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IHateSprouts tells us they once avoided getting caught up in an IRA bomb attack by missing a train. Tell us how you've dodged the Grim Reaper, or simply avoided a bit of trouble.

(, Thu 19 Aug 2010, 12:31)
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Went out shopping for a mother's day gift, wasn't I a good boy.

Bit peckish as it's getting towards lunchtime, popped into Boots and got plastic sandwich and a bottle of Lucozade. (Other energy drinks are available.)

Got outside, and there's bloody old people all over every available bench, so I sit on the edge of a bin outside the shop, scoff my sarnie, and then dawdle off to get the bus home.

When I get home about 30 minutes later, I discover from the newsflashes that an IRA bomb has gone off. There's a kid dead. Turns out the big bomb was outside Boots. In a bin.

(PS. Three years later I missed the big Docklands bomb by a slightly more comfortable six hours. Pretty sure I didn't actually sit on that one, either.)
(, Fri 20 Aug 2010, 8:51, Reply)
Found a drawer of live bullets once
(Circa 1982 aged 10) ... me and a friend went "exploring". We found ourselves in some blokes shed which was full of dust and old crap.

We had a quick rifle through it and stumbled across a drawer full of live bullets. It's too long ago to remember the size of them but they weren't too large and we filled our pockets with them.

We made our way back to my mates long garden (and parent-less house), then proceeded to place them on a brick and hit them with a hammer. (Pointing away from us - we weren't stupid!)

I recall it took quite a big hit with the hammer to get the little buggers to go off but off they went with a very satisfyingly loud bang.

Being 10, we inevitably got caught by parents who were remarkably pragmatic about it.
(, Fri 20 Aug 2010, 8:38, 3 replies)
Stupidity ..
Once at a party when I was pissed out of my pants I climbed out of the window and onto a scaffold. I then walked around on the scaffold and climbed the ladders until I was at the top level of the scaffold, about four floors above the ground. I then carefully made my way up a slanting roof and onto a level roof. As anticipated, it was a nice view from there, but I had to take it one step further and climb an unused chimney as well. Sitting on the chimney was like sitting on the top of the world.

When climbing back down from the chimney, still dead drunk, I slipped and started sliding down the slanting roof. By pure reflex, I grabbed to the left and got hold of some brick. The sobering was instant. I then slowly made my way back up to relative safety and carefully climbed back down to the party.

I can't believe how incredibly stupid and pointless the whole thing was.

Here's a sketch from memory since I'm not very good at explaining architectural details:

(, Fri 20 Aug 2010, 8:33, 7 replies)
High school sweetheart
is now pregnant with her third child.

Dodged a bullet there!
(, Fri 20 Aug 2010, 7:49, 2 replies)
I used to be a traffic warden in chelsea.
Sorry but I had to feed my wife and kids, it was only a job, I know I will rot in hell for it.

Anyway one day I was on patrol around Knightsbridge and usually had a look in Edinburgh gate to scare a delivery driver or two off, then skive along south carraige drive to get out of doing work.
However this one day I couldn't be bothered and walked along knightsbridge.

Got about 100 yards and BOOM. It was the IRA bomb that killed the horses in hyde park going off.

Anyway rushed back to the traffic lights and with 2 other wardens kept the traffic moving against the lights to get the police and ambulances through.

Left soon after, didn't fancy any more of that.

Sorry not a funny post.
(, Fri 20 Aug 2010, 7:36, 6 replies)
I decided to leave uni early today
I'm glad I did, because it was nice and sunny when I walked home, but now it's absolutely pissing it down.
(, Fri 20 Aug 2010, 6:25, 1 reply)
My wonderful mother and her friends
We were at the local pool one sunny afternoon in my hometown. I was young about 6 or 7ish.

So they all decide that it would be a great idea if i was to put my waterwings onto my ankles.

Flash forward to me jumping into said pool and proceeding to drown...

Not such a good idea mum!

Bless her
(, Fri 20 Aug 2010, 5:44, 3 replies)
After a few beverages (not too many) at dinner, I thought I would be right to drive home. In the car I was carrying 4 verrry pissed mates.

