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This is a question Ignored Advice

What wholesome advice have you ignored, to your own downfall?

(, Thu 15 Nov 2012, 17:01)
Pages: Popular, 4, 3, 2, 1

This question is now closed.

don't wizz on
the electric fence
(, Mon 19 Nov 2012, 13:49, 10 replies)
It's your own bloody fault
Sometimes, on occasion, it's not necessarily the advice of your elders or your peers that you fail to heed. It's amazing to think that despite nobody knowing you better than you know yourself, it can be absolutely impossible to listen to the voice screaming at you from within your own mind.

"Don't go around there tonight. You'll only end up regretting it!"

And so it was that after 3 days of merriment and copious amounts of booze imbibed that I sat and considered my Sunday evening options. The Grand Prix was finished, X Factor's as gash as it ever was and QOTW was turning over at such a slow rate that I feared it might've gone into reverse. What other options does a man have other than an early night?
Until you're faced with that familiar call? "Are you coming out for a pint?" Just a quiet end to the weekend. Something to help quicken the journey to the land of nod before another manic Monday.

Then before you know it, a cheeky pint to close out the weekend turns into five or six pints that would normally serve as a non-hangover inducing sup. At that point having already ignored my own advice to have a quiet night I decided that there's nothing quite like a whiskey night-cap to close out the frivolities. Fast forward half a bottle of whiskey later, a couple of the finest hippy ciggies and it's time to call a taxi home which arrives at the very reasonable hour of 4:15am. Home by half past and then two and a half hours kip before the spectre of work looms large and the snooze button becomes both your best friend and a mortal enemy.

I've just started to come to my senses now having been at work for over 5 hours already. The sum total of my efforts have been 1x Sausage&Hash Brown sarnie, 3x cup of tea, 1x unreasonably long trip to the traps for a wee snooze and 1x entry to B3ta so it at least sounds like I'm typing something that could pass as real work.

It's certainly not the first time that this has happened but as I've advised myself many a time before, it'll definitely be the last...honestly Guv, it will!

tl;dr man has hangover at work, visits B3ta instead of working...who'd have thought it?!
(, Mon 19 Nov 2012, 13:39, 3 replies)
On the eve of my first date, at the tender age of 14, my father gave me a single line of advice
"Always pull her chair out for her," he said with a lascivious wink.

My mind swimming with the heady dreams of sticking my tongue down her throat, I set off to her house to pick up my poor teenage victim. We went to the bus stop, we took a bus ride together, we alighted in town, both stiff with nervous excite and anticipation.

We went to a cinema. Then a McDonalds. Then the bus home. Every single seat we sat on was bonded to the floor. I didn't get my tongue down her throat, or my hand up her top. Thanks for nothing, Dad.
(, Mon 19 Nov 2012, 12:17, 3 replies)
I wouldn't take another one
you'll never get to sleep.
(, Mon 19 Nov 2012, 11:19, 4 replies)
"Nah, mate, she's definitely interested"

(, Mon 19 Nov 2012, 9:33, 1 reply)
My Dad told me
"The hardest way to earn money is to marry it."
Now I was pretty sure he wasn't speaking from first hand experience, so I was determined to test the theory.
Unfortunately all the girls I knew with rich daddies were not really all that interested in an unsexy and unprosperous young man.
Does anybody know anyone that married money and lived to regret it? Or is it just a myth.
(, Sun 18 Nov 2012, 22:18, 8 replies)
My cousin Barry used to keep gerbils and give them the names of 1980s cartonn characters.

I distinctly remember the bad habit of one who would repeatedly nibble at newspaper pages containing the personal sale items section that he named Inspector Gadget.

The habit itself was an I.G. gnawed ad vice.
(, Sun 18 Nov 2012, 21:03, 4 replies)
"Don't touch that"
But I did. I touched it.
(, Sun 18 Nov 2012, 16:41, 5 replies)
Always use plenty of quicklime.

(, Sun 18 Nov 2012, 13:46, 3 replies)
"Whatever you do - don't let them get wet & don't feed them after midnight."

(, Sun 18 Nov 2012, 4:04, 53 replies)
"don't go near that pile of tarmac in the carpark!"
me and my sister both ignored this one. the result was both of us, stripped down to our knickers(the ones with the day of the week on them, no less)in the communal courtyard, being hosed down and scrubbed with butter by a very angry mother.
getting tarmac off your skin really hurts.
(, Sat 17 Nov 2012, 16:44, 8 replies)
"If you climb the mountain, be up and back by noon"
A pearoast, but it all started with neglected advice.

