That German Bird
I lived in a shared house up until fairly recently and this German girl moved in. She was nice at first but went a bit crazy after a while and started putting our dirty plates in the garden if we didn't wash them straight away.

Anyway, long story short - I told her boyfriend that she used date rape drugs and that she was a prostitute. Too far? Nah.
(aroe_m0rre, Fri 10 Nov 2006, 16:51, Reply)

I would type a story
but the keyboards too far away
(abignumber, Fri 10 Nov 2006, 16:45, Reply)

Sometimes I forget...
I'm a stand-up comic, and us comics have a dark sense of humour offstage. Every now and then I'm reminded that most 'civilians' don't.

A gentle example is when I was on my way home from a gig. Our coach had stopped at a motorway service station, the type that charges £1.50 for a bottle of water. All the coach refugees were looking round the shop grumbling about the prices. I turned to this one guy in the spirit of 'we're all in this together':

"Yeah. Feels a bit like your being raped doesn't it?"

"No."

Too far.
(metalwarlord, Fri 10 Nov 2006, 16:44, Reply)

Going back a couple of years
I was at a house party, surrounded by mates from all over Chesterfield.
The party was going well , the beer, vodka, whiskey, rum and various other beverages were going down steadily and we had played almost every drinking game under the sun.

Then , someone bored of playing 'I have never' decided to say "I have never gone streaking."

Now, none of us had, so this posed a challenge that any drunken 18 year old would have taken up.
So we lined up in the freezing Summer night, cheering as the lasses ran past wearing only bra and knickers, and the lads ran past hoping that the cold wouldn't get to them too much.

I, as the last in the queue, decided that I had to out stage everyone.
So I disappear behind the 'changing' bush, get nekkid, and do the only thing I can think of to upstage them.

I go one step too far.

I get hard.

Rather than the rapturous applause I was expecting however, there came only a stunned silence as I came bouncing down the road.

The picture of me, jogging straight backed with knees high, manhood flailing wildly for anyone to see, is still etched onto some of my friends minds.
Poor sods.

Apologies for length, the night was very, very cold
(also I thought a bit of back-story would make a better story than 'I went streaking with a knob-on')
( Pointy Head poked another hole in my anorak on, Fri 10 Nov 2006, 16:37, Reply)

my mate
lets call him Bob. He goes too far. He pulled an 18 year old (he was 30 odd) and they strike up an unlikely relationship. He is weird anyway and has a very unusual taste in everything, especially women.(Disclaimer, his current fiance is a return to normality thank god).

Lets call her Jen. Jen is fucked up. Like you've never seen before. We're talking everything. Drugs (many & varied). Prostitution (between ages 12-15). Rape (paternal). She looks about 12 but we saw her birth certificate, when Bob met her, she was of age.

Turns out, Bob relayed with great delight, thanks to years of systematic abuse, that Jen can only get off in one way. Imagine the shit she went through to find this out.

Some people might need to turn away about now. I guarantee this is really messed up. It invoves sharp things and blood.

(no-one has stopped reading have they? Its like a car crash).

Jen likes it like this. Firstly, she has to be tied up naked. By all four limbs, to the bedposts, and none of this loose rope shit, it has to be done properly, leather belts or chains. There's no fucking 'safety word' either.

Using a clean scalpel or knife, she requires her clitoris and labia to be 'nicked' so that they bleed in a few tiny little cuts. This, I'm told doesnt hurt much anymore.

She then requires some solitude. About an hour. Enough time for the cuts to scab over.

Bob, or whoever, then returns - and this is a must, naked, with a hardon and must fuck her as selfishly as possible, and roughly. It must look like he is only interested in getting himself off (not a difficult task for many men, however probably best not, in this particular scenario to do it with their eyes open). At some point, the scabs will break and there will be fucking bloody mess, and at the end, it will look pretty fucking bad.

Somewhere in there she will get off on it.

I have never relayed this story and not found everyone to be sat there afterwards, slackjawed and speechless.

Beat that.
( I have run out of coke is a little sweaty, Fri 10 Nov 2006, 16:32, Reply)

Lame one to start with
We were in Uni, and what do students do? They steal things as trophies (oh the wit).

