ive thought of one
i was on a works night out from the shitty call centre that i used to work in.

1) called one of my team managers "postman fat" because i hated him and he was fat, too far?

2) robbed a pile of free drinks vouchers and tried to sell them back to the person giving them out in the first place, too far?

3) ended up going to the walkabout of all places and drinking loads whilst talking to my bemused boyfriend about all this as i had been advised to leave by one of my mates who had been talking to postman fat. too far?

4) on hearing the name kitty, but not actually this kitty another kitty in the bar, being called to the "babe or minger" (classy liverpool tradition) competition decided that i should join the competition anyway to the comperes confusion, too far?

5)when it was my turn to "wow" the baying crowd with my "babeness" i just shouted "i dont fucking care what you think of me you bunch of scally fecks, piss of back to the tanning salon and kiss my big shiny ass" and other profanities until my turn came to an end, the level of my babeness was supposed to be decided by the applause, i just got stunned silence, but the compere was so shocked he decided to let me through to the next round amyway, then asked the bouncers to get me downstairs, too far?

6) kicking a man in bargain booze up the bum, then when he asked wht i was doing saying, "what? i'll kick you in the ass you fool......."and kickin up the ass again but this time with a run up.

7)taking the next day off work withouit telling anyone because of the embarrasment? too far?

ask my then employees, i kept my job but i havent been back to the walkabout, i got moved to a different room from postman fat (other managers i think found this secretly hilarious) and thank goodness have never seen the bum kickee again.

weeeergh
(superkitty is neither super nor a kitty, Tue 14 Nov 2006, 15:56, Reply)

embarrassing competition
a friend a me were in london for the day and he said he could embarrass me easier than i could him... cue shouting sexual puns at each other and pretending we were a couple to get the other to go 'bright red'. i eventually kissed him on the lips a crowded train.
(Just Harry What should I put here?, Tue 14 Nov 2006, 15:52, Reply)

going too far
My mate offered to give me a lift from Bristol to Cardiff the other night, but when I woke up we were just approaching Swansea. He'd definitely gone too far
(counterblast to agnosticism, Tue 14 Nov 2006, 15:46, Reply)

Bitter sweet revenge
A stupid mate of mine was always one for lashing out or doing the over extreme thing to end any dispute.
So during a heated arguament with his girlfriend he grapped of all things her kitten... then ran downstairs and popped it in the microwave... on full power.

She managed to open the door after about 20 seconds but kitty was never quite right again. Hopefully unrelated by kitty died a few months later.

Her reaction, she tried to cut his ear off with some scissors.

One of them went too far.
(golddust QOTW now revolves around being a cunt, Tue 14 Nov 2006, 15:26, Reply)

Fromage frolics
Once upon a time a few mates and I were arsing about at a friend's house while his parents were out, when we discovered that cheese slices have remarkable adhesive properties when applied to a smooth surface. Naturally this lead to our beer run being co-opted to include as many Tesco Value Cheese Slices as our host's staff discount could manage, and an hour of driving around randomly flinging said slices at other cars, shops, bus shelters and occasionally pedestrians, with sadly very little successful stickage.

We returned home and, after much thinking and quite a lot of beer, we had an epiphany. To reach the full potential of what we had termed "cheese-slapping", what we needed was a stationary car, where the cheese could be applied with a degree of craftsmanship.

We managed to cover the windscreen and two thirds of the bonnet before the car's irate owner emerged from his house and chased us down the street, which was almost certainly taking our cheese-related hijinks too far. However we had not gone far enough in our search for a suitable target, because as we fled, giggling like twats, we saw the car owner give up the chase and simply cross the road to stand in our host's open front doorway and wait for us.

Bollocks.
(wellgroomedwookiee is a filthy-minded hobgoblin, Tue 14 Nov 2006, 15:20, Reply)

Nasty nun
Many years ago I went to a convent primary school and (obviously) was taught entirely by nuns. Now everyone knows that nuns are amongst the most evil people on this earth....but still kids love to torment them.....

