of length innuendos
(, Tue 9 Aug 2005, 19:23, Reply)
I won a night in a plush hotel in the centre of Leeds
I had just moved into a flat less than 3 minutes away. By foot.
(, Tue 9 Aug 2005, 19:13, Reply)
not me happen to my buddy's woman. A competition at a restaurant chain to sell the most beer, the winner would recieve a toyota. The winning waitress was lead outside blindfolded to the parking lot where she found a toy yoda. A small toy of yoda from Star Wars. Heard she was going to court about it...sucks
(, Tue 9 Aug 2005, 18:34, Reply)
freshman year
I won "most likely to wake up with someone he doesn't know" at the end-of-year dinner for my freshman hall. I was the first annual recipient. I think the prize was a box of cheap condoms.
(, Tue 9 Aug 2005, 18:07, Reply)
school disco
a copy of 'Donald, Where's Yer Trousers?' on 7" vinyl.
I don't think I even needed to dance or anything, I guess I'm just one of life's weiners winners
(, Tue 9 Aug 2005, 16:49, Reply)
Return of the Reveller.
I've told this story on a previous question of the week.

I won a weekend away for two at a travel lodge in Bolton. Bolton FFS! And I lived in Wigan (about 4 miles away) at the time. Cheers Bass breweries. The local rag did a piece on me and my prize and called me 'Wigan Reveller', great. I lived that one down in a hurry.
(, Tue 9 Aug 2005, 16:29, Reply)
First thing I ever won was a competition in woolies for a New Kids on the Block tape and video. Wooh!

A prize only matched by the giant tin of spam type meat with egg in the middle which I won at a tombola. Never did find out what it was exactly as the label was in Czech.
(, Tue 9 Aug 2005, 16:24, Reply)

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