Hmm
I don't think i've ever really misunderstood instructions on anything.

Though i once thought 'Wet paint' meant you had to tip water on it. I was 4 at the time.
(The lord Boo., Tue 9 May 2006, 14:03, Reply)

when i was little
my mum had left a tray of pork scramptions out to defrost (if you're not from the north of england then just assume pork chops or similar).
being too young to read "in natural juices" i of course assumed that this evenings meal was stewing in strawberry syrup.
mmmm tasty.

nope, drank about a litre of pig blood before mum found me.
i'm veggie now...
( KittyWaste lives at Sleepingplanet.com, Tue 9 May 2006, 13:51, Reply)

Flames of Glory!
When i was around 15 a friend of mine and i found a mostly empty can of deoderant on the floor. We promptly picked it up and peirced it onto an iron railing.....then in a fit of genuis lit the gasses that were coming out of it! Thus ignoring 2 of the warnings on the back....and getting burnt fingers as a reward!
(wozza_c, Tue 9 May 2006, 13:34, Reply)

Haynes Schmaynes
Haynes manuals are pretty good at understating the complexity of some critical procedures - when they use teh word "simply" in an instruction, it's probably best to retrace your steps, put it all back together, and pay someone to do it for you.
Dismantling my bike engine (yzf750 - woo) on a workmate in the living room, we came to the bit where we needed to remove the clutch basket. This (for those who don't know) spins freely around it's fastening, so is a pig to remove. "Simply fashion a tool..." began the instructions in the manual - sod that, stuff it with sockets til it jams. Worked a treat, as did using a stepladder as an extension bar. Couldn't get the bugger back together again though. Sort of funnier if you were there.

No apologies for anything, cos its my first post and I had to wait a week! Fair bursting at the seams!!
(kaptinkurtz, Tue 9 May 2006, 13:15, Reply)

Do not feed the birds
Nine years old, opening night of my first (and last) amateur dramatics production. Despite suffering from a rather nasty stomach bug all day, I was determined the show would go on! Waiting in the wings to go on for the number that involved my solo (whose idea that was is still beyond me), things took a turn for the worse. The director tapped me on the shoulder and advised me to go and have a sit down, preferably in the direction of the toilets, as I was looking decidedly peaky.

Unfortunately I took this to mean 'run onto the stage, collapse to your knees right at the front holding your stomach and projectile vomit disturbingly orange crap into the orchestra'.

I thought it a nice touch that the rest of the cast still launched into a rousing rendition of 'Feed the Birds'.
(Samara Morgan is a small blue thing, like a marble or an eye, Tue 9 May 2006, 12:40, Reply)

At the mountains of madness
I like going up big hills. I've been doing it for a long time and know my way around. This is important because if something goes wrong thousands of feet up a big remote steep thing then you are in a world of hurt.

None of which explains how on Friday me and a mate managed to take a dangerous and difficult route up the WRONG PEAK. We spent ages crawling up a very steep, treacherous scree slope searching for "the intermittent path" when "the intermittent path" was in fact half a mile away.

The shameful part is he had a GPS. And I had a map. The GPS was in his hotel room. The map in my pack. Neither were looked at once.

The instruction I will follow from now on: if you have navigation tools, use 'em.
( calgacus Non sum qualis eram bonae sub regno Cynarae, Tue 9 May 2006, 12:38, Reply)

So, so many.
Firstly, ignoring instructions is not the same as not reading them in the first place. Indeed it is actually a greater indication of your (my) foolishness.

Keep Away From Naked Flame.
Do Not Write Down Your Pin.
Do Not Dispose Of In Fire.
Apply Sparingly.
Wear Sunscreen.
Do Not Pierce.
Danger Of Death. Keep Out.
Do Not Incinerate.
Do Not Point At People Or Animals.
Do Not Stop To Collect Personal Belongings.
Do Not Operate Machinery After Taking This Medicine.
Always Apply Two Coats.
Do Not Remove Safety Cover.
Isolate From Power Supply Before Removing Cover.
Do Not Operate With Cover Removed.
Do Not Trespass On The Railway
Do Not Stare Directly Into Beam.
Eat A Proper Meal Before Donating.
Wet Paint – Do Not Touch.
Respect Wildlife.
Always Wear A Helmet.
Do Not Work Under Raised Vehicle.
Keep Out Of Reach Of Children.
Always Read The Instructions.
Point Away From Face.
Always Close The Gate.
This Is Not A Step.
Always Support With Secure Axle Stands.
Use In A Well Ventilated Area.