One teacher we had was Sister Anne and she was a one legged nasty nun - the leg had been lost in a cycling accident some years earlier. She spent most of the year tormenting me in particular but one day I was not the usual suspect. Two girls sat in front of me; Samantha and Katie. Katie was everyone's favourite person - really pretty but also a bitch - which no one seemed to notice because they were blinded by her beauty. Samantha was just a pain in the arse. Samantha decided to have a go at Katie - no idea why because Samantha had a crush on Katie....Anyway, Samantha spends ten minutes stuffing pieces of paper down Katie's jumper - ramming them down with a wooden ruler....As this was a good Catholic school we had always been told to turn the other cheek - so Katie simply tried to ignore Samantha.

So why didn't Sister Anne notice anything? Because she was downstairs (school in an old house) making a cup of tea for herself (!). Eventually another member of the class goes downstairs to tell Sister what Samantha has been up to - Katie is by now in tears, not least of all because it's her ruler that's being used. Samantha is ordered downstairs with the ruler....the whole class goes to the door to listen...and we are rewarded with the satisfying noise of ruler on bare legs accompanied by appropriate swishing and screams...until.....Crack! The ruler breaks....Sister Anne calls out for a ruler from her teacher desk....they were ALL METAL....The ruler is handed over, Samantha receives the remainder of her sixty of the best and is sent back upstairs suitably chastised....


Ten minutes later Sister Anne calls for the class - excluding Samantha - to come downstairs....when we get there she has put out drinks of orange squash and biscuits for all of us....with the instructions that we can take the biscuits back upstairs if we want but not to give any to Samantha....


Samantha, where ever you are, you didn't deserve that.
( chickenlady b3ta's very own Elizabeth Taylor, Tue 14 Nov 2006, 15:14, Reply)

Runway
Recently I decided to go to my local spa. It's a lovely place, where they don't mind if you get naked. In a hippy way, not a pervy way.

As I was going to be removing my clothes in public, I decided it was time for 'a little tidy up down below'. Being completely lazy when it comes to any more than the most minimal of girl-type maintenance, I'd left it a while, and it seemed like it was going to be a bit of a Strimmer job.

'No problem' I thought. 'Rather than hacking away for an hour or so with a razor I'll just borrow my husbands' beard trimmer'.

Blithely I fished it out of the cupboard, switched it on, and confidently set too. Only to look down and realise belatedly that I'd forgot to put a guard on. Behold, the Reverse Brazilian! I'd gone far too far and cut a bald swathe right down the middle. Nothing for it but to take the lot off.

I appeared far more naked than I intended that day.

PS. You'd think Mr Clapper would have loved this wouldn't you. But no, I think he was mildly disturbed. Though whether at my 'new look'or my stupidity I'll never know...
(clapper, Tue 14 Nov 2006, 15:10, Reply)

Jesus Christ.....
...I used to run a website for cyberspanners, which was very funny indeed, then I published a newsletter entitled 'Jesus Christ's Cock up the Virgin Mary's Arse'- which was really going a bit too far...
(sparagus14, Tue 14 Nov 2006, 14:48, Reply)

clumsyeloquence - I know
My ex's mother runs a pagan shop in Edinburgh, so I know all about it, was just dumbing the story down for the dear readers.
Still a pile of wank for insecure fools, though.
;)
( gadjie, Tue 14 Nov 2006, 14:45, Reply)

The Bud.........
Ok, here is my story of my “mates” going too far.

A little while ago, whilst at a small house party I had become intoxicated with copious amounts of spirits my friends decided that it would be a good idea to do a DIY wax job on my arse crack (because I often complained about it being too hairy).

Well, normally I would have declined this offer and not let anyone near my arse with a wax strip. However, the large amounts of alcohol that I had drunk meant that my resilience to stupid ideas was down at about -5.

Cue 5 minutes later and my best friend (a girl) has a hot pot of wax and has me bending over her bed (as if I was going to get bummed) spreading that crap all around my chocolate starfish with some weird wooden spatula thing.

Anyway, I had enough sense to make everyone else leave the room as I thought I would retain SOME of my dignity in all this. How wrong I was. Next thing I remember is something cold being rammed up my arsehole! I stand up in shock, wondering what the hell it was and turn around only to be greeted by ALL of my friends, standing there, wetting themselves laughing. Oh, and they were all filming the ordeal with camera phones. I also catch a glimpse of another of my friends, bolting to the door having dropped the Budwieser bottle he used to violate me.

