Easyjet flights to Portugal...
Wanted a cheap flight to Lisbon, but it was just too expensive.

Went to Faro instead.
(radio_shak has questions, got answers, on, Sun 12 Nov 2006, 20:45, Reply)

My greatest regret...
Is my lateness in answering QOTW.
(jamesthegill opens new tabs with his scroll wheel, Sun 12 Nov 2006, 20:28, Reply)

Curry house, Llandudno
Me and my mate show up, and we both order the same thing. We wanted a super hot curry, and it wasn't listed on the menu.

We end up crying and snotty nosed after the sheer amount of chillis in it. It was like giving a hot poker a blowjob.

I guess then that time we went two phaal....
(rhyswynne - on every social network mullarkey known to man, Sun 12 Nov 2006, 20:18, Reply)

Pube Joint!
There was alot more to this story but drugs have whittled away the memory. During my first year of uni in Leeds we have the pleasure/mispleasure of living with a lad who although harmless just ending up grating on you within seconds of making your aquaintence. He was a nice enough lad and what follows in this story is something I will forever feel slightly ashamed of, although when I get pissed with my friends and retell it becomes hilarious once more. After ditching the guy in the local club (evoluton-shite!!!) We returned back to halls to drink and continue the merryment. It when at this point we realised aforementioned 'twat' had had left his room unlocked, big mistake. It started with more innocent pranks, like hiding mouldy food around his room, removing all his shoelaces and stealing his bed sheets. Then someone decided that upon 'twats' return we would offer him a compensatory spliff for 'forgetting' to tell him we were leaving the club. Only this spliff was not to be laden with marajuana but only the finest pubic hair that ten minutes, 10 pissed lads and a pair of scissors could muster. As he was so pissed from the night he didnt realise the foul stench of burnt hair upon sparking the joint, he smoked the entire spliff!! Although I think my mate went a bit too far when he did a shit in the pocket of his freshly washed jeans!!
(lankynyack, Sun 12 Nov 2006, 19:07, Reply)

Nothing deserves that.
Last year I watched (with moderate horror) as one of the rough Swindon kids kicked an acquaintance of mine in the bollocks because said friend slashed their football with a biro (they blasted it at him - just cause).

Apparently pikey's way of thinking was "I lose a ball, you lose a ball"
Blood, screaming and expulsion followed.
He lost his left testicle.

Now that was too far.
(Good Looking Deity Grew a magnificent beard on, Sun 12 Nov 2006, 18:45, Reply)

doors are always fun
Back in the day, when I were but a wee nipper, my brother and I used to have a whale of a time seeing how insane with rage we could make the other, before one of us flipped out and went on the rampage. My brothers favourite tactic was to egg me on until I just about lost it, then punch me and run to his room and lock the door, where he could safely piss himself laughing at my vain attmepts to gain entry. On one occasion however, I lost it more completely than I ever have in my life and attacked the door in a juiced-up frenzy. Now being an inside door, it was quite thin, made of chipboard or some such useless material. Anyhow in my fit of rage I managed to kick through the door, to the suprise of my brother on the other side, and then spent the next half an hour getting my leg out and covering it up.

The best bit? Such was the mastery of our covering up skills, my parents didn't find out there was a hole in the door till we moved out three years later...

First QOTW post! Can I get a WooYay! Apologies for length, girth, weight and suprisingly enough density.
(deathcakes, Sun 12 Nov 2006, 17:37, Reply)

mad dogs and englishmen
Back in 1994 i was living in Derby, the job i had moved down from Glasgow to do was now redundant, as was I. So the baking midlands summer was now mine to enjoy.

A few important things happened that summer, i met Dave, sometimes dope dealer, but a real great guy, and boomerangs. We had really gotten into them in a big way and had a number of different ones between us. Many an hour was spent down the Stockbrook park, pinging them about the place, rarely catching them though. One particularly hot day, Dave comes over with his 'rangs and suggests we go get some cheap beer and hit the park. We duly got the beers and a few smokes and went over to the Arboretum to chill in the summer sun. After about 4 hours we decide to go get more supplies. Dave wasn't adverse to a bit of the old DUI. We decided to head for Allestree park via Sainsburys, we picked up more beer and a small picnic wherein i tried hoummus for the first time and how very addictive it is as well.

