Random Title
We all know the "someone wrote gullible on the ceiling" trick, right?

It's even worse when you do it successfully outside.

Though, the girl did have at kid at 17, so it can't be said she was the brightest in the bunch.
(denki, Sat 23 Aug 2008, 4:41, Reply)

I once told
a girl at school that they had found a cure for aids.

It involved chopping both arms off of the victim and attaching an empty bin bag over one arm-hole and tying another full of 'new' blood over the other, then tippping the poor sod on his side so that his bad blood would run out into the empty bin bag and the new blood would flow in.

"Really?" she said, "My Uncle has aids, I'll phone him up and tell him."

Not sure who was the gullible one.
(dchurch bah, Sat 23 Aug 2008, 3:46, Reply)

Stinky burps
This story isn't about me but my best friend, when we were in high school (many years ago), standing in line at the kiosk she burped and it was rather smelly. I said to her, "You didn't hald a fart in earlier, did you?" She said she had, so I replied with "Well, that explains it, cause when you hold in a fart, it travels up your digestive system and comes out as a stinky burp" Poor thing believed me...
(myspunkyone, Sat 23 Aug 2008, 3:11, Reply)

My head...
.

"Expensive red wine doesn't give you hangovers"

Why did I believe this?

Meh. One of the worlds foremost experts on getting pissed. 30 years experience with the grape and the grain and I still fell for this one.


My.Head.Hurts.

Cheers
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Sat 23 Aug 2008, 3:03, 3 replies)

My grandfather...
...and therefore a position of authority, told young me that thunder was caused by "the clouds bumping together", a fact which I relayed on to a lot of other people, for probably a bit longer than I should have.

My father brought his mother a brush to complement her new microwave (this is back in the 80's), telling her to use it once a week "to sweep away the dead microwaves".

I spent an evening at university convincing my housemate that the sun revolved around the earth, but it turned out that this was wasted as up until that point THIS WAS WHAT HE ALREADY BELIEVED ANYWAY! ("I've never really thought about it" was his reasoning).
(Mousy Tongue ...Generally bemused by life..., Sat 23 Aug 2008, 2:37, 3 replies)

Not a multi-meter
My boss got me last week ... he asked if he could test out his new multi-meter. Said it would give me a bit of a nip. I figured, sure, those things don't put out much power.

The "multi meter" was actually an earth leakage tester, which apparently puts out about 1000 volts.

So where's my 50 quid then? :p
(plowna, Sat 23 Aug 2008, 1:17, 1 reply)

gullible-oh yeh
Every lassie i ever dated is a astonishing example of my amazing gullability
(shug, Sat 23 Aug 2008, 0:54, Reply)

Downs Syndrome + N64 =
Madness.

At school I had a friend called Tom. Tom was part of an intricate network of families who always seemed to be together, at each others houses and hanging about. However he wasnt too keen on get-togethers involving them because it meant he had to look after all the smaller children whilst the parents probably got drunk or summat. Anyways, there was this one kid called Michael. He had Downs Syndrome and thus was pretty difficult to control, at least he was when there were no grown ups to look after him. However, whenever Tom and his friends played on the N64 Michael would be absolutely fascinated and stare silently at the TV in amazement. One problem. He was always eager to play it himself. Now I dont know if you've ever witnessed a small child with Downs Syndrome trying to play GoldenEye but I can assure you its hilarious. Tom didnt think so. He didnt even want to be there, let alone have to play against Michael, who seemed to be a pro at running in circles in the corner and shooting the ceiling. Tom comes up with a genius plan that would enable him to play against people who could actually play properly and give himself a little amusement so he could spend his time not being miserable. The following scene unfolds...

Tom's mum peeks her head round the door and inquires thus:
"I hope you're letting Michael have a go too,"
"Yeah course, he is right now actually, look..." Tom replies whilst pointing towards Michael (who is jiggling around open mouthed and making excited noises)
"Ah lovely, glad to see you're all having fun" she says and vanishes back to the living room.

However, she failed to notice the TV showed a 2 player split screen deathmatch, yet there was 3 kids with N64 controllers...