It was getting progressively worse, with things like very large signs, a car door, and a set of traffic lights (wtf?) turning up in people rooms.

Having not been involved so far, I decided to get in on the act, so I plotted my prize winning steal. I lured one the 'owner' of the traffic lights over to my room, locked the door and stole him.

I stole a person. Too far?

Better ones later.
( Sonic James Doom forgetting the date since... umm..., Fri 10 Nov 2006, 16:32, Reply)

Another one..
.
Didn't see this myself but the tale is a local legend around my way. And I did know the bloke who allegedly did this quite well and it is the sort of thing he'd do.

His wife was a bit of a loose woman and was alledgedly screwing half of the rugby club. So this bloke walks in one night and tells the barman to turn the music down. he turned and looked at the assembled rugby guys and said.

"The next one of you who fucks my wife I'll do time for."

Maybe a little too far perhaps?

cheers
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Fri 10 Nov 2006, 16:31, Reply)

Something for the weekend sir?
Here’s one which I’m fairly certain meets all the criteria…I’m just not sure WHO went too far.

When I met the wonder that was to become the future (and current…and, let’s face it, only) Mrs Grimsdale we were both young free and single. I had been in love before but not like this, nothing like this. We always had a very open relationship, told each other everything – as you do, which is how I knew that she had some issues with men [see: running away]. Anyway, I was the perfect man and would live for her and her alone etc. etc.

I won’t go into details (could be useful for another QOTW) but we’d been together about six months, living, travelling etc. rarely if ever apart, very intense and very, very good, when I decided I wanted to see my old best mate who was at Poly in Dudley (this was in the old days when shite unis were called polytechnics). Mrs G stayed behind in our bedsit in West London and I got the bus for Digbeth, where I was met by old mate + new girlfriend.

Time was had, drinks drank, fun had etc. I couldn’t contact Mrs G as mobile phones hadn’t been invented and there was just one payphone in the house we lived in, which didn’t accept in-coming calls. I missed her, and felt less than whole without her, I thought about her a lot and found it very hard to get to sleep at night without her warm and comforting body snuggled next to mine.

So, I’d been there a few days and was due to get the bus the next day. It was very cold and there had been a bit of snow. We were sitting around the table, eating our evening meal before a last visit to the pub when the phone rang; it was Mrs G for me. My heart sang, she must be wanting to confirm which bus I’d be on the next day.

“Hello,” I said,

“I’ve been reading your diaries” she said, “I hate you and I never want to see you again”, and with that, she slammed the phone down.

…….

That was what was going through my mind. Blankness, darkness, my stomach fell through the floor. The rest of that night and the following morning are a blank, all I can remember is the empty, empty pain. I was in shock.

My mate walked me to the bus the next day. The snow had stopped but it was compacted underfoot and difficult to walk on. Did I care? Did I fuck.

I bought some fags, though I’d given up three months before. They helped in the way that only fags can help when there is nothing else you can do. My mate probably talked to me, I don’t know. We got to the bus stop where the National Express would soon take me back to what? God knows….

The bus arrived, I picked up my bags and was about to get on, then commotion, mate’s girlfriend was shouting at me, waving from up the street, running, waving, shouting.

A miracle had happened. Interflora had called, just after we left, with a single red rose and a message: ‘Sorry, please forgive me’.

OK, nice gesture, but she still went too far. Anyway, after reading my diaries, she REALLY knew me, and after getting over it, she still wanted me, and after all that, I still wanted her.

Have a nice weekend folks.
(Che Grimsdale Best before:, Fri 10 Nov 2006, 16:30, Reply)

One guy we work with
on his stag do, his mates decided to dress him up as the only gay in the village; the full PVC etc suit. At first he declined, but after a few drinks got into the spirit of things and dressed up in it, as his mates said he'd only be wearing it in his local.
He goes down the local, and starts getting hammered. His mates are having a laugh at his expense, but he's playing along in character to the Little Britain star. After a while one of his mates tells him that they are making a move, so for a laugh he PISSES HIMSELF deliberately in this suit, much to the giggles of his best man and mates.
After he finishes, he asks for his clothes back ready for the nightclub.
"We never brought them, you're wearing that in the clubs."
Apparently he wore it all night, and completely ummmed of piss in every club.
( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Fri 10 Nov 2006, 16:29, Reply)

my friend Andrew was, and indeed still is, a homosexualist

once I entered the room to find him petting a cat.