As if all that wasn’t bad enough, I soon realised that there was still a lot of wax on my arse cheeks and it had now become stuck together where I had stood up. Panic quickly set in and I bent over in a hurry only to be greeted by the most excruciating pain! Alcohol numbs pain, but god I felt it.

That was the night my friends went too far.


Needless to say I got my own back on my friend later in the evening by tricking him into drinking out the shite-covered bottle he had violated me with.

I woke in the morning with a sore but ever-so-smooth bottom and magic marker art all over my body courtesy of my “mates.”

Cheers guys!


*Waves good-bye to post virginity as it sails away into the horizon on the virginity ship……*

No apologies for length, my other half loves it, so can you!
(-Tomcat- has heard of the healing power of laughter?, Tue 14 Nov 2006, 14:44, Reply)

make it hurt
i dont know if this is too far but she wanted it so i guess its ok.

she told me to give her 12 inches and make it hurt, so i fucked her twice then hit her round the head with a rolled up newspaper.
(Fake Spaniard, Tue 14 Nov 2006, 14:16, Reply)

Oh dear
James_Tiger_Woods post reminds me of a similarly embarrassing event.

The company where I'm contracting had a first birthday party, at the Natural History Museum. All the booze and food laid on, so no need to spend a cent. So quite why colleagues and I decided we needed to go to a nearby bar for happy hour I'm still unclear. Amyway, I stagger out of the bar and catch a taxi to the museum. I wander in and at the reception they are handing out glasses of Champagne, I grab a glass and carry on round the exhibits in the reception area, taking every top-up opportunity when champagne bearing waiters pass by. After about 15mins I feel the need for an oily. Smoking is only allowed in one area downstairs, so off I pop, returning through the reception area on my way back upstairs, collecting more champagne on the way.

Shortly we go in to be seated for dinner where there are wines for each of the four courses with waiters enthusiastically filling glasses everytime someone takes so much as a sip.

So, where did I go too far?
The foul mouthed limerick I wrote for the murder mystery players that they refused to read out? Perhaps
The loud and offensive heckling of said murder mystery'ers? Maybe
The sparking up of a very large Cuban cigar in the middle of the Earth Galleries? Quite possibly
Or could it have been the wandering over to a nearby table of senior managers and proceeding to tell them how I "F*ckin' hate everyone I work with" and that the managers "Are all a bunch of c*nts". Hmmm, let me think.

I'd like to thank the security guard who advised me to leave for saving any chance of further work at this company, a few minutes more and I don't know what I'd have done :(
(lardyboy Next stop, Fissplap Central, Tue 14 Nov 2006, 14:13, Reply)

Walking on the beaches, looking at the peaches
Back to the beaches of Nice and our little band of people, having fun being young. One of our group was a nice lad from South London (I didn’t hold this against him, honest), let’s call him Alex Tortellini (as I can’t remember his surname, but was Italian). Anyway, young Alex got off with an American bird one night and was more than a little boastful…until a day or two later when he noticed a rash on his little gentleman. Ah me.

Poor Alex was in quite a lather but the ‘old man’ of the group, Pete – who must have been all of 27 or 28 and had been around the block a few times – told him it was probably just thrush. Now this was interesting to most of us who had never heard of it, but Pete assured us that it was nothing to worry about, a doctor could give him some cream for it and it would all be OK in quick time. So, off went Alex to the local doctor, got the cream, rubbed it in (cautiously at first, then more and more vigorously), and the thrush departed, though the oh-so witty gibes continued un-abated.

“Get on with it Che, you loquacious bugger you!” I hear you moan. OK, OK, what was going too far was sending a postcard to Alex at his folks’ address, addressed to Alex Thrush-Dick Tortellini when we knew it would arrive long before he got home.
(Che Grimsdale Best before:, Tue 14 Nov 2006, 14:09, Reply)

Filthy
When I was a young rebel with a cause, that cause being international socialist revolution (sooocialist worker, soooocialist worker), we used to go on demonstrations. It was kind of a hobby, anti-apartheid, troops out of Northern Ireland, Down with the fascist Shah of Iran, Anti-Nazi League, Rock against Racism, Touche pas mon Pote, Maggie Maggie Maggie, Out out out, Support the miners, Ban the Bomb, Grunswick (look it up), you bleedin’ name we were against it.