At age 17, a friend and I took a month-long auto trip around the American and Canadian West. One of our stops was at Mt. Hood, Oregon. My friend was partly prepared for the icy summit, but I wasn't. He had an ice axe, but the best I could scrounge from hunting around the ski slopes was a bamboo pole. Neither of us had crampons.

Someone advised "if you climb the mountain, be up and back by noon," but we didn't understand the advice. That meant starting the climb shortly after midnight. We wanted our sleep, however, and started instead after sunrise.

One reason for the advice is, as happens on summer's days, the surface snow begins melting, but is still rock-hard right under the surface. The combination is extremely slippery.

Descending from the top around 5 p.m., my friend was able to control his slippery descent using his ice axe, but my bamboo pole was nearly useless for that purpose. I slipped, and slid. I was hurtling downward straight towards a crevasse (technically a bergschrund), which sported a 30-to-50 meter tall cliff, depending where you sailed off. Painful death appeared certain.

I aimed my descent and plummeted straight into my friend, who was able to arrest both our descents with his ice axe. I started cursing him with the foulest language imaginable, even though he had just saved my life.

A panicky young death is not a pretty death! After more scary sliding experiments that brought us closer to the brink, I discovered I could roll over, hug the snow, and stop on my own. And I could take tiny baby steps downhill. After an eternity, we got out of there. I would have kissed him, except by now our tongues and lips were all sunburnt, and neither of us needed more pain.

Here is the final report on a particularly horrible 2002 accident, featuring the spectacular crash of the rescue helicopter, at exactly the same location.
(, Fri 16 Nov 2012, 19:51, 3 replies)
James Hutchings learned the hard way. Didn't listen when people suggested he shouldn't spam his 'book' on B3ta.
Where is he now eh?
(, Fri 16 Nov 2012, 18:27, 21 replies)
Don't eat the yellow snow.
(, Fri 16 Nov 2012, 18:26, 3 replies)
Don't post on /talk.
If you do, Jahled's coming round to fuck you up.

(, Fri 16 Nov 2012, 17:41, 50 replies)
Never tell sex lies on a B3ta.
Virgins often take offence.
(, Fri 16 Nov 2012, 17:39, 6 replies)
I shouldn't have been Darth Vader!!!!

(, Fri 16 Nov 2012, 17:19, 1 reply)
Don't mention
Travels, when you meant holidays.
(, Fri 16 Nov 2012, 17:08, Reply)
"You're too old and fat to go rollerblading with your kids"
On the plus side, the doctors and nurses in A&E were all brilliant.

Even the one who had to confront my arse, when x-raying my fractured pelvis.
(, Fri 16 Nov 2012, 16:34, Reply)
"don't play near those concrete pipes!"
not listening to that one meant my foot got rolled over by a 3-ton concrete sewage pipe. it swelled up so much and so fast that the middle of my foot burst open, spewing out my footy innards.
3 days upside down in hospital with 3 broken toes and a crushed foot were followed by 8 weeks on crutches. now, i can stick a nail into the middle of my foot without feeling a thing.
(, Fri 16 Nov 2012, 16:03, 9 replies)
Presented with the choice of either wearing the installed seatbelt, or being able to reach the pedals, a 6 year old charlius ignored the reasoning of my parent co-driver and opted for control over the electric vehicle.

All was fine during the 5 minutes or so of zooming and intentional crashing. Twas as the bell tolled to signal the end of our amusement - and I chose to relax my slight frame - that my sort-of step brother decided to coast into the back of my car and caused me to hastily introduce my face to the steering wheel, thus shattering the bone content of my nose.

I probably put a few other parents off letting their kids have a go on the dodgems after seeing the St. John's ambulance crew escort me and my claret strewn face across the concourse. I've had a fat nostril ever since.

Wear your seatbelt, kids.
(, Fri 16 Nov 2012, 15:18, Reply)
Don't libel Lord McAlpine
my dad said.

Or for that matter anyone who has enough cash to pay off their victims to ensure they change their story.
(, Fri 16 Nov 2012, 14:00, 15 replies)
"Stay away from that corner in the field..."
said one of my parents
"...theres a big wasps nest in one of the holes".

Within my imbecilic 9 year old head, this translated into 'go and twat the wasp nest with the swingball'. I guess I was curious as to what the wasps would do, I soon found out

One mini swarming and a lot of pain later, i developed a phobia of loud buzzing that I still have today
(, Fri 16 Nov 2012, 13:42, 2 replies)
Never ignore your wife... (RP)
One of our kids' toys was playing up. When the little button was pressed, instead of playing "Old MacDonald had a farm", it would go "Pzt".

"Is it the batteries?" suggests the Amish Wife.