Instantly I said "hello Andrew - I didn't think you liked pussy".

There was a bit of a silence where I though "oh shit, that was pretty offensive", but luckily he laughed.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 10 Nov 2006, 16:28, Reply)

Cant use real names for legal reasons...
About this time last, my mate(who we shall call bob) was being made redundent after the electricians he worked for was going bunkrupt, not only that but he was'nt going to recieve any pay.
well bob gives me a phone and says he wants a hand, he and some of his work mates are going back to work to steal as much stuff as they can!
Bob and i turn up to find guys walking off with piles of copper wire and other various stuff they can sell.
Bob fills the back of his van with wire and tools, says to me he'll be back in a minute, just a short while later he turns up with the office computer, a stunned me "christ, thats taking it a bit far dont ya think?"
He stuffs the computer into the back of his vans and yells "We'd better get the fuck out of here"
just at this the office starts bellowing smoke and flames, i just look at him shocked, as he jumps into the drivers seat he says "that'll teach the fuckers to not pay me".

It made the news and everything, but we must never speak of it again.
( SolidGoldChimp, Fri 10 Nov 2006, 16:23, Reply)

I'm proud to say I know the name of Transvision Vamp's third album

(Little Magnets Versus the Bubble of Babble) - but I knew someone who used to own it.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 10 Nov 2006, 16:21, Reply)

Sorry cows
About 3years ago, I was visiting my cousins who live in a rural area. I’d been looking for something to get them, as was our custom. My gift found the form of a water bomb catapult. I had a glance at the description, saying it needs 3 people to fire (perfect, there were 4 of us, but one was on crutches after knee surgery) very powerful and for over 18s only. I pay my £20 and a few days later it arrives.

I should have known from the sheet of warnings/legal disclaimers that I had something I shouldn’t. I should have known to follow the advice, maybe it said don’t fire at people animals or property for a reason. But being 17 and with equally immature boys of the same age we proceeded to get a few practice shots in before we take to finding targets.

But what to shoot? Why I saw a herd of cows and thought “I see no moral problem with shooting cows.” Now, we may be immature but we weren’t daft. Realising the farmer may have objections to use firing on his cows, we came back just after midnight and crept into the darkened field. We moved silently like marines on a recon mission, catapult over my shoulder, to my side was one of my cousins with a bucket of water bombs and water to cushion their journey. A few feet ahead was my eldest cousin, finding our rout.

At this point I feel compelled to mention that the catapult could throw a water bomb the size of a large orange for well over 200 meters, or if fired vertically, could send it aloft for 5-7 seconds.

We found our targets and got into position, taking it in turns to fire on the cows. How we laughed as the water bombs thudded on their sides, how we shrieked with glee at head shots. How we laughed when the calf caught one in the side. We hit 10 cows all in all, from close range, before deciding enough was enough and returning home to tell tales of our adventures to our fathers. The sad part is that’s the proudest my Dad has ever looked of me.

The next day while sitting around a table talking of the previous nights adventure my uncle returned from his walk looking troubled.

“The cows have been moved from that field boys.”

Nine words that made my balls go back in a little way.

Being men of science, we deduced that some mark must have been left, and decided to set about testing the catapults strength. Using a piece of chip board as a shield, my cousin agreed to test the strength of a water bomb fired from a similar distance to we were to the cows, pulled back the same amount and of course, the water bomb was the same sort of size.

“FIRE!”

It took a second to realise what had happened, why was Nick clutching his ribs and shouting? Why wasn’t the chip board wet? Then we noticed the hole. We had blown a hole into a piece of chip board, to thick to stamp in half with a water bomb. It had carried on with enough force to bruise my cousin’s ribs.
That force had hit cows in the side, arse and face. Even a little calf had been hit in the attack.