Anyway, we had been drinking steadily for the best part of the day, it is now 5pm or so and we are down beside a small lake and there are fishermen etc, twitching away. I throw Daves 'rang the wrong way and it rises really high and crashes back into the ground and snaps in half, FUCK. He picks mine up and standing way to close to the trees throws it shittily and it spins behind him, right into a big copse of trees. So that's that, we are now 'rang-less and a bit annoyed. So we sit down to roll a doobie and contemplate our bad luck when 2 wee idiot guys start to pitch a tent right fucking next to where we are sitting, as in 1-2 feet away. The tent i suppose was to shelter them and their gear as they fished away. So we mutter under our breaths and over our breaths. A drunken Scotsman and a shaven headed potential thug both acting aggresively at the invasion of space didn't seem to phase them. The thing was they could have pitched the tent in a number of places, but right beside us was their preferred spot.

After erecting the large orange hovel they fucked off somewhere, we decided to put all the rubbish from our picnic under the flysheet and burn the fuckers tent down. So we did.

As it started to burn we started to run, back up the hill towards the car park. I must have gone 30 yards and i turned round to see the tent completely ablaze, very flammable. So we run on a bit more, stop and look back to see the two wee guys returning to their now destroyed tent while Dave shouts down at them that they should 'put another sausage on the barbie'. By this time lots of people have seen the disturbance, as there is a golf course at the top of the hill. I drag Dave back to the car and insist he gets to fuck right away. Does he, does he fuck.

He drives along the footpath at the top of the hill and right beside the tee off point for the third hole or whatever, pamping his horn , then down onto the grass, shouting abuse down at the guys at the tent, skidding about like a fucking maniac, pissed up on booze and hashish. By now i was getting very fretfull and suggested we leave right away. We did, but what a day, he really did take it too far and i am still surprised we never got arrested.
(Cancer Joy was short lived, Sun 12 Nov 2006, 17:36, Reply)

NHS Fun
OK Tax payers, here's how your money was spent in the early 90's.
I was working on an EMI (Alzheimers etc) ward when I was asked if I could help out in a community group home for a bit in a nearby town. Eager to get out of bum wiping I readily agreed.
So I start my new job in a large Midlands town, there's the boss, me and 3 unqualified staff and 5 residents. Initially all is OK. I work 9-5, often on my own and the residents all go into town each day from about 8:30 to 4, so I hardly see them. I occupy my days by reading, going shopping and sleeping (pre interweb days). Once a week or so me and the boss do a shop for the unit - this involves about 12 bags from Tesco, although oddly only about 10 bags leave the bosses car - upon asking Im told "Its a perk of the job" - No deary, it's stealing, and I refuse to "join in". Initially I'm not too fussed as it's only once a month or so. But then it's more often 'til it's 3-4 bags a week going to her home. The remaining staff let our line manager know and she does...nothing.
At this point I'm called and told they need an acting manager at another home in town, as their boss is on long term sick leave. And again I readily agree to get out of this situation (which had all the staff worried they would get blamed for NHS fraud etc).
So I leave and start my new job - about this time in my life things aren't good at home with Mrs. Kite (medical, nothing "terminal" but very stresful for us both). So my mind is elsewhere and I'm a bit stressed. Now, my shifts should have been 9-5 again, with unqualifieds doing 3-11, a sleep in and then 7-12 (or something like that). So my shift becomes 11-3.30 most days, but I'm still getting full pay and travel money !(woo yay!). Not bad. I still get my afternoon snooze etc, and have a kebab for me lunch (on expenses) a few days a week.
It all sort of ended when my new line manager visited me on her first day. She comes in to find me with my feet up on a coffee table, kebab and coffee in hand watching the Test Match. She is not impressed and eventually politely asks me if I could stop watching the TV and talk to her.
It was about then I realised I had been taking the piss a bit. And honestly looking back I wasnt really that happy - I now work a lot harder and actually enjoy my work more. But it was a pretty fun time looking back on it.

(still miss my afternoon snooze though)
(kitescreech still here, Sun 12 Nov 2006, 17:29, Reply)

Over The Top
Being a priest I see a lot of troubled people and hear a lot of their problems. But sometimes, you have to have a sense of perspective.

Although I am a man of the cloth I am not the product of a 'virgin birth' or some other hokum like that (Whoops, sorry!) and I do have relatives and this story is about my Great Grandfather.

I only remember him vaguely since he died when I was about three years old but there's one thing I can recall and it's always stuck in my mind. He was a soldier in World War One and as such was based in a filthy, muddy, rat-ridden trench somewhere in what is now known as 'The Continent'. My Great Grandmother died a few years after him so I remember her better and she always said that he was a top bloke who had helped the world more than we knew. Well, she didn't call him a "top bloke", but it was words to that effect.