Anyway, it was all a bit of fun for us middle-class, sub-urban, punky lefty types…usually. One day though, at a Troops Out march, there was a bit of a confrontation with the Filth – as we fondly called them – or more precisely, the SPG: Special Patrol Group. Now one of our group was actually an ex-soldier, so had a bit more reason than the rest of us this time around, also, he wasn’t afraid of a bit of confrontation. Anyway, things got a bit hairy, most of us ran away, but ex-soldier boy got grabbed by the Filth. OK, fair dos, he’ll be held, charged, released, no harm done; but no, they went too far.

Four of them held him: a limb apiece, while a fifth one punched him right in the knackers. When I saw him next, he was walking with two walking sticks…very slowly, and with a gait made famous in the Wild West.
(Che Grimsdale Best before:, Tue 14 Nov 2006, 14:09, Reply)

Anal – but probably not the way you’re thinking

I used to work with a woman (and I use the term in its strictest sense) who was as anal as…as…a hardcore Swedish gay sick skin flick.

I won’t go into all her annoying ways, like how when it was her turn to get the drinks from the coffee machine she would say “Beveraaaaage?” every single time. Where she went too far was sharing the fact that she made her sandwiches every night before she went to bed, and kept them in the fridge ready for the morning. Not only that, but they were ALWAYS ham sarnies, just ham, no tomato, no mustard, just ham.

But then (sob) she had to share that not only does she go out in January and buy Christmas cards for December (‘because they’re much cheaper in the sales’) but…she gets birthday cards for every single unhappy person she knows (in January), writes them, puts them in envelopes, addresses them and puts stamps on them…IN JANUARY. Then she files them in date order so that she has no chance of missing someone’s birthday.

Now there’s no need for that is there?
(Che Grimsdale Best before:, Tue 14 Nov 2006, 14:08, Reply)

Had one of the longest days in my life...
... I had saved a presidential candidate's life more than once, saved my family from multiple kidnappings and then uncovered a traitor in my workplace.

Only to have my ex shoot my wife dead.

That was too much.
( __, Tue 14 Nov 2006, 13:43, Reply)

Story
This has reminded me of an episode that I can't go into full details as it's long, dull and requires a history lesson of James_Tiger_Woods' pathetic crush/obsession on "She who shall remain nameless" - let's call her Gertrude...

Suffice to say that night (It was a Friday night I think) involved me ignoring my partner completely, chatting up my friend's girlfriend (in front of my partner), telling another friend that I wish I was with Gertrude (and my partner hearing me say it), getting sh*tfaced, throwing up in the hotel bed and then driving home with a furious partner the next morning and I was totally still drunk.

Too far? Possibly.... it gets worse.

That same night I'd slapped my manager on the back and said "Hey fatty" (He's about 30 stone), getting into a row with his wife and generally being a drunken arse.

Too far? I'd say so.

Did I mention that this was all at my friend's wedding reception? No. She wasn't amused.

Did I mention that there were loads of senior work people there - I was drunk and had forgotten.

My partner was so angry she was just "dissapointed" in me. The shame.

The Monday morning at work was interesting to say the least as everyone had seen me be that particular arse. There was a LOT of tutting and shaking of heads in my direction.

Took me about 3 years to live that one down. My partner and I don't discuss that night so I think I did more than I remember or have been reminded of.....

There seemed to have been no detrimental effect on my career either (cough cough) - I've literally just realised that there probably was and all this was about 5 years ago......