Michael's wasnt plugged in.

Thank the lord for gullible disabled kids.
(This isnt taking advantage of disabled people. Little Michael was loving every moment and never found out)


Length? Probably about 3 hours of peace and quiet and a thoroughly contented young child.
(Shameless, Sat 23 Aug 2008, 0:36, 4 replies)

Meat Free
When I was younger I wanted to become a vegetarian because meat, for the most part, disgusted me and I felt my life would be compelete if I was allowed to eat vegetables and cereal for dinner every night. My mom, however, thought it was too much of a hassle, buying vegetarian meals and all -- so she let me believe, and I did so for years, that baloney as well as hot dogs were composed of "fake meat," a strange substance not actually containing any wretched meat. I was blissful in my vegetarianism for a long time and when my little sister came along I told her about the joys of fake meat. Except my mom was listening and, having forgotten that she was the one who had told me this, refuted my beliefs flatly.

I won't forgive her for this. Instead, I lived off of baloney and hot dogs, the worst meat there is, FOR NO FCKING REASON!

By the way, I'm still not a vegetarian. I love barbeques too much.
(BrainSurgerysFun, Sat 23 Aug 2008, 0:04, 1 reply)

Freddy Thrush
I used to live with a jack the lad who lived to get laid. This was a person who in the view of the house clearly put quantity wayyyy ahead of quality.

One day he overcame embarrassment to enter the living room and show us his crusty (due to a severe shower aversion), pubes and ask if he had an std.

To teach him a lesson, we were able to convince him that he had thrush. He was in hysterics and went through his phone leaving messages for every girl he had slept with "look you may have to get yourself checked out for thrush"

We were wetting ourselves laughing
"Its not funny you fackin' caants*, I may have an STD here"

when we explained that we were winding him up he stormed out the door.

For about two weeks afterwards Tampax/tenna lady samples came in the post addressed to a Freddy Thrush.


*he was a Londoner
( willenium Fist bump for verification, Sat 23 Aug 2008, 0:02, 2 replies)

Dogshit Smearing
My friend James used to be particularly nasty to his younger brother Keith, in the way that 13-year old and 10-year old boys are.

One day, whilst bored down the road from their house, James spies a particularly healthy, and fresh, dog turd glistening on the pavement.

"Keith, I bet you £5 you won't pick up that dog turd".

"Alright" ... and down he goes to gingerly pick up the offending object.

"No Keith, that's not worth a fiver, you've really got to mash it between your fingers and stuff".

Keith is somewhat dismayed by this new proviso on receiving the cash, but thinking of the crisp bluey he's about to get, decides it's a paltry price to pay and duly goes about making a shitcake between his hands.

"Can I have the five pounds now James?"

"Tell you what Keith, I'll make it £10 if you rub your hands on your face."

In for a penny, in for a pound (or ten) thinks young Keith and goes for it.

"Can I have the ten pounds now James?"

James, by now utterly wetting himself laughing, says "Fuck off Keith, don't be daft, I don't have ten quid", cackling as Keith turns and dejectedly bumbles home, catastrophically caked in slowly hardening tarry dog cack.

However, James is close enough behind Keith as they walk home to see his mother suddenly shoot out of the house like a greyhound, red in the face screaming "KEITH WHAT THE BLOODY HELL HAVE YOU BEEN DOING!?"

"Well Mum, James bet me £5..." etc., resulting in James not being able to sit down for a day or two, so I suppose the last laugh was on him, really.
(JohabMorelli is spenging merrily away, Fri 22 Aug 2008, 23:53, Reply)

guess what
i believed most of the stories on here...



ouch, sorry, had to be done ;)
(El, Fri 22 Aug 2008, 23:33, Reply)

Anniversary
For years my sisters and I knew my eldest sister was born out of wedlock while our parents happily thought we were innocent virginal little catholic girls who would never have sex before marriage, according to their example. We thought they did this by lying about their anniversary.

When they finally found out we knew, it was we who were in for the shock. They had actually been married as long as they said. My sister was actually a year older. She was 17, or so she thought, when all was revealed.