Anyhoo, back to the story. I recall he had a dodgy left thumb; no feeling or movement in it, and had a weird black scar around it. As a child I had innocense and curiosity on my side, so didn't have the senstivity of age and asked him straight out how he came to have this oddly deformed digit. He went quiet for a few seconds and then told me that he'd tell me but I was never to ask him about it again. With wide eyes I sat and waited for him to speak.

Apparently, during the war there were not enough guns to go around so some of the soldiers in his troop of men just had knives to defend them against the bosh and were expected to just run up to a German soldier and stab the crap out of them. Sorry, I mean 'perform gallant hand-to-hand combat' (yeh, right). He was shit-scared because of this and knew that at some stage he was going to climb out of his trench and run towards a load of equally shit-scared Germans - who had guns.

The time came and the whistle was blown which was the signal for the soldiers to go 'Over The Top'. He climbed the ladder and ran, knife in hand, towards the enemy gunfire, his fellow soldiers collapsing and dying around him. Being the clumsy twat he was (runs in the family, believe me) he fell over a lump of dirt and putting his hands in front of him to break his fall neatly sliced off his left thumb! It was left hanging by a strip of skin and being the man he was he tucked it into his palm, clenched his fist around it and continued running at the Germans. Unfortunately, in his confusion, pain and panic he was running the wrong way and ended up falling into his own trench!

At that point he gave up and looked at his bleeding stump of a half-thumb. The pain started to really kick in then and he realised that if nothing was done he'd be sans-digit for the rest of his life (however short or long that was going to be) so not having any medical help he jammed the thumb back onto his hand, ripped a piece of cloth off his uniform and wrapped his hand up with it.

So that's how he got the strange scar. By fighting (well, attempting to) during one of the World's most grisly wars.

I know it's a day late but when you see someone selling poppies in the street/mall/wherever, put whatever you can into their collection tin and please don't take a poppy - it does cost them money and you should just be happy in yourself that you've helped some of the people who have suffered more than you'll ever know.

Jerry

Sorry for length, it's the strain of hanging by my nailed hands. Ohhhh, please don't smite me lord! (What the fuck is 'smiting' anyway?)
( Fr_Jerry_McGwier looked over both shoulders at, Sun 12 Nov 2006, 16:07, Reply)

The little compressed pellets
in rabbit food happened to fit into the barrel of a .177 air rifle. I had some fun shooting at stuff for about an hour until I hit upon the great idea of shooting my little sister in the leg. The pathetic phut of the gun was soon replaced by the unearthly screaming of the poor child. I grovelled, begged and generally did everything possible to appease her so she wouldn't tell Mum.Although the pellet didn't penetrate the flesh the bruise was something to behold, 50p sized blackness surrounded by concentric rings of purple. I lived in fear for a long time but mother never saw.
( Infidel , shit and wrong, Sun 12 Nov 2006, 15:18, Reply)

I went too far
I hunted down all the people posting answers relating to journeys which aren't funny or original and brutally murdered them.

What was going to far was me posting parts of their mutilated corpses to their families and friends.
(DRAGONSLAYER, Sun 12 Nov 2006, 14:37, Reply)

Filthy hashers
Way back at university I used to play accordion in a ceilidh band called Batter the Haddock. Among our drinking dens was a pub called the St Wadegund - well, ok, Radegund, but the landlord (a really fat bloke called Terry with a penchant for 'grain spirit') couldn't really pronounce his Rs.

Tewwy was a leading light in the Hash House Harriers. The 'Hashers' are an amateur running club which started in Singapore in WWII, or something. They're now a multinational fellowship with an endearing sense of bonhomie and a delightful, irreverent nature.

Except for Tewwy's bunch in Cambridge, who are a bunch of filthy feckers.

The Hashers were having an awayday somewhere in the Northamptonshire countryside, and asked us to come along to provide musical entertainment. For some reason (probably the influence of the gwain spiwit) we agreed. So the next Sunday, we trooped up to the station at about 9am for a journey on their fun bus to the middle of nowhere.

The singing started on the bus, led by a really fat 40-something woman in appalling leggings with holes in unfortunate places. None of the songs were very polite. Most of them had a chorus of "Down down down down down down" etc. (You can read a few of them at the Hash House Hymnal webpage.)

From this you will guess that our ultimate destination was, in fact, a pub, and the brief run (which we declined to join) was followed by an all-day drinking session.

