Why has B3ta made me relive this WWWWWWWWHHHHYYYYYYYYYYYYY.
bEFORE i START-fecking caps lock- my tale of woe, a little background.

I used to live in Bangkok, and also like a bit of a drink. As such for many years I used to wake up still langered with strange girls in my bed. The usual thing to do in this situation is grope around a bit, then have a nice drunken bleary eyed morning shag then send the young lady on her way, with the money in her purse to keep her kids in shoes for another month.

You think this is going to be about waking up with a ladyboy don't you. You're wrong, that was last weeks QOTW. This is much much worse.

So I'd been away for a few years, and it was time to pop home to visit friends and family for a week. I arrived had dinner with the parents, and it was off down the pub for a session with the mates.

Now I like to think I can take my drink, but the combination of getting on the plane pissed, drinking for the entire flight- good old Thai air, they still ply you with drink to this day- then an evening down the local on top of my jet lag, and I was in a right state. At least I think I was, as I can't remember this part of the story, I'm pieceing it together from what I've been told, and a little deduction.

So it's 2 in the morning, the local gorgonzola city club is kicking out, and I need to go back to the parents house for some long overdue sleep.

But on arriving at the front door I had the old can't get the key in the lock problem, so in the end settled for sleeping on the garden path in front of the front door.

Now my dad is a baker, and as such gets up very early in the morning to go to work. So at around 5 he opens the front door to find me asleep on the path, wakes me up, tells me I'm an idiot, and sends me inside to go to bed.

I stumble upstairs climb into bed, and all is well with the world. I can remember none of this.

What I can remember, is waking up about an hour later- why is it when you've been on a proper bender you can only sleep for a short time, when what you need is a good eight hours?- in a darkened room, pissed out of my face, and a bit disorientated.

Now I thought I was still in my room in Bangkok, and true to form there was a nice warm body in the bed next to me. So what else could I do, but try and get it on. But things didn't go as usual, my advances were met with screams of Eden, what the fuck are you doing?

Yes, I had stunmbled upstairs, and got into bed with my mum. Apparently she had tried to kick me into my own bed, but to no avail, so had gone back to sleep, with me sleeping in her bed. Then I woke up and tried it on.

So the most horrific thing I've seen, is me, trying to fuck my mum.

Just recounting this brings back those suicidal feelings.

I'm off to book some more therapy.

Don't make the length jokes. Please don't.

*cries*
( The Awful Puppy Bakery is still bored, Sun 24 Jun 2007, 13:24, Reply)

Subliminal Messages
One time I was pleasantly searching for funny videos on Killsometime.com and came across a 'Funny Video' entitled 'Subliminal Messages'

Seemed harmless enough. It wasn't.

The cunt who made it thought it would be funny to put images of dead or harlequin babies at the end, accompanied by a scream, straight after a song 'played backwards' revealed a bunch of creepy voices chanting the lords prayer. It scarred me for life. I NEVER forgot it, I can still see the images in my head now. I have no wish to ever see it again.

Incidentally, heres a link to the flash.
www.albinoblacksheep.com/flash/subliminal.php

This shows why I am not religious - The Lord's Prayer gives me nightmares.

Appreciate this - I was scared to even google it.

Warning: Take notice of the messages I've been getting on QOTW entries and DO NOT CLICK THIS LINK.

Length? A couple of minutes.

Edit: This Wikipedia entry quite covers it, for anyone too scared to watch the flash: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Subliminal_message#Allegations
( ClanSoul, Sun 24 Jun 2007, 13:17, Reply)

Station Horror
On the way home from work about a year ago i was sat their minding my own buisness when a bloke jumps out from behind a bush on the tracks and sticks his neck down on the rails just in time for the 17:20 no stop virgin express from Glasgow to taunton, unsprislingly this chops the blokes head off witch then proceeds to bounce down the rails comming to rest 50 yards from his body.

what really sucked was then having to go and relive all this 3 months later at the inquest only to find out that the bloke was a poster child for care in the comminuity and had topped himself because the council had fu**ed up and sent him a letter stopping his benifits when they hadn't ment to.

sorry for length :-(
( }{ amis }{, Sun 24 Jun 2007, 10:19, Reply)

Humpty Dumpty was Pushed
For me, if its something I would happily recount to my mates then it gets a tick.
( enoughblueskyforsailorstrousers, Sun 24 Jun 2007, 10:16, Reply)

Public Question
I'm having trouble here.