Nearing one of my passengers place, in the rear view mirror I see the fuzz.
"Good Evening, Sir"
"Good Evening Officer"
"Any drinks tonight?"
"A few"
"Breathe into this"

Of course I blew over. Now just as the policeman was about to ask me to step out of the vehicle. My mate jokes how his Dad is a copper.
The policeman leans into the window and says:
"Hello Son" , laughs, tells me not to do it again and to follow him to the house we are aiming for.

PS: I have never drink drove since. Scared the Bejesus out of me.
(, Fri 20 Aug 2010, 5:13, 1 reply)
In 1975, 3 mates and I stumbled upon and consequently,
borrowed, approximately 4kgs of certain hemp like plant material growing in a secluded area of bushland. This was in the mid 70s, near Griffith in New South Wales.
Some time later we discovered that the property was owned by a Mr. Robert Trimbole.

(, Fri 20 Aug 2010, 3:48, 5 replies)
my middle daughter who was 12 at the time
was mauled by a koala, I got it off her by punching it - the next day same koala attacked a woman and she lost an eye.

(, Fri 20 Aug 2010, 3:38, 3 replies)
my missus was booked in for dinner at Raja's in Kuta Square on October 1st 2005
her and her mate got so pissed in the afternoon they fell asleep on the beach - they didn't hear about the bombings until the next day.
(, Fri 20 Aug 2010, 3:23, Reply)
Last one i promise
I was born blind and didn't see till 6 months old. My sister walked passed me and my eyes followed, that was lucky.
(, Fri 20 Aug 2010, 0:13, Reply)
Just remembered
when i was a baby, I was left in my mums car on my own, and the car caught fire. I was rescued by by godmother.
(, Fri 20 Aug 2010, 0:12, Reply)
One of many "Oh shit" moments on two wheels..
Coming home from work on my bike (Honda CB400 at the time) like any other January evening on a quiet two lane B road, I approach a tractor ahead and prepare to overtake.. Mirror, signal, position, speed, look, all good, take another look over my shoulder as I start to move right and good thing I did because the car behind chose to ignore my signal, position etc and force it's way past.

I managed to straighten up within inches of being reduced to mincemeat and gravy with a car on one side and a tractor on the other. (When I say inches I mean if I'd had a full english that morning I wouldn't have fitted in the space I found myself occupying, more like millimetres)

I followed the car for about 7-8 miles (it was going my way) then I saw it pull in at the next village. I decided to follow for a "chat" about what had transpired. I didn't approach, just calmly stopped nearby yet she wouldn't even get out of the car until she'd sent her daughter to fetch her husband LOL.

Turns out I had more to fear from her than her husband, she went fucking psycho! Realising I was wasting my breath and was in fact likely to be attacked by this raging dragon whore of a woman I opted to go home and get drunk as opposed to spending the weekend in a cell on account of putting my boot where it so rightly belonged. (In her fanny)

Another point of interest which I realised later (while scraping the shit out of my socks) was that this happened on Friday the 13th! (2006)

Moral of the story, menopausal psycho dragonesses are fucking dangerous behind the wheel and woe betide anyone who tries to call them to account on the matter. Take care my fellow road users.
(, Fri 20 Aug 2010, 0:12, 2 replies)
I got told a story about a relative of mine the other day
He was in world war 1 and got shot through the side of his head behind the eyes and out the other side, but survived, Obviously he was unconcious and the people who came to collect the wounded almost left him because they thought he was dead. Luckily one of the people double checked and he survived... phew.
(, Fri 20 Aug 2010, 0:09, Reply)
Falling Off The Cliff
My friends and I were once hiking off-trail, descending the western slopes of the Sandia Mountains in New Mexico, USA, when our path was blocked by the edge of a cliff. The cliff wasn't terribly tall - maybe 15 or 20 feet - but the base was littered with boulders, cacti, and lance-like yuccas and agaves. So, if you fell, it probably wouldn't be the luxury of death, but it would be the agony of broken bones and getting bayonetted, for sure.

My friends began searching for a way down towards the left. I thought it was too dangerous that way. I started whining about the risk and began inching out towards the right.