"No," I say, confidently, and proceed to dismantle the toy and check the wiring. This involves about 28 tiny screws and lots of fiddly bits going "sproing".

"Are you sure it's not the batteries?" suggests the Amish Wife again.

"Nooo," I say. "Look, it worked just now. Must have been a loose connection." I proceed to re-introduce all fiddly bits to their little recessed homes, and replace all 28 screws.

Triumphantly, I let out a sigh and press the button. "Pzt," it says.

"Why not try changing the batteries?" suggests the Amish Wife, timidly. I am rarely happy while doing DIY, what with tiny screws and bits that go "sproing".

"Bloody hell, woman, it's not the batteries. I've got a degree in electronics and ..." blah blah blah. The Amish Wife disappears again to go and weave some yoghurt or something.

After another fruitless disassembly and assembly, including checking that the switches work using a multimeter, I sheepishly try some new batteries... e i e i o.

So, I learned a valuable lesson: If you're not doing what your wife tells you, you're doing it wrong.
(, Fri 16 Nov 2012, 13:14, 9 replies)
"Don't let them bamboozle you, son,"
Fields once said, "but never drink anything stronger than gin before breakfast, either."

Do kamikazes count?
(, Fri 16 Nov 2012, 12:57, Reply)
"Don't jump that fence!"
Thus spake my girlfriend when I was eighteen.

It was my summer before going to university, and I worked at am amusement park. It was overall mind-numbingly dull, though working there did offer me a lot of people-watching opportunities. It's an interesting cross-section of humanity that frequents such places, from teenagers feeling the heady freedom of being away from the dreaded parents to young families with small children to middle-aged people reliving their days of rollercoasters and bad food. That part of the job I actually enjoyed, little bits of voyeurism into the lives of other people. I was all but invisible to them, just another part of the equipment, so I could watch them in their unguarded moments.

But that's beside the point.

One night I was out drinking with my co-workers from the park and our respective girlfriends. Someone suggested climbing the fence at about one in the morning, which sounded like a fun thing to do to our booze-addled teenage minds. So nothing would do but to clamber over the six foot chain link fence and go down the humongous slide up near the front.

The slide was probably about sixty or seventy feet high (about 20 meters for you metric types) and made of fiberglass with six troughs to slide in. There was a small slope at the top to get you going, then a very large drop followed by a rise, typically just enough to slow the rider to a reasonable speed by the end. You rode down in a burlap sack with a plastic coating to which had been sewn a chunk of carpeting for the bottom. The slide was waxed daily to give it a good speed so that people didn't get stuck partly down.

We grabbed our carpets and started up the stairs. One of the guys reached over and felt the slide. "Hey, it's all wet! The dew is on it!"

"No problem," slurred another. "Flip the bag over so the smooth side is down and hydroplane."

Brilliant! we thought as we climbed onto the top platform. We all put our bags in troughs and sat there for a moment, each working up the courage to be the first. Finally one guy let out a whoop and pushed off. He zoomed down the initial slope and got airborne over the main drop.

"Holy shit!" I eagerly pushed off and similarly zipped down after him. And got airborne.

The bottom of the drop slammed into me, pressing me flat. I flew up the incline, got airborne again, and crashed into the wooden fence at the bottom. Next to me lay a crumpled heap that was the first guy. "Ffffffuuuuuuu-"

A rumble announced the approach of the other guys. "Oh shit!" We both rolled to the sides just as more bodies hit the fence and collapsed into groaning heaps.

Utterly sober, we put the bags back and returned to the fence, which we had to climb in our battered condition.

Shouldn't have jumped that fence...
(, Fri 16 Nov 2012, 12:44, Reply)
Don't waste three years in higher education.

(, Fri 16 Nov 2012, 11:19, 5 replies)
Don't accept sweets from strangers.
I have three fillings. Bastards.
(, Fri 16 Nov 2012, 9:33, 3 replies)
Working as a Carnie
We were placing the steps for the waltzer in place, they are sheet metal steps with Iron Bar edges and support and took 2 guys quite a bit of effort to lift and move

this guy is sitting on ones like it


Boss: SBBH watch your fingers,
Me: Aye I know.
Boss: No seriously watch where your fingers are.
Me: I know, I got this.
Boss: No seriously these are heavy.
Me: Aye ffs come on
Boss: 1, 2, 3 drop
Boss: Told you
(, Fri 16 Nov 2012, 8:00, Reply)
"See that big red button?"
"What ever you do don't press that,"

Pause for a discernible time period.


EDIT: User friendly ver.
(, Fri 16 Nov 2012, 7:43, 2 replies)

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