I usually vote for the stories that make me giggle, or ones that truly disgust me.

Here there's some that do both... and some heart-rending nightmares of situations.

How the hell o I vote? If I had my way, horrendous and life-changing accidents and deaths would be at the top of the "best of" list: They truly are horrific. ... and strangely that seems deeply wrong.

B3TA I salute you once more for running us through the mental blender.
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Sun 24 Jun 2007, 10:08, Reply)

my
original suggestion was "random acts of wrongness" which, if we're being anal (and i'm a lawyer so i get paid for that), wasn't quite how this qotw has turned out. which is not a complaint, but the sort of horribleness i had in mind will now seem very tame next to everyone else...

anyway, went out for dinner with some friends last night and my mate mark turned up looking a bit shellshocked. turned out he had stayed at his parents' house the night before and, on getting up in the morning, had opened the curtains as you do.

to be greeted by the sight of his 70 year old father mowing the lawn, cheerfully and blissfully unaware that he had totally debagged himself somewhere en route and was mowing the lawn like free willy with his trousers round his ankles.

70 year old dad cock and arse. it's never good.
( rachelswipe with a fork, Sun 24 Jun 2007, 10:04, Reply)

At the risk of being off-topic
I would like to support Humpty Dumpty Was Pushed in his defence of the uncircumcised male. I'm not cut myself and never will I be. Quick reaction to two points:

Cleanliness; er, the foreskin rolls back, which means anyone with even the vaguest notion of hygiene cleans under there with their morning shower.

Sensation; cut off the foreskin and the glans will thicken, just the same as a callous on your finger. The idea of having my naked glans rubbing against my pants makes my eyes water. Don't feel it? That's because you have a calloused cock and can't feel half of what I can. I enjoy sex more than you.

Tenuous on-topic post. I saw a run over kitten in Greece. It made me sad :(
( Kroney, Sun 24 Jun 2007, 9:47, Reply)

Long lazy summer days
Back when I was a young 'un growing up in Thurcroft (a pit village in the middle of South Yorkshire) when the summer holiday kicked in, it wasn't uncommon to find myself and my pals spending most of the days riding our bicycles around the surrounding countryside. One of the favourite places to ride was up the BIG hill to Laughton, and then enjoy the free wheeling on the way back down. Now halfway up the hill there was a lay-by at the side of the road that had recently been cleared and a berm had been put up across the entrance to stop Gypsys camping there, and also as a deterrent to fly tippers. Me and my then pal Simon were intrigued to notice that one day, somebody had dumped about 50 heavy duty paper sacks in this lay-by. So we pulled our bikes up and with the curiosity of youth, went to examine the contents of these sacks, no doubt thinking they would be full of sweets and cans of pop that some careless shop owner had accidentally dumped there.

Nope.

Cows heads.

Flayed cows heads.

50 or so bags of them.

Not the sort of things a 10 year old wants to find on his bike ride.



Looking back on it, and reading the rest of this QOTW, I think I've gotten off very, very lucky up to now.
(TC, Sun 24 Jun 2007, 9:39, Reply)

Most horrific?
Hitler's gas bill.

Talk about taking a deep breath!
( enoughblueskyforsailorstrousers, Sun 24 Jun 2007, 9:27, Reply)

Seagull Platter
Once saw a guy coming out of a pub at midnight, staggeringly drunk. He vomited copious amounts of orangey goodness 3 times onto the road, whilst continuing to walk. Then a flock of seagulls came down for a feast. Then a taxi came down the road and ran over one of the seagulls...into the vomit. Worst thing was, the other seagulls returned to continue their meal, around their recently deceased buddy.

