Woo to sisters!
When my older sister and i were younger she once sprayed purfume in my eyes, causing me to trip and fall down the stairs... one broken arm later and i nearly knocked her out hitting her on the head with my hurting arm in its lovely cast.

another incident was her on the computer when it was my turn, i slap her and she chins me, which results in my slamming her head off the monitor.

oh joy, it appears i liked hitting her head.
(vbdub hooked on monkey phonics, Fri 19 Aug 2005, 14:46, Reply)

Best question ever!
1) I hit my brother in the hip with a golf club, he couldn't walk for a week.
2) I strangled him once and he couldn;t speakf or 3 days.
3) I swung at him, he flailed away and slapped an Iron when it was on.

But, adversely,
1) He hit me in the face with a cricket bat
2) He threw a huge stick into a dirt track, which I crashed on, and needed stitches,


However, the highlight of sibling fights are when my sister starts crying, because its always fale. The sight of my brother throwin a tennis ball 25 yards, hitting her swquare on the forehead and her screaming in "agony" was priceless.
(acharps, Fri 19 Aug 2005, 14:46, Reply)

I hate my brother so much
When he was 10 and I was 9 we were messing around with a friends crappy little motorbike. The older kid was giving us rides on the back. Then they decided that it would be really fun to let me have a go all on my own in a field behind our house. I was game.

They told me how to accelerate but not how to brake.

Picture me doing laps of the field and shouting to them every time I passed them asking how to stop, with them doubled over in laughter.

In the end the only way I could stop was by tipping the bike over and skidding into the bushes, mangling my left leg under the bike. And I browned my pants. Bastards.
(Peelmytangerines, Fri 19 Aug 2005, 14:45, Reply)

Mental bullying
I still feel pretty bad for this but when my sister was younger she was pretty self concious about her weight. So after she annoyed me one day what did I do? Proceeded to verbally abuse her by calling her a beached whale over and over every 2 seconds for a good ten minutes till she slowly collapsed on to the floor in tears.

Now she's the thin one and I'm a big un so I suppose that's only fair really.
( beefandcheese, Fri 19 Aug 2005, 14:43, Reply)

Screwdriver
I have two younger sisters but it was always fairly prosaic fighting-hair pulling, scratching, biting, the usual.

However, my mum was one of nine children and by all accounts she and her older brother Steven were not the best of friends. One day he decided to swap the sugar for salt, which made my mum spit cereal everywhere and look generally stupid-I think it was that that really set her off.

She decided to exact revenge with a not entirely level response. She took a long screwdriver and placed it with the handle wedged in the sofa and the prong upright. She then staged a fight, allowing her to push him onto the upright screwdriver. Luckily he was about 2 inches right of where she aimed to push him and only had a deep gash in his buttock. As he sat there stunned and bleeding she stuck a fork in his hand.

She swore that she actually wanted to kill him - the glint her eye as she told the story made me believe her.
(rumandcoke, Fri 19 Aug 2005, 14:30, Reply)

I like this QOTW.
My sisters and I would fight like there was no tomorrow when we were younger, but they both knew that I would always win due to being stronger and quite a bit bigger (i.e. fat).

My favourite incident was when my older sister tried to kick me, but instead I caught her foot and twisted it round, resulting in her flying head first down the stairs. She hit the hoover at the bottom. I laughed. Lots.

Apparently I broke my younger sister's nose, but I'm sure the hairbrush I threw only gave her a nosebleed and didn't actually break anything.

Someone once babysat for us then refused to ever again. We were perfectly angelic .
(violetsheep, Fri 19 Aug 2005, 14:17, Reply)

Me & my sister got on great
but she fucked me up a couple of times:

When I was 7 and she was 10 she called me over to where she was sitting at a fireplace. Upon my arrival she applied the red-hot fifty pence piece she'd been warming on the fire to my forehead before immediately running off. Mid-scream, I prised the coin off my forehead and lauched it at her; it missed by a fraction but scored a direct hit on the telly, shattering the screen and ensuring me a kicking from dad. As if that wasn't enough I had to wander round with the coin imprint (tails side if you're interested) on my head for 2 weeks.

The other time, I was 10 and she was 13, and I was sitting on the windowsill in her bedroom which was directly over a rickety old greenhouse. She came up to me and did that "boo!" thing where you pretend to push someone but don't. It scared me though and I lost my balance, falling backwards off the windowsill, through the greenhouse, and onto the tiled floor 20 feet below below.