Drink Responsibly.
(Rich T has a clever and witty sig, Tue 9 May 2006, 11:55, Reply)

Not sure if it's actually in the instructions......
A couple of years ago I worked on the cosmetic floor of a department store. Someone dropped a tester of a new fragrance with a transparant bottle and rather than get a new one (too much effort) thought I'd fix it. It went back together quite easily and checked it worked fine. However, in my macho smugness I thought I'd take a closer look at how it works and held it about 6 inches from my eye.

My eyeball's never smelt better.
(-dod-, Tue 9 May 2006, 11:26, Reply)

Category D, 500W
After a couple of fat ones I decided to make myself a jacket potato.

Too lazy to do it the old-fashioned way, I put said potato in the microwave and left it on, ignoring the words my kind mother had said to me; "8 minutes and then five more if needed."

Went upstairs and spaced out for twenty minutes. When I came back downstairs the kitchen was full of grey and noxious smoke and the microwave BLACK with whatever.

The potato? Like a fricking meteorite, so I chucked it into the garden where it shattered on the patio like glass.
(Antlers Sadder Than All The Dead Christmas Trees, Tue 9 May 2006, 11:20, Reply)

Insect Repellant
'Do not smoke while using'

wtf, I'm using this so I can smoke outside!

...yeah, there's a very good reason why it says this. On the bright side, I didn't get bitten...?
(kadee may or may not be a nymphomaniac, Tue 9 May 2006, 10:40, Reply)

Bossy computer
A few years ago I was just at the end of a 6 hour Championship Manager session. It wasn't entirely succesful. I was getting back-chat off Lauren Robert and the cheeky sod was missing training and then being obstropolous when he received a fine for doing so!!

So I wasn't in the best of moods when I saved and closed it down. The next thing I know I press 'start' and 'shut down' when a message appears on screen saying 'It is now safe to turn off your computer.' Well, I was fuming. The very idea that my computer would dispense advice and instruction to me was intensley irritating. I decided to disobeye the command to show that technology will never prevail over humanity, and as I did so I screamed at my computer screen "Terminator 2 will never happen you bastard!!". The screen remained unchanged and so began a 3 day stand off. I sat and stared at the monitor, it glowed back "it is now safe to turn off your computer"

On the fourth day I left for work. Struggling to keep the computer off my mind I began punching colleagues and doing wee-wees in to the photocopier. At mid-day I swore I could see my computer waiting outside my office window in the rain, just staring at me. Waiting for me to do as it says and shut it down. But never!!

I made the most sane decision of my life and left town. I've never stayed in one place longer than a couple of days since. I know that computer is always just around the next corner and that's why I've got to keep moving.
(Andrew Avetoom, Tue 9 May 2006, 8:13, Reply)

I'm extremely lazy
and as such only tend to read the first couple of letters of a word and guess what it is from how big it looks. This generally works except for doors - I read PUSH and PULL as just PU**.

The number of doors I've walked in to is huge, especially when I was working in a hospital
( CowJam, Tue 9 May 2006, 1:15, Reply)

Computer modding the hard way
My first term of college doing a computer technician course I was told to de-essemble a computer completly and then put it back together again. The instructions (or suggestion to me exact) was to draw a diagram to help you work out where everything needs to go back and to wear a braclet thing to stop from shorting out the circuit boards. "Nahh" I thought as I ripped cables and jumpers from the mother board.