Suddenly, I lost my balance. Gravity snatched me off the cliff, and I started falling. So, bracing my legs against the cliff face, I leaped! I was just able to manage flying into a ponderosa pine tree growing near the cliff base. Apart from a scratch on my ribs, I was fine.

Looking up and seeing me fly over, my friends said "so, you think what we are doing is risky?"
(, Fri 20 Aug 2010, 0:06, Reply)
A few years back, I was on the way up to the Lakes with a mate. Said mate was rather well known for owning one crap second hand car after another, and seemed to have a different one every week. On this particular occasion, I think the offending vehicle may have been an aging Nissan Micra. He was also well known for not having the greatest of regards for speed limits. And so we were driving along a country road, at night, and rather fast, when without any warning the electrics failed.
I have spent nights in parts of Africa and South America that are many miles from the nearest cities or streetlights. But I have never experienced such darkness, or been so convinced I was about to die, as that moment of hurtling along in a car with no lights.
Thankfully the power came back seconds later, and we pulled over until we'd stopped shaking. Even today I still get a bit nervous if I'm driving anywhere with him.
(, Thu 19 Aug 2010, 23:55, 6 replies)

I got umm just a bit drunk (1 1/2 bottles of wine and 3 stella's) before school my excuse on meeting my headmaster? I'd had some bad scampi for breakfast....pretty shit excuse :/
(, Thu 19 Aug 2010, 23:28, 3 replies)
Feet and knives.
My feet seem to attract knives, on no less then 3 seperate occasions I have narrowly avoided impailing my foot.

I was aged around 7, playing with my new toy, a Swiss army knife. (I don't know why I was allowed it, I was and am as clumbsy as a drunk kitten.) I was sat in the shed, converted into a play house, and had my shoes off, I was dropping the knife into a cardboard box point first to make it stick in. Then I had a bright idea, "I'll drop it side ways so the blade cuts in!"

The knife dropped, hit the box, and being heavier at the handle then the blade, it spun back over itself, and towards my little foot. Physics may not have been on my side, but luck was, the blade stuck up from between two of my toes, unbelivably, slipping between a gap you can't even see through, no damage to me.

Just starting my second year of uni, I got a new magnetic knife rack, with new, sharp knives. Unpacking, I showed it to a house mate, who when having a look, demonstrated his stupidity by moving the rack, complete with knives, violently towards himself. Blades began to wobble, I grabbed it back to stop him hurting himself, only for one of the knives to fall. I stepped back quickly, anouther knife fell, anouther step back, anouther knife. By the time it stopped, only two short knives were left on the rack, I had my back to the wall, legs spread far appart and three knives were stuck point first in the floor, and one lay on it's side having left a gash in the carpet.

Last year, doing the dishes in my parents house, I place a large knife in the drainer. My mam's knives are pretty high quality, the the blade and handle are molded together in the steel, making them sturdy and heavy. She also sharpens them every outher week, making them razor sharp. Putting anouther item in the drainer, which manages to knock the knife from it's place. I hardly saw it, just a shape darting in my periferal vision, yet my body was three steps ahead of my brain. Ever played a video game with a quick dodge button, the type that makes you nimbly dodge out of harms way? It was like that. I somehow was 3 feet back from where I had been stood, knife stuck in the lino floor, wobbling comicaly, dead center of where my right foot had been seconds earlier.
(, Thu 19 Aug 2010, 23:23, Reply)
My Dad fell asleep on a lilo...
drifted out to sea in Cyprus. Before I was born, they did two tours in Cyprus. Mum realised what was happening and swam out to get him. on the way back they realised they had no energy left and were about to fall into the soft embrace of the sea.. Mum held Dad's hand and they sank to the sea bed then pushed off with their feet at an angle, ending up a little bit nearer the shore than they had been. Rinse and repeat, ad nauseam, until they could touch bottom.
Now that is love. And fucking lucky. Mum said they were so tired they couldn't stand or hardly see when they got out of the water.
Given that I wasn't even a twinkle in my Dad's nutsack in 1967, that was a pretty narrow escape for me, too.
(, Thu 19 Aug 2010, 22:34, Reply)
I've been wracking my brains trying to think what my true answer to this would be (there is, after all, the time I set fire to myself..) and it's just come to me in a life-flashing-before-your-eyes sort of way.