And the wind kept blowing its wing up and down, making it look like it was still alive. But it was dead. I checked.
(mcgandhi doesn't like flange, Sun 24 Jun 2007, 4:28, Reply)

I once saw a kitten

that wasn't particularly cute. I've lead a fairly sheltered life.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sun 24 Jun 2007, 4:01, Reply)

modern art
About a decade ago i worked for a brief stint as a sort of security guard at various art galleries around london. One day i pulled a shift at the tate gallery.
Normally you worked at one post for an hour then rotated to the next position and so on . There was one particular installation in a room on its own , and audio visual thing. techincally we were meant to be in the room at all times but we just waited by the door and followed any patrons in .

this art haunts me to this day . It started with grainy black and white images of fields , trees , reeds ect flashing up on walls then the sound of ducks echoing around the room with their sillhouettes flying around. The flashing got faster and faster then you heard gunshots and the images went wonky . At this point the walls started to turn red from the top downwards. Sillhouettes vanish all goes quiet and just red walls remaining for a moment then blackness.
This would cycle over and over again about every 90 seconds. Nobody could stand to be in this room it really affected your mind . It was so bad that we had to be rotated from that post every 20 minuites .

Wait till i get to some of my stories about working for the electricity board
(welgar, Sun 24 Jun 2007, 3:38, Reply)

Nurses
Get to see a lot of stuff, as has already been mentioned.

Here is my top 5 horrifics.

1. As a student, nurses do a stint in theatres. I saw a guy who had a tumor in his anus (past the dentine line for those in the know) have said anus and most of his lower bowel sliced out by the surgeon. You could literally see light coming out of where his arsehole used to be.

2. Working a surgical ward. Mr L has come in for removal of necrotic toes (dead due to diabetes). I throw back his sheets, the toe count only adds up to 9. 10 mins after Mr R across from Mr L complains that he has found a date in his cornflakes...and because the first half didnt taste too good, he left it in the bowl. I had to vom at that.

3. Degloving injuries are pretty rank. I worked in A and E one night that a young lady decided to throw herself in front of a train. The resulting injury looks like you have taken off a pair of trousers down to your knees...but replace trousers with skin.

4. Working a stint on community nursing. We get a call from a fella living in a block of flats in N London that his next door neighbour has some wounds on his legs. Turned up and I could smell him in the lobby. The old chaps entire lower legs had broken down completely, covered in thick slough and pus. He had been dressing them himself with boiled rags for 2 months.

5. Finally (but not unfortunately the least), a young chap out on his night before the wedding stag doo. For shits and giggles had popped his todger into the top of a lager bottle, it then became stuck. Friends cheered him on as it was decided the only way to remove said bottle was to smash it against a wall. The surgeons took quite a long time trying to re-attach his bell end but failed. Least to say the wedding was called off.
(Flambe_McSpastard will charge $30 for gay bum rape today, Sun 24 Jun 2007, 2:34, Reply)

....
Xyphious... why must you tempt me with babies?

I expected something pink, little and wriggly, thought your fear was down to being male and having commitment issues.

am now traumatised.

Not even kittens can save me now
(lardarse, Sun 24 Jun 2007, 2:04, Reply)

Smell is 90% of taste
Back when I was in uni our flat toilet was notorious for getting blocked. One day the block was particularly severe and unfortunately the turds had chased the paper and with no plunger we had to get creative. We hit upon the inspired idea of pouring a kettle's worth of boiling water down it to, you know, "loosen things up". Seemed sensible enough at the time. Imagine for a moment if you will when you smell the wonderful wafting odours of a home cooked meal making their way through your home. I think you can see where we're going with this. The smell literally jumped down my throat. As I approached the epicentre my nostrils burned and eyes stang. The urge to vomit was overpowering - we had created a monster. My flatmate's girlfriend arrived at the door and refused to enter, our faecal stew's stench was too overpowering. I felt like I was eating a turd burger. We threw a bucket of water down hoping to dislodge the blockage. Not smart. Now we had a toilet bowl brim full of luke warm water and dissolved turd. There was only one thing left for it. I donned a rubber glove and, choking back the vom, inserted my hand into the dark heart of the beast used my fist as a makeshift plunger. Then I fainted. No, not really. It took me three separate attempts to dislodge the blockage (between desperate retreats for air). Finally I heard a gurgle and a rush and the demon was slain. It took a long time for that smell to go away.