Putting it back together didn't seem that hard at all, things seemed to only go in 1 place and so thats where they went. So I turned on the computer to see if it all worked and the little light on the front came on and somthing beeped... but nothing appeared on screen... "shit" I thought as I opened up the box to see what was wrong.. allas I could see no reason for it not to work.

As the end of the lesson got nearer I decided that cheating was the only way to look smart and so i swapped he computer with the guy who was on the next workstation who had gone to the bogs. I didnt have time to test that his worked but I assumed he knew what he was doing since he looked like a traditional computer geek.

So time ends and the teacher comes round to see them all work. He gets to the guy whos computer i'd swapped with and as expected it didnt work. So the teacher opens the computer up and looks inside and says that he has shorted out the video card. Then it comes to me and I nervously turn my computer on... Nothing happens.. nothing at all... so the computer shell gets opened and nothing has been plugged back in at all. Every wire is just stuffed into the box not actually plugged in or anything.

I couldn't believe it not only had he not been a computer geek but he didnt have the common sence to draw a diagram and didnt want to risk putting things in the wrong place. I appoligised to him for trying to cheat but he didnt mind as I had been made to look like a real tard. College just went downhill from there
(That Random Guy, Mon 8 May 2006, 21:42, Reply)

Failed to follow my instruction...
At the loveable age of five, I instructed my mother that if she did not comply with my demands I would break her finger (the demands I made escape me now, but knowing my mother she probably hid my cigars again). She chose to ingnore the caution she was clearly provided.

The result? No broken fingers, but by God did I try. And I would have done it too if it wasn't for my pesky father. He always was an interfering bastard.
(God_of_the_mind, Mon 8 May 2006, 20:53, Reply)

aged 14. do not pierce or burn deoderant can evan after use
so naturally we made a fire and put a can of deoderant on top, not much was happening after a few minutes so we convinced my mate stephen to throw a big rock on the deoderant can. he did and the second the rock hit the can he was engulfed in a huge explosion. then all we see in stephen run out of the explosion the back of his shoes and his trousers on fire after a few seconds of flapping about he was no longer aflame and the whole crowd collapsed into fits of laughter it was quite possibly the funniest thing i have ever seen alltho there was a few seconds of dred between dropping the rock and my friend not being on fire all i was thinking is my mum will murder me for messing with fire.
(fwack bang on it, Mon 8 May 2006, 20:35, Reply)

I can't believe they ain't butterflies.
My grandfather used to keep his own miniature moth cryogenics lab in his study on the bookshelf. It mainly consisted of a miniature fridge, intended for beer cans, turned up full blast and a hand operated tiny pump which was linked up to each of his six "patients". Each morning, before his tea and toast, grandfather would hobble across to the shelf, carefully balance his two walking sticks against the fireplace below, and give the handle of the pump five slow turns with his less than nimble arthritic fingers, thereby cycling anti-freeze through the tiny mothy veins of his half-dozen lepidopteron frozen dead wards. As we were living in my grandfather’s house for most of my childhood, I saw this scene almost every morning of my formative years. It is unsurprising then, that one of the first things I learnt to read was the "Do not touch" sign next to the small array of levers next to his macabre moth mausoleum.
It wasn’t until I began to bring friends home occasionally from school that I even considered that there was something strange about this set up. Friends would at first be bemused at the reasons for grandfather’s odd hobby. Soon and inevitably, however, this curiosity would redirect itself towards the levers and what would happen if they were ever touched. My friends made wild guessing suggestions. Perhaps they would switch the entire machine off. Perhaps they would alter the thermostat such that the moths would catch fire. Perhaps they would bring the moths back to life.
Eventually, in the company of one of my long standing school friends, Kenneth Williams, I bit the bullet and asked my grandfather why it was so important that we did not touch his tiny levers. His reply was curt and evasive; “Just don’t” he mumbled in his old man’s voice. And that was all he would say before turning his attention back to his large print book.
From then on his morning routine changed. He would still waddle over and carefully turn the pump’s handle but now, as he turned to join us in the kitchen, he would see me watching him perform his ritual and, raising a wizened finger to point at the levers he would slowly, purposely and authoritatively state “DO… NOT… TOUCH.”
And so I didn’t. I did not touch. All through primary and secondary school I did not touch. All through primary and secondary school rumours spiralled out of control amongst my friends as to what would happen if ever anyone did touch those levers until eventually they had concocted a quite detailed and ridiculous horror story about zombie moths breeding and attacking and killing and destroying if ever we did touch those malevolent controls.
So good was the story, that one Halloween in my early-teens, while hosting a sleepover the dare was too perfect and too horrifying to be refused; “push the levers.” And it was me that was dared. And so, with my two friends watching from the safety of the stairs, at nearly midnight on Halloween I found myself tiptoeing across my grandfather’s study toward the lepidopteron tomb. With one last glance over my shoulder to catch the excited eyes of my chums, I reached up to the levers, brushed the sign to one side and… thrust all of them forward in one go. The silence was unbearable. All three of us remained transfixed. We did not dare tear our gaze from the moths as we awaited an insecty apocalypse we were sure would unfold before our eyes. Though only ten seconds must have passed, they felt like a whole lifetime. Then it happened.
It started as a quiet tapping. Then a thudding. Then a thunderous drumming. As I turned to seek courage from the eyes of my friends, I saw my grandfather running towards me just before he smashed me in the jaw with a hockey stick. Blow after blow followed. Until he looked down at his bloodied pulp of a grandchild and mumbled “I fucking said do not touch.” And went off to bed chuckling.
( baldmonkey a frothy foul-smelling vaginal discharge, Mon 8 May 2006, 20:19, Reply)