About 15 years ago I went to 'do' the Greek islands with my mate, but was fortunate enough to get talking to a beautiful girl by the luggage carousel in Athens airport, and she chose to tag along with us. By the end of the first night it was obvious that we would be together for a while (which we were). Dave, my mate at the time (last seen doing 'the knowledge' in '98, bless him) put up with this pretty well and we all had a good laugh travelling together.

A few days later she had some friends she wanted to meet on Antiparos, and we were staying on neighbouring Paros. So we got the boat over one morning and met them all. After a while Zoe (for that was her name) suggested that we took a long walk hand in hand round the bay. Lovely.

So about 40 minutes later, we got to the other side of the bay (you know what a bay looks like, but for the hard-of-imagined, think of it shaped like a crescent). Spent some tender moments together, then she suggests that insteading of walking back to the others at the beginning of the bay, we take the direct 'crows fly' route and swim back across, saving precious holiday time.

I am not a good swimmer, and vast expanses of water are my personal 'thing',
but the sex had been so good I really couldn't say to her at that point 'Er, no, you carry on love, I'll find a taxi' without having to take a massive hit in the manliness stakes.

Seriously, I have trouble having a bath.

So we both dived in. My first mistake was being too energetic with a front crawl meant to impress (imagine Ian Curtis without his meds in a municipal pool) but I soon tired of this. Peeking up out of the water for the first time since the dive in, I realised that the net distance of about 20m had taken a minute, and there was still a long way to go. Some nice easy breaststroke (fnarr) for a bit, and there's some progress made, and we get to the midway point, at which point all my energy has gone, coupled with a slight current pulling us off course thats not helping either. I flipped on my back and started sculling just to conserve energy, but panic had started to set in a little bit, and there was no touching the bottom of the seabed. I tried vey hard to keep cool, but I'd be lying if I didn't admit it showed that I was cacking it.

I think I can safely say that's the only time my life has really ever flashed in front of my eyes. Of course I made it back in the end, half dead, snot over my face, and then threw up in front of her and her mates on the beach.

Still we were together four years after that, so it wasn't all bad.

(Click if you'd like to hear how randomly I set myself on fire....)
(, Thu 19 Aug 2010, 22:15, 5 replies)
sneezing fits..... don't you just hate 'em!?!?!
I started with a really bad sneezing fit one night around 2am, probably due to the sodding dust in that cramped space!

I totally panicked, I'd spent months being as quiet as a mouse, but I started sneezing and couldn't stop no matter what I tried!

We had half the German army practically right outside my house and here I am, making such a racket in the dead of night when you could pretty much hear a pin drop...

Thankfully, no-one knocked on the door, so we were safe, but God it was a close one!!!
(, Thu 19 Aug 2010, 22:02, Reply)
Actually that last post was a total lie...
there is no way I'd be able to nick shoes from outside shops even with one leg.. I'm a bird with fucking size nine feet. Have you ever seen ladies' size nine shoes on display?? Unless you were in a Drag Queen Shop??
(, Thu 19 Aug 2010, 21:31, 8 replies)
Aged about 10
My sister and I had had a huge argument. Neither of us can remember what it was about but I had pissed her off enough for her to think sticking a gigantic needle in my mattress of my bunk bed was good enough retaliation (think those huge carpet needles carpet fitters tend to use) So she stuck it in my bed and there it sat....for about 3-6 months. she cant remember how long it was there but enough time passed for her to completely forget it was there.
That was until we were playing a game with our friends where you had to climb up on the top bunk, jump down on to a mattress, climb up the ladder and repeat (the game was called "keep the kettle burning" for reasons I cant even imagine) We had all been playing for a while, climbing across my mattress right at the spot that the needle sat...waiting.
It got to my sisters turn and we all heard an almighty scream. She had knelt right on the needle and there it was, sticking out of her knee cap with only a few milimeters sticking out the top. I screamed and ran for my parents and was taken to a neighbours house as I was too in shock to hear my sister scream in a way that chilled me to the very bone. My dad managed to get it out and aparently (according to doctors) she avoided knackering her knee cap by less than a centimeter. Soon after the incident the truth came out that she had planted the needle there and intented for it to stab me squarely in the buttocks.
Length? About 2 inches in, 4 mm out. But hey, at least it wasnt my arse!
(, Thu 19 Aug 2010, 21:19, 2 replies)
I narrowly avoided...
being able to nick just the one shoe from outside shoe shops..
by having a great flatmate who told me to go back to the Doctor's when my foot infection wouldn't heal.. I was going to wait another couple of days to finish the course of antibiotics.