Needless to say it was fucking hilarious, how she never found out we do not know.
(WhitieMcPaleface, Fri 22 Aug 2008, 23:31, Reply)

Many years ago in secondary school... *wavy flashback lines*
A group of us were sitting and eating lunch, and two of my friends were joking about having 'Uncontrollable falling down syndrome'.

At which point one girl in the group exclaimed 'That's not funny, my uncle has that!'
(Generator cannot be named for legal reasons, Fri 22 Aug 2008, 22:59, 2 replies)

A good friend of mine
has a favourite that he loves to use when the occasion arises.

If he's in the company of someone who is tripping, he will look at them, squint and ask with a totally straight face:

"What the hell's wrong with your jaw?"

Cue the poor altered soul panicking and fondling their face in a horrified frenzy.
(Generator cannot be named for legal reasons, Fri 22 Aug 2008, 22:54, 2 replies)

Green Chocolate
Is soap. To be fair I was a very small goldfish there is however no excuse for falling for this one twice.
(DryGoldfish, Fri 22 Aug 2008, 22:50, Reply)

Not me, but my sister
When she was little and it was the middle of December I told her it was Christmas day so she opened all the presents under the tree.

Cut to my parents smacking her into next week and me sitting in the other room laughing like a mong because she's too young to explain her actions.

I still laugh to this day.

Apologies for length, she couldn't wait.
(Chojin doesn't know what day of the week it is, Fri 22 Aug 2008, 22:34, 4 replies)

My Dad Has Been to Mercury
He first explained that one side of Mercury is very hot, while the night side is very cold. So while he was on Mercury he would walk along the equator, when he got too hot on one side and too cold on the other, he would turn around and walk backwards.

This of course is very plausible and for years I told friends and teachers where he has been....
(BeardedChimp, Fri 22 Aug 2008, 22:24, Reply)

i once commented to my sister...
that the song on the car radio was playing slower than it should so i would need to charge the battery when we got home.

and she believed me.
( blaireau69 , the Cumbrian Travis Bickle., Fri 22 Aug 2008, 22:04, Reply)

The Roughnecks
This would be the vicious street gang that, according to my brother, ruled Stafford's back alleys with an iron fist, battling rival factions with boots and fists.
Street. Gang. Stafford. In retrospect it was highly unlikely that these three words would ever appear in a sentence together.
(Big D, Fri 22 Aug 2008, 22:04, 1 reply)

Coke bottles
Not strictly me being gullible, but still...

When I was about 6 and my brother about 8 I told my brother that if you bite the top of
those jelly 'Coke bottle' sweets and held them upside down you could pour
the Coke out... he waited ages and ages being careful to hold the bottle over his mouth so that he wouldn't be in trouble for pouring Coke on the floor.

After an hour or so, my dad walked in to see him at this and asked him what he was doing. When my brother finished repeating what I had told him, (mentioning that I had told him) my dad called me into the house red in the face, which I mistook for fury... and my brother hanging his head in shame.

Apparently it took my dad a good ten minutes to stop laughing.


I was a bugger of a sister...
(Kinabe is considering a new tattoo, Fri 22 Aug 2008, 21:50, 2 replies)

the crimson chin
as a child, i was more than a little gullible. as a result of this, i developed a sense of deep cynicism in my mid-teens. sometimes, this was not to my benefit...

one night, i was sitting in my parent's kitchen with my friends alison, joanne and sharon. we were having a good time, laughing and having more than a couple of drinks.
after a while, we started to play silly drinking games. one of these games was "stick the glass to your chin." this game is played by taking your empty glass, placing it over your chin and bottom lip and sucking all of the air out of it, until it sticks to your chin. this struck us as an hilarious activity but, as i said, we were drunk.
alison decided it would be funny to see how easily glasses could be pulled off each other's chins. not wanting to "lose" the game, i sucked as hard as i could, creating a forceful vacuum inside the glass and practically welding it to my chin.
when alison tried to pull the glass off my chin, it took several attempts.
finally, with a "pop!" glass and chin parted company.
the looks of horrified fascination on the girls' faces lasted about 3 seconds before being replaced with gales of laughter. "what's so funny?" i asked.
"your chin has turned purple!" howled joanne, tears of laughter now streaming down her face.
"no it bloody hasn't!" i replied. all three of them assured me that it had but, due no my new-found skepticism, i didn't believe them one bit.
"well," i said, "if my chin is purple, doing it again won't make any difference, will it?" and with this, i proceeded to vacuum-seal my chin inside the glass again.
by this point, my friends were practically wetting themselves with laughter. finally, the seeds of doubt began to grow. i pulled the glass off my chin.
"you are joking, aren't you?" i asked, with more than a hint of hope in my voice. shaken heads and more laughter had me racing to the large mirror in the hallway.