"Do a U-turn"
This was the instruction that puzzled my dear, ditzy friend, Suzy and her mother. It was being voiced at regular intervals by their GPS system. Suzy, and indeed I, live in Southend-on-Sea and Suzy had a job interview in Romford. For those of you unfamiliar with the geography of Essex, it's about an hour's drive away if there's traffic and you stay on an A road the whole way there.

So naturally, Suzy's mother was driving their car on a motorway. Precisely which motorway is a fact I've never been able to find out.

"Do a U-turn"

So Suzy and her mother keep going, bemused by this bizarre and outlandish instruction. After all, they were on a motorway and certainly can't have been expected to do a U turn. The GPS must be faulty.

But no, and I don't really know how to say this in the punchiest way that will get the biggest laugh so I'll tell it to you straight. Suzy's mum pulled over after... a while. Trying to get to Romford, as Suzy has told me, they ended up (and I quote)

"somewhere in Wales."
(dirty gypsy, Mon 8 May 2006, 20:02, Reply)

do not exceed the stated dose.
I always thought it strange that something as innocuous as a packet of halls menthol sweets should have this warning on the side. Anyway, one day whilst a student in London I had to tube it in from Mile End to get to lectures in Euston. This particular day my ears were blocked and I couldn`t hear anything at all, because i had one of those horrible colds that glue up the tubes inside your head. so whilst on the tube I decided to eat an entire packet of halls menthol.

It didn`t clear my eustacian tubes, but it did cause me almost to shit myself on the train. I had to sprint the last 100 yards to the lecture building and burst into the toilets, narrowly avoiding brown trousers as I rushed to pull my trousers down. There was some guy in the cubicle next to me and he was really upset by all the noise I was making, and the fact that my bag came open and all my stuff went under the gap into his cubicle. He left in a hurry.

Halls Menthol contains phenylalanine, a laxative.
(inscrutable no use in these temperatures, Mon 8 May 2006, 19:39, Reply)

cooking at school
ah back in the day when I was at school I was in food technology . A class I enjoyed because all u had to do was fuck about with ingredients all day I remember we was making cakes and I wasn’t paying attention as the teacher told us not to pull the whisks of the electric whisks just press the button .how silly I looked in front of my m8t when I got my hand trapped in the whisks and managed to switched them on he just looked on and laughed as I screamed in pain trying to get my hand free. I considering bouncing it of the unit or my m8ts head to shut him up (and he was standing next to the plug socket and could of switched it off) I clenched my hand forcing the motor to make some crazy noises just b4 I switching it off