And that was how we boiled a turd.
(dunk010, Sun 24 Jun 2007, 2:01, Reply)

Not seen personally
But someone I know works on the railways. Part of his job is cleaning the front of the trains after a suicide. Apparently it involves a pressure washer.
(Le Misanthrope last procrastinated on, Sun 24 Jun 2007, 1:24, Reply)

4chan
k? :P
(Guilt wants to get in your moist confines, Sun 24 Jun 2007, 1:17, Reply)

Brown sauce
Well once, I'd been going down on this girl. She kept raising her arse up and I figured she wanted a bit of 'backdoor action', so I sent Mr Tongue down there for a little probe to see what he could find.
There was a strange taste and a sinking feeling in my stomach.
I pulled open her cheeks and peered into the darkness of her ring. There was there merest hint of HP sauce about her inner ring and, as I watched, a little bit more came out of her bumhole.
She had the runs.

For the record, this was my mad psycho-bitchex-girlfriend who could go from being a tart to a cold hearted, frigid bitch in seconds.

I wish I'd shat in her mouth when I had the chance.
(EvilMeister, Sun 24 Jun 2007, 1:09, Reply)

Probably
'Japanese Vomit Orgy'
(cs1ca, Sun 24 Jun 2007, 1:00, Reply)

Get the lad a hanky
I used to have a friend who was a complete pisshead. He would invest his Giro in alcohol and drink himself unconscious. Late one night on the way home from him drinking beer in a park and me watching him, we wandered to the town whereby Johnny, deciding he has the munchies, looks for something to eat.

Some kind post-pub nosher had bought a burger, eaten half of it and thrown the rest on the ground, meat side flat against the pavement. Johnny picked up this cold half-chewed nugget of filth and ate it. Nice.

We then went back to his mum's where he practically passed out on the sofa; vertical but barely moving until a kind of gurgly burp erupted from him and, in his unconscious state he vomited - not out of his mouth but his nose. This beery, burgery puke dribble out of his snout, down his shirt and he just sat there, unaware of what a repulsive and pathetic sight he was. And all at the taxpayer's expense.
(Filthio, Sun 24 Jun 2007, 0:59, Reply)

Police Museum
I was on a family holiday once, ageds about 11. I forget where, exactly, possible Gloucestershire, I don't know. Certainly somewhere english.

Anyway, my mum's dad was a poiceman, and as such she wanted to go a a nearby 'police museum', expecting it to be filled with lots of old police memorabilia from when bobbies existed and wore hats you could respect. I went with her, because it sounded relatively intereting, whilst my dad and brother buggered off to do something else.

We went there and spoke to the curator in the foyer. My mum, now thinking that there's the offchance of some stuff that an eleven year old might be better off without seeing, the police dealing with the seedier side of life and all, asked the curator if I would be all right to go around it. He replied in the affirmative. Truncheons and badges it was then.

Inside was frankly bizarre. It started off ok, but as we progressed, there was an unusual amount of pornography, most of it harmless enough, but I was after all eleven. It started to get a little more suspect, and then became mixed with a horrifying juxtaposition of corpses and skeletons with flesh still clinging grimly to the bones. Mum suggests we move quickly on, past an exhibit about the elephant man only to turn a corner and be confronted by a skeleton hanging on the wall.

I was now deeply, deeply unhappy, and mum was quivering with rage. Whatever this was, it ceratinly was not suitable for children. We rushed through the rest of the museum, I beng frogmarched by angry mum, through a room about the worst excesses of the holocaust in which was showing a video that haunts me to this day. I was very, very happy to get out of there.

I don't know quite what nudie pictures, horribly deformed foetuses in jars, pictures of dead bodies and examples of the darkest evil of the human psyche had to do with the police, it seemed more like one man's sick collection and I don't recall anyone else being in the horror show at the time. I'm very, very glad my mum was there. Not funny at all, just really, really disturbing.
(WarneMarsh My priority for frivolity begets quality jollity, Sun 24 Jun 2007, 0:53, Reply)

If only Xyphious had warned me...
...not to Google harlequin babies.

Truly terrible. Poor little fuckers.
(Filthio, Sun 24 Jun 2007, 0:49, Reply)

Not fluffy
I was walking home from school with mates... An old woman walked past with a dog and a puppy on a lead... The puppy broke its collar and ran... Straight under the front wheel of a passing car. There was no blood, just a crunch and howling.