my chin wasn't purple.

it was fucking black.

i had sucked all the blood in my chin to the surface, causing an almighty black bruise that didn't fade for a little over 2 months.
2 months of looking a complete and total tit. not even pancake make-up would cover it.

they've never let me live it down.

length? 2 months, just over.
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Fri 22 Aug 2008, 21:16, 6 replies)

Taxi!
A couple of jobs ago I worked for a company repairing computer monitors and other such electronic goodies. I was but a lowly workshop administrator and at first I was quite shy as I was fresh from failing 6th form college and had never worked in a male-dominated environment before. A couple of years roll by and I have built up a rapport with various colleagues throughout the different departments in the building – the engineers, couriers, customer services and warehouse lads. It’s these last rabble of men who play an important role in my tale of woe.

One summer, the company had quite the backlog of work to be dealt with so some agency staff were recruited to help in the warehouse. The agency guys pulled their weight on the whole and there wasn’t much of a problem with them. A couple of them even had excellent sense of humours, got on well with the warehouse staffs’ filthy conversations (alas, I was sometimes privy to all manner of ‘untoward’ topics during my frequent visits to the territory of the forklift truck) and were game for a laugh.

One poor soul is the hero (?) of this story, for it was he and not I who was the recipient of the prank.

I must stop here and ensure all you dear readers that the deed was not malicious, racist or xenophobic in anyway whatsoever. Our hero was from Asia, somewhere around the sub-continent. His nationality escapes me along with his name. I must assure you all that he had the best sense of humour of all the agency workers employed at the time of the incident, played a lot of jokes on everyone else and rubbed along nicely with everyone he worked alongside.

Let me now introduce you to the players of the piece. There is myself, of course, Sarah. Our victim shall be known as ‘X’. Two of the regular warehouse workers are ‘P’ and ‘T’. A roving courier shall be named as ‘S’. Finally one of the parts stores employees is ‘J’.

Part of my role as an administrator in the workshop was to handle requisition forms for spare parts for the engineers use. An engineer would sidle up to my desk and swipe the requisition pad for whatever nefarious means he had in mind. (Probably ordering parts, given the nature of the pad…) He would complete the necessary sections, tear off the section and return the pad to my desk and unceremoniously dump his completed form in my in-tray for me to process. At this point, I would sigh dramatically, retrieve the form from the depths of my in-tray and, clutching the form, make a great play of dragging my overworked carcass to the parts store hatch.

The buzzer for immediate and prompt (hah!) attention would be depressed, the length of time dependant on the mood I was in and if I wanted to rile the parts administrator or not. The parts monkey would sign the form off, steal the yellow copy for his library of records and return the remaining to forms to me. I would then skip gaily back into the depths of the workshop, present the white copy to the engineer in question and obsessively file my very own blue copy into the relevant folder.

Now, from time to time, other departments needed to requisition items as well and this would dealt with in the same way. When I write ‘other departments’, this includes the warehouse. So one fine sunny morning, I was strolling through the goods in section of the warehouse on a covert mission to find out why my rambunctious herd of engineers were leaving some jobs longer than others on the in-racks. Suddenly I heard a noise. It sounded like two grown men conniving a naughty deed and sniggering childishly about the same. Nosy as I am, I strode around the other side of the rack and confronted the gents.