One of the songs was "Yogi Bear", a particularly obscene saga about a bunch of cartoon bears and their sexual preferences. ("I know a bear that you don't know / Yogi, Yogi / I know a bear that you don't know / Yogi, Yogi Bear"; "Suzie she has great big tits / Suzie, Suzie / Suzie she has great big tits / Suzie, Suzie Bear" and so on.) This went on for about 15 minutes, all the while accompanied by our matchless musical accompaniment.

Yogi Bear went down so well that we thought we should probably follow up with our own, improvised version to the same tune.

"Tewwy takes it up the arse,
Tewwy, Tewwy,
Tewwy takes it up the arse,
Tewwy and his bus.

"Tewwy and his bus! Tewwy and his bus.
Tewwy takes it up the arse, Tewwy and his bus.

At this point the Hashers were looking a bit uneasy, but we ploughed on.

"Tewwy's got a girlfriend, Tewwy, Tewwy,
Tewwy's got a girlfriend, she's a big fat bitch.

"She's a big fat bitch! She's a big fat bitch.
Tewwy's got a girlfriend, she's a big fat bitch.

"Tewwy's on the register, Tewwy, Tewwy,
Tewwy's on the register, they know where he lives...."

By now the whole pub had fallen silent and we realised that, even by the standards of the filthiest running club in the entire world, we had gone too far.

Although they did invite us back the next year.
(ChaRleyTroniC is invincible with his chips and cheese, Sun 12 Nov 2006, 14:11, Reply)

ASBO
Well, I were int library with a couple of mates.
The fucking big lezza librarian started having a go saying we were making trouble. So we thought, fuck you dyke, We will make trouble.

My mate who has the mind of a 3 year old came up with an idea, we turned it into a plan.
About 10 minutes later I was 20 stone lighter and there was shit all over the walls.

That was probably too far. I got a behavioural order for it. Boss.
(Daedalus, Sun 12 Nov 2006, 14:09, Reply)

im a cnuting shitter
oh damn! i thought it said "you can't go far enough"

:'(
(MajorAsshole when will then be now?, Sun 12 Nov 2006, 14:04, Reply)

watered down vodka - naah, he won't notice!
When I was a small squirt, I went on this kids camp in the countryside for poor inner city kids. (I live in Cornwall now)

Relatively early on, one of the kids had to pop to a member of staffs tent to fetch something, and he noticed a bottle of vodka in the tent pocket.

Late at night when all the staff were getting stoned around the fire, we snuck to the tent, took a swig each, and topped it up with water.

rinse and repeat until the second from last night, when I went a bit too far, and swigged down three quarters of the already highly diluted vodka. Basically what was left was the essential oils version of vodka, and wouldn't have got a gnat pissed.

I seem to remember that was the night I was dancing around and fell in a cowpat. And then when member of staff finally remembered he had some vodka, discovered it'd been miraculously turned to water, I had to act as sober as possible and hope he wouldn't smell my breath.

I got away with it somehow - either that or he felt sorry for me!
(teasus likes tea, Sun 12 Nov 2006, 14:00, Reply)

You can never go too far
When I was a child me and my brother got into a fight over who got the last bag of Chocolate Buttons and me being the older sibling, I won. I went into the Kitchen to get a drink only to come back out to find him sitting on the floor eating the Chocolate Buttons.

I ran towards him and kicked him full pelt in the face, bursting his nose and spraying blood all over the floor.

Too far? That wasn't far enough!
(Peter Sutcliffe's Right Bollock, Sun 12 Nov 2006, 13:08, Reply)

mayB a little too far
i woke up this morning with a smile unusual for a sunday morning, pondering this smile i looked left noticing one of my m8s (female) completely naked at the side of me (cue flashback)out round town...party at mates beer..beer..more beer m8s mom n dads bedroom hot naked friend squeeky bed cue 12 people bursting in flipping light on n screaming get in there...i some how doubt im going to live this down but goddamn it im still smiling!!!!
(R0z, Sun 12 Nov 2006, 12:28, Reply)

Cough
I thrusted too far...


She choked
(Good Looking Deity Grew a magnificent beard on, Sun 12 Nov 2006, 12:19, Reply)

So bored we went hillwalking
One of my friends "back in the day" and myself made a point of trying to do something interesting and exciting every Sunday. Sadly, this Sunday was different. The world was boring. We were boring. We ended up driving about in the hills aimlessly, until we found a signpost that pointed to some tourist monument, up a hill.