Excuse grammar but didn’t listen much at school and how it shows

Would u like fries with that :)
(trippingdude, Mon 8 May 2006, 19:10, Reply)

Toiletries
Before Anita Roddick became a cunt, I used to use Body Shop stuff.
It occurs to me that if a thing smells of something it should taste of it. Blithely disregarding Cunty Roddick's instructions not to consume the Mango and Kiwi thing for washing with that smells more edible than anything, I tasted it. Cue me running about shouting "Euuuurgh it taysh 'orrible" while my ever patient woman rolled her eyes at my idiocy.
This went on for months. Coconut scrub? Smells of coconut, tastes of soap. Strawberry soap? Smells of strawberry, tastes of soap. Kiwi and lemon balm? Smells of Kiwi and lemon, etc etc. NOTHING tastes how it smells, how is that ever right?

Apologies for length- don't eat it.
(Rhye, Mon 8 May 2006, 18:34, Reply)

More Chemistry based hilarity
All of our chemicals were kept in gay little jars with a fiddly plastic lid. They were utterly impossible to get off if you tried to but if you were casually carrying the thing across the classroom it would quite happy fall off. This is what happened to me. Chemistry, first lesson of the day was drawing to a close, so I grab the Ammonia by the lid and carry it down towards the shelves where it was kept. Halfway across the class and the weight in my hand suddenly feels significantly lighter, this is soon followed by the sound of glass smashing and a faint wiff of piss. I look down to see myself standing ankle deep in ammonia and broken glass.

Everyone laughed. I stunk of piss for the rest of the day.
(Peter Sutcliffe's Right Bollock, Mon 8 May 2006, 18:16, Reply)

Do you remember
the old advice you got about 'not talking to strangers'

...well...

i spoke to a stranger once and got ritualistically b*ggered by a paedophile ring, thank goodness the interweb hadn't been found in those days, otherwise my humiliation could have ended up amusing Gary Glitters the world over.

You know what they say - your parents DO know best.
(notsurehowfunnythisis, Mon 8 May 2006, 18:07, Reply)

hot hob
A few years back now, but once when I got home from work, my flatmate said she thought there was something wrong with our cooker.

She pointed at the middle of one of the (gas) rings and said "I think that bit there is too hot".

I very gingerly put my fingertips just above where I thought she was pointing and (as you do) to steady my hand, rested my palm on another part of the hob.

Screaming "Ahh fucking bollocks", etc, I leapt around the kitchen like a nutter 'cos my palm felt like it had been branded with a red hot iron...

...and it had (kindof), as when the pain eventually subsided, I then noticed that the metal bit I'd rested my palm on was clearly embossed with the word "HOT". Then I looked at my palm and it was neatly branded with the word "TOH". The brand took a few weeks to disappear!
(arflat, Mon 8 May 2006, 17:52, Reply)

Dont Play With Fire
Being in the 'D' stream at school, you can imagine that my classmates and I were the jokers, those who got pissed in school etc! Anyway we caught on to the fact that if you spray deodorant through the hole in the lockers in our class room, then made a trail across the front of the locker and combined this with a lighter and paced it behind a desk quick enough, a fireball and a huge bang would result. Instruction 1 - Do not exceed to temperatures in excess of 50c. 2 - Under no circumstances must any student bring lighters knives guns or similar objects into school. the above were both broken by me and my mates, yeah... we got caught, GUILTY suspended... however one kid who had nothing to do with it owned up to taking part, even though he didn’t, he ended up getting suspended too... rule 3 don’t be a fannyflap and admit to things u didn’t do! nice one trev!
(ceej, Mon 8 May 2006, 17:40, Reply)