I still laugh about it to this day, but I also feel slight shame, the type I’d imagine you’d feel after beating some one up who didn’t really deserve it.

That’s when I went too far.
(Mong goose, Fri 10 Nov 2006, 16:13, Reply)

once upon a time......
A mate was having a party, and so me and "the lads" decided to play a prank on said mate, by buying several kilos of pasta from macro and filling his bathtub to the top, and running the hot tap. as you can imagine he was extremely pleased. We then proceded to have a shaving foam fight in his kitchen (completely pissed by this time),and then take all the matresses of the beds and make a bouncy slide down the stairs. he has never had another party
(biggiantmat, Fri 10 Nov 2006, 16:09, Reply)

In terribly Bad Taste
The ski tour at university was always filled with vile fancy dress fun, like the guy who wrapped himself in clingfilm/condoms and relieved himself within the plastic and full view of everyone.

Somehow, someone thought it would be a marvellous plan to hold one 'bad taste' themed night. Various chavettes and badly dressed folk were accompanied by:

a group of bearded terrorists with guns yelling nothing but 'jihad' all night.

a ken bigley with gaffer around his neck

3 tsunami victims with 'i rode the wave 2006' signs who doused themselves in water all night

and 3 members of the KKK.

astoundingly noone got killed or arrested. which is more than i can say for the chav fancy dress night we had in newquay...
(hottwist, Fri 10 Nov 2006, 16:06, Reply)

Scampi goodness
A mate of mine had a very jealous, neurotic girlfriend. We were in the pub for one of our regular evenings listening to local bands etc. He had a bit of a whine about his missus giving him grief for getting home smelling of booze so I calmly finished my last scampi nik-nak and wiped the inside of the packet over his face. "See what she thinks of that then!"

Apparently he went home and his first words were "I am sorry that my face smells of minge but..."

Probably too far.
(lardaholics anonymous, Fri 10 Nov 2006, 16:05, Reply)

Don't know if it was too far....
In my hazy alcoholic days at uni, I lived with somebody called Chris... Me and one of my mates, whom we shall call Ben, used to, errm, do things.... My favourite was when we took it in turns to jizz into a pint glass and pour it over his door handle. He never found out about it because it'd dried by the time he used it, so I don't know if that was too far?

And we tied him up and left him in the middle of campus. Everybody thought that was too far.

And we emailed him from the college secretary's address, telling him that she wanted to see him at 9am every morning for looking at porn, each time a little further away from the flat. He fell for it everytime. Eventually, we decided that we should email him and tell him that the Vice-Chancellor wanted to see him for looking at child porn and his parents had been told. I got a disciplinary from the Provost and Chris said (these are his exact words): "If I had a knife, I'd stab him."

I think that may have been too far but it was worth it for the entertainment.
(mr major no thanks, I don't use the horse, Fri 10 Nov 2006, 16:01, Reply)

I'm always taking things too far...
Just over a year ago my cousin hanged himself. We had the funeral (obviously) and the usual wake and so on and he is still sorely missed.

Anyway, a week or so later it's my great-aunties surprise birthday party at a local club function room, and some style conscious relative had dotted black balloons around the place.

On seeing these. my dad voiced his style-guru opinion "the balloons look fucking miserable" to which I replied "at least they didn't cost anything as they were probably the ones from my cousins funeral". Cue the highest ever 'dissappointed/disbelieving relative' count that I have ever achieved...
(downhill without brakes . It was the worst day of my life, Fri 10 Nov 2006, 16:00, Reply)

Hatofjam
You should count yourself lucky it was his knuckles and not his knackers you could feel.
(turtles head is touching cloth poked a dwarf on the forehead at, Fri 10 Nov 2006, 15:57, Reply)

hmm...
I haven't seen a length/girth joke for ages...

I could make up a story about saying a girl's mum molested her at 2 years old back when I was 12...but I'm not going to...

...cos it really happened...