“I dread to think what you two are up to now,” I say.
“Nothing!” cries T, trying to compose himself.
“Piffle and tosh,” I intone, “you and P are always up to something.”
“Whatever can you mean, Sarah?” implores P.
“You know fully well what I am getting at. I demand you let me in on the japery this instance or I shall…”
“’Or you shall’ what?” asks P.
“I’ll sulk! Yes, that’s what I’ll do! I’ll sulk as only a twenty-one year old girl can do! What will you do then?”

Knowing full well what a first-rate sulk I can produce and having experienced the full-blown stroppy cow I can be, T and P relent. Plus, they know I share some of the meaner aspects of their taste in humour.

“Well,” starts T. “We were telling X about how requisition forms work.”
“Snigger,” murmurs P.
“Yes, well what’s so funny about that?” demand I.
“Shut up, you impatient harridan, and we shall tell” T continues.
“Yes,” concurs P.
“Well, you know how X gets to and from work thanks to his better half, Mrs. X?” asks T.
“Yes, I do. I saw her not yesterday evening, as a couple of her children were trying to dive under the wheels of my car as I tried to make good my escape from the shackles of gainful employment.” I describe.
“That’s it!” Exclaims P.
“Well we managed to convince X that he can fill out a requisition form for a taxi to and from work each day!” T rounds off triumphantly.
“Guffaw!” bellows P.
“What a completely diabolical, evil and wicked wheeze!” I agree.
“Golly, isn’t it?” T and P utter.
“Yes, and you know what? I can make it work.” I crow, as the seeds of the dastardly scheme are planted and start to sprout in my mind.
“How?!” Clamour T and P are desperate for more on my devious plan.
“Simple,” I begin smugly, “get him to fill out a form, completing five lines, label each line with a weekday starting this coming Monday and in the description field put ‘taxi to / taxi from work’!”
“Then you’ll process it like a proper requisition!” P has got the gist already.
“Absolutely. J in parts will sign the form too, just in case X wants to actually witness his request going through. One of you two needs to brief J. Now!” I know J, not being the parts supervisor, will be game for a laugh too.
“Hurray!” T and P emit happily.

I left T and P to carry out their part in the deed and prance back through the doors to the workshop and to my desk.

Soon, X appears at my desk and asks for the requisition forms. I can see T and P over the far side of the workshop at the warehouse doors, giggling like a pair of chimpanzees on ecstasy. I tear off a form for X and he heads back to the warehouse. I smile to myself, and get on with some proper work, like haranguing an errant engineer or two.

Shortly, X reappears at my desk, accompanied by P who I hear telling X to put the form in my in-tray. X does so, and hovers for a moment. I enquire.

“Everything alright, X?”
“Yes, great…”
“But?” I prompt.
“Well,” starts X, “I think T and P are pulling my leg so is it okay if I come with you to get my form signed off?”
“Absolutely. Let’s go over to parts now and get it sorted.”

I take a firm grip of the form and set off towards the parts store hatch. By now, P has scarpered back into the warehouse. I know full well that A will have spoken to J in parts and prepped him on the gag so I don’t hesitate for a moment. I saunter to the hatch and give the buzzer and extra forceful ‘bzzzzzzt!’.

The hatch doors swing open, not spectacularly, but with a certain kind of unexciting lacklustre normality. “Good, J’s playing along” I think to myself. I slide the form over to J for inspection. He does just that. He doesn’t embellish, doesn’t raise an eyebrow – not a single flinch or something that could make X suspicious. J actually grunts at me and scrawls his John Hancock on the form almost sloppily. He removes his yellow copy as per procedure and gives me back the other two pages. I give the white one to X and tell him to sling his hook, which he does.

Upon returning to my desk, I make sure X has definitely gone back to the warehouse, and tuck my blue copy of the form in one of my desk drawers. I even allow myself a little smile.

Lunchtime passes by uneventfully, and before I know it, it’s about 3.00pm. Taking my daily cue, I proceed back to the warehouse to make sure the guys are getting their deliveries stacked up on their pallets and to give dispatch a hand with their paperwork. S the regular courier pulls up and slopes into the warehouse and hovers near the dispatch office door and the warehouse terminal point and starts on the routine abuse dishing out and receiving.