That was more horrific than seeing next doors two year old girl go under the front wheels of an MG... She lived. The screams from my art teacher who hit her were quite nasty though.
( beefandcheese, Sun 24 Jun 2007, 0:45, Reply)

Very Bad Things
A few people have mentioned the Ken Bigley video. If you haven't seen it then I'd think twice before googleing for it. Me and my flatmate used to watch all sorts of rotten shit on the net thinking we were big and all, able to handle anything. The image of a man in overalls getting jumped by his captors (he had no clue that this was it) being decapitated by a blunt bread knife is not easily forgettable. The most distressing part of the grizzly scene is watching him scream through the gaping hole in his neck, and seeing the blood leap forth from said fissure with each panicked dying howl.

I don't go to rotten any more.
(dunk010, Sun 24 Jun 2007, 0:45, Reply)

Walking home from work a few years ago,
I watched in wonder/amusement at the sight of some random bloke walk out into the road from in between two buses, only to get hit by a motorbike , and flung rather viciously back towards the pavement.
The sight of the motorbike rider with his rather obviously broken arm was nasty enough, but the poor random bloke fared slightly worse.... he'd hit his forehead against the kerb, smashing his skull open leaving a trail of brain matter on the floor.

needless to say, there were a few screams (not from me, cos i'm a gorefiend :~) )
( MrSanity has maybe kicked the WoW habit forever, Sun 24 Jun 2007, 0:44, Reply)

Mine's a pint
One evening I was at South Parade Pier in Southsea, watching some Battle of the Bands competition. The place was heaving with punks, students and beerhounds, anxious to be at the event with its extended bar hours.

I glanced across at the people at the next table in time to see this young chap pick up an empty pint glass, vomit in in, put it back on the table and - before my eyes - his mate picked up the glass and drank the contents.
(Filthio, Sun 24 Jun 2007, 0:32, Reply)

Two for the price of one...
Went to Hinning House in the lakes when I was about 11... I was orienteering and routing round in the grass.... Happened to stumble upon the corpse of a rotting sheep, I whimpered.

18 months later we make a return visit and I'm doing the same orienteering course... Forgot about the earlier incident but quickly remembered when I found the skeletal remains of said same sheep.


Not so horrific now... But for an 11/12 year old it freaked me out
( beefandcheese, Sun 24 Jun 2007, 0:26, Reply)

I work in an Environmental Biology Lab...
We have a large water boiler for sterilising waste water products.(Insects in water samples,liquid muck etc.)
What's left over is a rancid gunky slime that would make you gag.

When the day came to clean it, we had a glass full of a thick brownish substance that looked and smelled worse than a hobo's diarrhoea.

One of the guys in the lab then proceded to drink the whole lot of it for the €156 that we put together.

He spent the next 2 weeks on a drip after having to get his stomach pumped.
(Lil' Alan, Sat 23 Jun 2007, 23:38, Reply)

facial cancer
after working as a nurse for a while, it's inevitable that you see unpleasant stuff, it's one of the frontlines of the rich tapestry that is human life.
I work in psych these days, so I don't tend to see the surgical stuff, although every once in a while you see someone who has self-harmed to the extreme; the nastiest ones I've seen were fire-related.
However, the most horrific thing for me was encountered whilst training on a general ward - mostly respiratory related, but with a few beds for people waiting for a hospice.
This gent in particular had a very advanced, aggressive facial cancer. Now when I say aggressive, it wasn't waving around a stanley knife and threatening GBH, but it had eaten substantial chunks of this poor chaps face; cheek, jawline, eye socket...
A lot of the nurses refused to go in there, and you could smell the room halfway down the (large) ward. Necrotic, cancerous tissue does not smell good. A delicate blend of rotten eggs, faeces, stinky cheese and stale BO would not even get close to it.
Had to help change the dressings a few times, was cool with that, I figured despite my nauseous feelings, the chap deserved respect big time and should be well looked after.
They kept him whacked off his tits on morphine, I like to think he was so out of it he forgot where he was.
(bollox, not again, Sat 23 Jun 2007, 22:20, Reply)