...never known such shame

Apologies for genitalia
( Extinct Jesus Dossier "...I think it counteracts Hitler's magic...", Fri 10 Nov 2006, 15:55, Reply)

the train
I was stuck in a massive people jam the other day at the train station. it was taking forever to get in - you know when everyone tries to get in at the same time people are getting out? twunts they is.

anyways - next thing i know there's shoutin goin on in front and behind. i cant quite catch it as i'm too far away, but i'm getting right nervous. Then some australian bastard walks on me fucking head!! it was only one step but he didnt even bloody ask?! and it fractured one of me vertabrae. I've been in physiotherapy for the last decade trying to resolve the hideous spasms!

and he had a stupid fuckin hat.
(hatofjam built a friend out of lego on, Fri 10 Nov 2006, 15:52, Reply)

Well, it was late....
....and so i had sex with all your most cherished childhood memories, and pets.

And it was nasty good fun.

Is that too far? Or how about the time i happily drained my sachel while imagining the gentle tears of my friends constipated hamster.

Bastrd thing bit me.
(SCW The Bandit 77, Fri 10 Nov 2006, 15:46, Reply)

Dim Dave
Not me but a guy a worked with when I was a barman, he was a joiner and worked mainly on building sites. As is often the case, there was guy on this site (we’ll call him Dave) who was a few blocks short of a full pallet, e.g. he’d stuffed a wad or rockwool under his shirt because the hod he was carrying was rubbing his shoulder raw…didn’t try that one again.

So, Dave was the one that had to make the tea at morning break time. The kettle and stove were in a portakabin on the site and ten minutes before break time, Dave would go in, fill the kettle and put it on to boil.

Now the lads were always ragging him but one day, one of them went just a bit too far. As they came in in the morning, someone had the bright idea of turning on the gas under the stove, just a little bit, but not lighting it….you can see what’s coming.

An hour or so later, Dave calmly walked into the site hut, pulled out his lighter and blew the hut to smithereens. Luckily he suffered no worse than losing most of his hair and slight burns to his hands and face, as he was wrapped up warm against the winter cold. The hut was a write-off though and my mate says there was an impressive fire ball from the hole where the window used to be.
(Che Grimsdale Best before:, Fri 10 Nov 2006, 15:41, Reply)

One of my "mates"
tends to drink a bit too much and then try and drive. We've stopped him on numerous occasions, but my favourite was one particularly sarcastic friend of mine who kept repeating to him the immortal line "I don't like you, but I don't want to see you die".
(LickOutTheJamsMotherfuckers!, Fri 10 Nov 2006, 15:36, Reply)

foodlesticks
in my - everythings gonna get me - phase, i took a gun to a mates party, just in case.
(hatofjam built a friend out of lego on, Fri 10 Nov 2006, 15:36, Reply)

Bit of a wide ranging Question this one.
My girlfriend and I were having a conversation, in the usual mock-bickering way, and she ended up flicking my ears, which was rather annoying. My response was something of an overreaction. "Stop that or I'll hold you down and rape you".

Class act me.
(LickOutTheJamsMotherfuckers!, Fri 10 Nov 2006, 15:34, Reply)

Follow Through
In the summer of 69....no wait summer of 2004 I decided to have a BBQ with a few friends before going out to town. While cooking the food on the BBQ one of my friends arrives and we have a drink while waiting for the food. After a short while I notice him pulling a funny face and placing his hand down the back of his jeans. Thinking this was a little strange I jokingly asked him if he had followed through? He denied the incident an stated it was just a quick surprise of braking wind. He soon proceeded to the toilet where he was for a good hour and a half, and in this time all my other friends had turned up. It was time to go to town and my mate decided to come from the toilet and we all went to town.

A week later at the local pub and we were all a little bit tipsy and my friend decided to inform me that he had followed through that day and he was so long in toilet as he blocked it while trying to flush his boxers away and used my soap to clean his rancid shitty arse by literally placing my soap up his arse. I would not have minded so much but it was the soap I use for my face which I carried on using until he told me!

Now he went to far!
(Lancey Founder of USSG (Universal Serial Sex Gods), Fri 10 Nov 2006, 15:34, Reply)

One friend ran over a rabbit with his car.
So we took it to a park, skinned it, cut off the head and threw the body over the fence into the city swimming pool.
( setimret likes his metaphors mixed, not stirred, Fri 10 Nov 2006, 15:31, Reply)