I beckon S into the office and tell him to shut the door behind him. I then proceed to inform him of the morning’s hi-jinks which he approves of heartily. As he’s the regular driver, I tell him to play along, before ejecting him back out into the warehouse. I follow him a few moments later with handfuls of dispatch paperwork for T, P and X to be cracking on with. I am happy to witness S revelling in really confirming morning’s events with glee and absolute believability.

Success! X is completely taken in. A decent piece of mischief expertly carried out. And that’s how I was party to taking advantage of someone’s gullibility.

Now, before you get up in arms, I will assure you that we all came clean to X before S left with the days’ deliveries. X had a mini-tantrum, but only for a short while before he found it just as funny as the rest of us. Oh, how we laughed! T and P got a small earful off Mrs. X the next morning, who had also seen the funny side. And for the rest of that summer, X was a very good sport and even taped his white copy of the form up on the wall in the warehouse for everyone to see and subsequently take the piss out of him over.

Length? Sod that, girth’s where it’s at: a requisition form is about 15cm wide!
(Sahara Desert http://www.twitter.com/thesaharadesert for swears, Fri 22 Aug 2008, 21:04, 3 replies)

Not me but my brother's girlfriend
He told her our Westie had Down's Syndrome. "She has short legs, big eyes and she's really loving" said he.

"Aww that's sooooo sad," says she.
(Medibot, Fri 22 Aug 2008, 20:52, Reply)

Actually there are a few...
You know that green netting that they out round buildings when renovating to stop masonry falling? My mum told me it was for catching butterflies.

Why are my eyes brown? Cos you're full of chocolate.

I also believed I had "Made in Taiwan" printed on my neck til I was quite old.

Parents are twats!
(Medibot, Fri 22 Aug 2008, 20:49, Reply)

And one more...
Lightguy told me in school that Steven Hawking was cockney rhyming slang for walking.

The irony doesn't escape me....
now.
(Sir_Psycho, Fri 22 Aug 2008, 20:46, Reply)

I'm not stoopid honest
But I believed Mr Medi when he told me that prawns were blue before cooking because they were cold :(
(Medibot, Fri 22 Aug 2008, 20:44, Reply)

I believed...
...that bitch when she said my call was important and that a representative would be with me shortly.

She said it every 45 seconds for over an hour before I quit believing her.
(ladydyani, Fri 22 Aug 2008, 20:34, 1 reply)

Oh God where to start
I am notoriously gullible so here are just a few of my more shameful moments

- I believed Mr T died of aids for years till I saw him in an advert and was overjoyed

- I believed Zack from Saved By The Bell died of aids. I don't know where all these aids rumours came from.

- I believed that Cat and Dog were actually short for Catapod and Dogoplex, coming from the towns they were originally discovered in. I assumed it was latin?

- When I was 8 I asked my dad for a glass of water, which when I received it, contained a newt. My dad just told me it must have come out of the tap, then going to a corner to giggle to himself for his genius being the cheeky Iranian sort. I believed this until I was 17 when I retold my story to a friend who responded with a blank look saying 'Sir_Psycho, that just isn't true'

- My dad, in an effort to stop me playing by the pond, told me touching frogs would paralyse me. However, when I sat really still in the living room to see how he'd react to my fatal paralysis I got no reaction. He just thought I was being good.

- My friend told me there was an obscure and archaic law which allowed immigrants to be legally entered into the country if they were carried on your back

- This is perhaps the most painful, but I was victim to a cruel ruse when I was 5 thinking I completed the first sonic on the megadrive when really I just had the dud controller and was watching my sister play. Sure sonic never jumped when I told him to, but I just thought it was really good A.I

- I thought Pink Floyd were originally named after a Jazz artist Floyd Pinkerton.(I now know the truth)

- When I was little I was told trees had feelings, so I spent time dancing round the old ones, petting them to comfort them.

And that's all for now, but I'm sure there's some particularly painful ones I've blocked.
(Sir_Psycho, Fri 22 Aug 2008, 20:31, 5 replies)