Damn you Microsoft!
I got bored one day and decided to get my xbox modded. I had a mate who knew all about this type of stuff, so he helped me get it done. The guy who did it for me made a complete bollocks of it so I thought I'd open it up and have a look myself.
I unplugged the power supply so I wouldn't get electrocuted, however, on the side of the PSU there was a warning that read something along the lines of "RISK OF ELECTIC SHOCK EVEN WHEN NOT CONNECTED TO THE MAINS"
I thought that couldn't possibly be true and it was just put there to deter people from dickin' around inside. But sure enough, within a few minutes of poking and prodding I got a massive electric shock right up both of my arms. I stood up and screamed "BOLLOCKS" at the top of my voice, almost causing my mates gran (in the other room) to have a heart attack. I haven't been back to his house since that day and something tells me I won't be going back any time soon.
(Nobsocks, Mon 8 May 2006, 17:39, Reply)

Ignoring instructions
How to ignore instructions :

1) dont read the rest of these instructions
2) click 'i like this'
(5lab, Mon 8 May 2006, 17:22, Reply)

Worst chef in the world
(no, it's not late from last week)

When I was about 12, my family lived in a college for a year while my parents studied. There was a chef who did breakfast (put boxes of cereal out) and tea (deep fried stuff), lunches you had to fend for yourself.

Part-way through the year, the college got a microwave. This was late 80's so they weren't as common as they are now. The chef had never used one, but as you would expect, he threw the instructions in the bin.

Now, he'd heard that one of the things most frequently cooked in a microwave was baked potatos. He also knew that a microwave speeded up the cooking process considerably. He thought he'd give it a try.

So, wrapping up all the baked potatos in foil (coz that's how you'd do them in the oven, right?), he packed them into the microwave like a bricklayer filling a hole in a wall.

Then, as everyone knows, baked potatos take a good 3 hours in the oven. Masterchef here decides to give them an hour and see how they look. Then goes out.

Returns an hour later to a lump of melted plastic and charred embers.

F x

PS I was gutted, having just discovered the joys of microwave popcorn :(
(Flurble - The Innocent One, Mon 8 May 2006, 17:10, Reply)

there once was a time...
there once was a time when i was 10, and we all used to play footy around my mates garages, now we had already used the FRAGILE ROOF! signs for frisbies, so cue my mate taking a huge beckham kick, ball on the garage. so gladly, i attempt to retrieve it, and enter me falling flat arse on the roof of a corsa, with my mates pissing themselves laughing and the sound of sirens in the background, they did eventually help me up though.


we never did get the ball back....
(the cactus kid- what a prick..., Mon 8 May 2006, 17:02, Reply)

Pro Plus
While at a house party I once down ridiculous amounts of alcohol, sniffed tonnes of poppers and had a full blister pack of Pro Plus tablets. I remember very little apart from whacking the back of my girlfriends head with my hard on screeching "What d'ya mean you're tired!?! Fuck me!!!". The next thing I knew it was 10 in the morning and I had been staring at the bedroom ceiling for a good 4 hours.

It was only then I picked up the back of the Pro Plus box and saw 2 pills every 4 hours. Oops.
(Peter Sutcliffe's Right Bollock, Mon 8 May 2006, 16:52, Reply)

Contradictory Bastard
Two bits of oft-contradictory bloody advice, my old man gave me.

1. Play the field when you're young.
2. Never piss on your own doorstep.

So you can imagine my confusion when arose the opportunity to knock boots with the very, very fit policy officer from the next-door office ... with a corresponding reaction from my auxilary trouser-brain.

Do I take his first bit of advice, and get it whilst I can, before the belly overhangs the belt, the hairline recedes and the only opportunity to get my fingers sticky comes from abusing Werther's Originals?

Or do I throw caution and common sense to the wind, and sweep her off her feet and into the nearest bed, regardless of the consequences for conscience, career and karma?

Well, gentle reader, I followed the first and ignored the second.

Which was a mistake.

Oh, there were no recriminations from colleagues, who to this day remain oblivious, as does my (now ex) bird of the time. The hotel wasn't expensive, the shagging was great and I'm still friends with the policy officer.

But I did get a chronic case of shits from rimming her. Oh well.
( Grouch would quite like his clients to stop being numptys, Mon 8 May 2006, 16:41, Reply)