No penis joke here - this was a shameful event in my history.
(james_tiger_woods is going to start his killing spree on the, Tue 14 Nov 2006, 13:42, Reply)

Glue
When I was 4 I went to a playgroup at a church hall near by to where we lived. I was a timid child at most of the time until they gave me a rideable yellow wheatabix lorry to try and make me engage in the group. From then on I obsessively rode my lorry and even screamed when they wouldnt let me take it home. All the other kids knew that it was my lorry apart from one who (as I found out only the other day actually has autism) was a bit of a spacker. Anyway to the crux of the story, one day me mum dropped me off a bit late as we had been delayed somehow, to my horror the spacker was on MY lorry!!! I hit him he cried and he surrendered the lorry, I triumphantly howled got a warning from the playgroup leader but all was fine I had my lorry. This sounds like a standard possessive kid and his favourite toy story, where did he go to far you probably dont care. Well for the rest of the day I bided my time, while all the while circling said spack around the church hall. When he went to the toilet I followed him in, still on the lorry and out of sight and earshot preceded to beat the crap out of him and left him lying in the urinal, blubbing away like a little baby.
I still miss the Wheatabix lorry, it was my only friend until primary school, I got kicked out a couple of weeks later for biting a girl who tried to ride my pride ang joy, kinky eh?
(jambolio, Tue 14 Nov 2006, 13:37, Reply)

My mate
My mate is quite unfortunate. He was squatting in an abandoned house in Llandudno with some mates and was fast asleep on the floor when all of a sudden the windows were smashed and a gang of what can only be described as welshmen came running into the room.

They beat the living daylights out of my friend and his friends and left, without stealing anything.
(pryor_engagement, Tue 14 Nov 2006, 13:33, Reply)

Gadjie- Paganism
Sorry to be a killjoy, but there's nothing pagan whatsoever in mutilating a corpse. And paganism the waythe vast majority of people practice it has nothing to do with 'the black arts'.
(clumsyeloquence is a girl, Tue 14 Nov 2006, 13:30, Reply)

Ring of Fire
After much drinks one night there was a group of us staggering around our local town.

One of my mates Rich disappeared - only to be found shortly afterwards asleep on a park bench.

After the usual beer can / bottle / stone throwing fun he was still sparko, so something more exciting was required - Petrol !

Some one produced a jerry can (as good friends always do), and I then proceeded to run pouring petrol in a (what I thought was) big circle around the bench, still with it's happy sleeping Richard on it.

Said petrol was lit, only then did I realise quite how tight this circle was, and had the horror of watching my friend awaken through the flames, leap to his feet and for some random reason shout "Hell's Bells!" before sprinting through the 3 foot flames into the night like a scolded cat. I think he ran all the way home cos we didn't see him again for a few days.

I am a bad person, I often go too far.
(Mookystink is living on stolen toast, Tue 14 Nov 2006, 13:28, Reply)

def. not proud....
Mick the trucker had a v. dodgy taste in wimmin: he was living with C. who had a twin with cancer, while she was away one w/end, he fixed me and him up with 2 skanky wimmin (byatches but goers from goington near gocity) we had a great weekend. when C. returned she spotted that somebody had moved (as in opened/closed and not put back to millimetre precision point-told ya she was odd) her precious curtains-and quite possibly wiped their occk on em too...
anyway the twin had died that weekend. Mick went to the funeral to meet with Hostile siblings of the recently croaked and the irate parents. At the funeral, Mick got the old fish eye and started to protest: older sister smacked him on the back of the head with a hymnal, turning he decked her and a brother, before mum got in a righthander that left a cracking bruise, so he decked her too. Dad then hit him with a haymaker and result: a kick in the balls as a return favour. Eventually the whole family pitched in until the Vicar had to wade in and pull 'em apart, he got a swipe too.
Mick then commented that 'Cancers too fucking goodfor you lot'
At this point the vicar suggested that he leave....
Last seen Mick was on the run after being caught shagging the daughter of another oddity and after she complained, smacking her, and her daughter too. Plod were called.
I think it was this point that I let our friendship lapse....
(mickturate if i could be arsed i'd be bored, Tue 14 Nov 2006, 13:26, Reply)

more childhood frolics
after playing 'knock on ginger,'the ever classic game of knocking on a door and running away, the owner (who we all knew was a cunt, hence the reason for our knocking) saw us hiding on the opposite side of the road and chased after us. I was running, or trying to, in big baggy flares or 'loon pants.' He caught up with me and this total retard girl who was tagging along. We had no option but to cower behind the tiniest garden wall you'd ever seen, which did add some humour to the whole saga.

anyway, he decided against raping us, preferring to pull our hair and slap us, after which I ran away quite annoyed. But relieved.

this guy is also known for being a nonce (and I'd thought he was just being friendly when he winked at me as I came out of infants school).

so yeah; he went a little too far methinks so I wreaked my revenge by putting a brick through the windscreen of his merc, letting the tyres down, and ordering 60 quids worth of food for delivery to his house. ahahahaha. best thing was the plan also enabled me to get my own back on the take-away who'd banned me for producing an uprooted plant and placing it on the counter (was drunk).
(pryor_engagement, Tue 14 Nov 2006, 13:24, Reply)

Hull
I've been to Hull. Now that's too far.