Doc took one look at it, spotted the early stages of gangrene and sent me straight to Hospital.

Cheers Doc. He used to smoke in front of you during consultations. Fucking legend, in my book.
(, Thu 19 Aug 2010, 21:13, Reply)
King Harald
About eleven years old. My friends and I were big into bows and arrows. All home made using suitably bendy branches for the bow and garden canes (the thin dark green ones)for arrows and fishing line for the string.. We all got good at this and could fire arrows 50m or so.

Another thing we had discovered was that if you hacksawed a golf ball open you would find a ball of elastic wrapped around itself many many times.

A good idea was hatched. Tie one end of the elastic to the arrow and the other to the bow, so when fired the arrow would return to sender and could be fired again.

I tried this, only to find the plan worked perfectly. The arrow came straight back like a bat out of hell. It hit me on the bony bit between above the eye and below the eyebrow. I ended up with a huge scab, but that was it. Just 2cm lower and . . . ?

I told my parents I had caught myself on a branch. I was too ashamed to admit the stupidity of what I had done.
(, Thu 19 Aug 2010, 20:14, Reply)
near decapitation
11 years ago, i moved* out of the family home and into my own place. it was a decent-sized flat, but it was an utter shithole. the stairways stank of wee, many of the neighbours were smackheads and there were mice. the building itself was falling apart.
due to a strange mixture of coincidences involving the whereabouts of the block and its proximity to the local train station, the side of the block i lived in was like a permanent wind tunnel, without the tunnel. the sheer strength of the wind on that side had, after 38 years, pretty much trashed everyone's kitchen and living room (only the side ones)windows and, with the block due for demolition, new windows were not forthcoming.
one night, during a rather magnificent storm, my side window blew open. sighing, i stood on the couch and leaned out to grab the window. my waist was leaning on the sill, which meant that the upper half of my body was outside, getting wet. i grabbed the window by the frame, only to have it yanked out of my hands by a particularly violent gust. again i grabbed and again the window was snatched out of my hands. getting annoyed now, i leaned further out and got a better grip on the window's frame.
clinging tightly to the window, i hauled my sodden carcass back over the sill and into the warm, then shut the window and locked it.
literally 2 seconds after i closed the window, the ENTIRE window and frame from the flat two floors above went crashing past my window.
to say i almost shit myself would be putting it mildly. i knew the place was becoming dangerous, but i didn't think it was trying to kill me! if i'd taken another three or four seconds to close that window, there's a very good chance i'd have lost my head. i'm pretty sure it would have killed me, anyway.
i moved out not long afterwards.

*got kicked out
(, Thu 19 Aug 2010, 19:56, Reply)
My Grandfather's narrow escape...and backside
My grandad was on of the unfortunates who took place in the Dunkirk landings. I am sure you have all heard about how the UK sent just about every boat with an engine to pick our boys up. Well, my grandad was in the midst of clambering on to a fishing boat, climbing the ladder, when he felt a blinding pain, and realised he had been shot 4 times...

...with one bullet.

A bullet entered his right buttock at an angle that it exited near the bunghole, re-entered his left buttock and exited the other side.

Luckily, he never proudly showed his scars.
(, Thu 19 Aug 2010, 19:48, 4 replies)
Mother knows best
When travelling from Newcastle to London I was once advised by my over cautious mother to catch the train a whole day early because of the impending snow storm that was making its way south from Scotland.

Nonetheless I woke London the next day to find that Newcastle was completely free of snow - but no trains arriving in London. It transpired that the lack of trains was because the service I had intended to travel on had met with an unfortunate incident at Great Selby when some halfwit decided to park his Land Rover on the tracks to have a nap.

Thanks Mum!
(, Thu 19 Aug 2010, 19:44, Reply)

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