Being exceedingly bored, we stopped and began walking up it. As we walked up, the hill got steeper on either side of the path... there were rocks sitting there so we started rolling them off the edge. We got up to boulders about a foot in diameter, pushing them off, hearing them go bouncing down the hill and the odd splash as they hit water. Again, I can only stress how bored out of our skull we were that this was a highlight of the day.

In the distance was the holy grail... a HUGE rock that looked about 2 feet wide! It was just begging to be pushed... so we did. Off it went... *THUMP*... *THUMP*... *THUMP*...

then - "BAAAAAA!" *THUMPTHUMP* and two loud splashes. We still don't know what it hit, or if it survived, but on hindsight, that HUGE boulder was maybe one too far.
(ZeInno, Sun 12 Nov 2006, 3:54, Reply)

Back in school
we had a really bitchy student teacher, so one night we decided to play a few practical jokes on her. We put bricks behind the wheels of her car so she couldn't back out of her parking space, we drew big cocks in the condensation on the roof, and tied empty pots of Pringles to the back in 'just married' fashion.

We were cofnronted by an irate headmaster the next day. We tried to deny some of the charges so we were asked to write an account of what happened from our point of view.

We probably took it too far when we returned with a neatly bound, professionally printed 12-page document outlining the events complete with photos labelled 'Fig.1.2'...etc
(jacob, Sun 12 Nov 2006, 3:32, Reply)

Humptydumpty
You are SO going to regret writing that in the morning. Gentlemen, we have a winner.
(menashem, Sun 12 Nov 2006, 1:51, Reply)

I signed up to
the internet :(
(no friends Tasting your cake., Sun 12 Nov 2006, 1:45, Reply)

Don't konw if really counts...
but when I was young & foolish, me & some mates used to hide behind walls/hedges & chuck bangers at passing army patrols.
We only did it for a few months & somehow didn't get shot :)
Edit: this was in Norn Iron
( chunderbunny lacking humus since, Sun 12 Nov 2006, 1:16, Reply)

i'm going to hell.
have just stagered gome af sast as i can from party
still very drunk
it's 1:16 am here.
have just shagged my mate's girlfriend on the balcony.. 'not good. not good at all.
miniskirts: great
too much drink: bad.,
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Sun 12 Nov 2006, 0:18, Reply)

"the pegs, the pegs!"
so i was at a party last weekend, my friends parents were out(you know the drill), lots of people, somebody bought a load of weirdos, who discovered the peg carrier/bag in the kitchen and proceeded to put pegs on everything.
come the next morning, my friend walks in and says "theres pegs everywhere!", he was right, but he didnt realise it, there were alot, so we collected them, but the peg bag was still only half full, sod it, we carried on cleaning. somebody had pissed in the sink and i went to find some sink cleaner underneath the sink, the copper piping was covered in pegs and a new level of peg hunting began. they were everywhere, behind the curtain rails, on light fittings, books... everything (they were quite literally "coming out of the god damn walls!"), we were drunk, but we weren't that drunk and none of us had seen anybody pegging to this scale. they took it too far, whoever they were

(we still havent found all the pegs, they're there though)
(so_im_cynical, Sat 11 Nov 2006, 23:48, Reply)

Once upon a time...
I wrote something in Comic Sans.
Can you ever forgive me?
( Logiconor ) (, Sat 11 Nov 2006, 23:24, Reply)

they sprayed WD40 or some such lubricant on the brake discs of my motorbike
oh how i laughed.

all the way across three roundabouts it was hysterical.

if i wasn't already so used to nasty accidents it could have really freaked me out.
(Nobody Likes Mortal Wombat, Sat 11 Nov 2006, 22:45, Reply)

Weekend away in Dublin
Rory having sex in my bed wasn't nice.

Rory having sex on my prized Joy Division-tastic trenchcoat was even less nice.

Rory (18) having sex with Samantha (14) and thus qualifying for a free 25 year holiday at Her Majesty's pleasure probably edged it into the realm of 'too far'.

Samantha being on her period just dropkicked it over the line.
(SurferRosa causing the lamentation of the womenfolk since, Sat 11 Nov 2006, 22:13, Reply)

Too far?
One time my (deep breath) brothers, girlfriends, brother and his friends smashed up my brothers car. police decided not to turn up for a good few hours while they continued smashing the car up, and got away very easily.

So bro waited for him where he knew he would be and ran over him in his car. Too far? maybe.
(Jimmai, Sat 11 Nov 2006, 21:40, Reply)