Actually, Goole was too far, but for some reason I kept driving.

(Well, I did work in both those places so I kinda had to)

Yes, it's poor and no, I'm not sorry. But I do have a fantastic penis joke.
(james_tiger_woods is going to start his killing spree on the, Tue 14 Nov 2006, 13:22, Reply)

kicking alex o up the arse
in year 7, there was a chubby boy who, for the purposes of this post I shall call 'alex' (because that is indeed his name).

He was a 'townie' before townies became known as chavs.

anyway he was irritating and had a gold nike earring, he would also occasionally hassle me.

In the playground one autumn day his mates were playing around with him, doing the whole play fighting business- one of them had him in a head lock. His arse was pointed straight at me. How could I resist?

I delivered a great, almighty boot to the afore mentioned gluteous. It felt good. I was usually such a quiet girl- but anger at my oppression had been slowly festering and accumulating within me. Next thing I knew he was bright red in the face and in tears screaming "WHO DID THAT! WHO BOOTED ME UP THE ARSE?!"

Seeing his rage I felt a little nervous. I stood there and said nothing, knowing that a huge crowd of his mates had witnessed me doing the deed. But, luckily for me, the girl who fancied him was an attention whore, and loved nothing more than being chased by boys so she said she did it. I actually felt quite miffed that, having just revealed my true nature to the class, someone else was taking the credit. He then beat the shit out of her.
(pryor_engagement, Tue 14 Nov 2006, 13:08, Reply)

Hmm
I sent a link to Goatse to a nun (actually, it was a whole convent full of them)*.

* May not be 100% true.
(lardaholics anonymous, Tue 14 Nov 2006, 13:07, Reply)

sister's wedding
and there was my sister's wedding in July. at theparty the night before i was once again charging around naked and shouting and trying to hit people with my nob. caught my sister sitting down and got her in the face. cue awkward silences and no one looking me in the eye the next day.

too far again. christ this is easy...
(the mighty rich, Tue 14 Nov 2006, 12:46, Reply)

revenge
to be fair, i went to a party at the same gys house in which i
1. got naked and stayed that way all night
2. had a fight with someone (i forget who)
3. accidentally pulled the toilet door off the wall
4. rode his housemate's mountain bike down the stairs taking out the bannister and the front door in the process

that was going too far
(the mighty rich, Tue 14 Nov 2006, 12:37, Reply)

midnight oddities
at uni a few years ago, in the middle of the night, asleep. a good mate of mine, who knows who he is, broke into my flat to show me him punching some bloke i'd never met in the face. very hard. in my lounge.
(the mighty rich, Tue 14 Nov 2006, 12:30, Reply)

Sheep herding - a step too far
Not me but my cousin and his mate, on tour through Scotland.

Picture the scene: 2 tall German lads, fresh from a year in the army, skin-headed. The rolling hills of the Highlands, lush vegetation, the freshest summer air, livestock quietly grazing in the fields.

They stop the car. They get out to stretch their legs. They take in the scenery with smiles on their faces... until their eyes catch a herd of sheep in the distance. A plan is formed. A plan that we've probably all considered at some point. Sheep herding.

And with the upmost subtelty that only 2 skin-headed ex-soldiers could manage, they charge up the field sending the herd into a panicked frenzy. The sheep gather together and sprint up the field and onto the horizon. And then they disappear.

Cousin and accomplice eventually reach the horizon point, expecting to see the sheep charging down the other side of the field. This is NOT what they see. What they actually see is a cliff edge, and several sheep carcases strewn in bloody tatters on the rocks below. Ooooooooooops.

They had indeed "gone a little too far".
(Mean Mad Mutski, Tue 14 Nov 2006, 12:28, Reply)