The fall (or rather the landing) split my head open, knocked me unconscious, broke 2 ribs, and severed the artery in my left wrist. I nearly died and the whole episode very nearly ended with me being taken away by social services!
(Zapol Unlurked at, Fri 19 Aug 2005, 14:06, Reply)

Torture by Lego
Apart from beating the crap out of my little (well behaved, highly academic) brother. Locking his little mates in the
shed ("there are some sweats at the back!") and then screaming "Snakes! Spiders!" Oh and dangling him over the banisters from his feat and making him say things like "I'm a big poofta". He used to love making large elaborate spaceships out of lego. I'd pretend not to be interested until completion then I'd grab it and swing it wildly around making "Neeeaarrrnnnnn" noises as I flew it close to walls etc. After I got bored with this I'd say " I think this should fly upstairs", which meant it was time to crash it down the stairs.
Drawing it out with a few more "neeeeeaarn, whooosh" noises I'd sling it downstairs and watch it disintegrate. While
my brother was crying and cursing me I'd give him a massive deadleg and bid him good day.

Ahhhh, happy times.

He is a copper now.
( kirkbear2, Fri 19 Aug 2005, 13:45, Reply)

If you can't handle a bit of length look away
Growing up with two younger brothers I took as much delight inflicting pain on them as they did to me and each other. The list is quite comprehensive but a few short family highlights include:

Throwing a pitchfork at my middle brother in a fit of rage. Said pitchfork went straight through my brothers shoe and pinned him to the back lawn. He was lucky to escape with all his toes that day. My arse was unfortunately not so lucky after the walloping I received.


Same brother again and I having a bath together, I must have been about 7, he 4. Throwing various projectiles at each other until I threw the nailbrush, he flinched and belted his head on the tap. Down to the doctors surgery, dad goes in with lil bro, mum peeks in, lil bro sitting there with 3 stitches to his head munching on a jelly bean, dad passed out on stretcher.

Middle brother and baby brother decide to go fishing one year on a camping trip. Middle bro hooks lil bro in the head with one of those triple hook monstrosities whilst casting his line. More stitches.

Xmas day a few years ago, out on the old's boat for a nice bbq and a swim. Middle bro decides it'll be funny to chuck me in the water, I fight valiantly only to go in anyway, whack my leg on the marlin board and end up with my first batch of stitches ever. On Christmas Day. Bastard.

My middle bro and I wound our little brother up so much one day that he went to Dad's gun cupboard and came out with a rifle and a mad look in his eye. Tis a pants ruining experience.

But the best/worst one would have to be...
On a family holiday to Bali back in '94, it's my birthday and we all go out for a nice breakfast, do a spot of shopping, baby bro buys a BB gun, supposedly brand new and unloaded, I ask to have a look, aim and fire at him thinking the gun was unloaded, it wasn't. I shot him in the corner of his eye. If only the day ended there though. Decide to hire some jet-ski's and have a round of "jet ski chasey". The idea being to nudge the other person's jet ski so they are "it". Little did I know that when you release the throttle you lose the steering as well. I'm "it" and I go up to my lil bro's jetski, slowly mind you so as not to hurt him, lose all power and watch horrified as my jetski mounts his and slices his head right open...while we're about half a mile out to sea. Little blighter was more worried about ruining my birthday than the 26 stitches he got to his head. Bless.
(firesnake, Fri 19 Aug 2005, 13:10, Reply)

Tit & Tears
Me and my older sister constantly bickered & fought through our childhood although never getting to the stage of needing hospital treatment.
The last time we really fought (me about 15 and her about 18) i learned some new and interesting facts about the female body and how it deals with pain.
An ordinary argument culminated in me punching her as hard as I could on her left breast (I don't think i necessarily aimed for the left one, just happened to hit it). Next thing I know she was releasing the most piercing scream I have ever heard. How the windows and glass ornaments didn't explode I'll never know. The odd thing was that after the initial scream she sat on the sofa blubbing away quietly for about 40 mins until my parents came home at which point (strangely coinciding with my parents opening the front door) she once again emitted her harpy scream. I can only compare the quiet blubbing and massive screaming with the noises of a racing car. The blubbing as if the engine is idling and the scream is the same as just before the lights go out at a Formula One race start.
I still don't know what way her nerves are organised but it seems there is a nerve motorway and nerve b-road from the female breast to the female brain. This explains the initial scream (motorway) and the 40 minute gap to the secondary scream (b-road). This explanation makes me happier than the thought that she was sitting there with crocadile tears for 40 minutes waiting on my parents to get home so I'd get into trouble. That would make her a truly evil bitch.
( sneep used to date Freddie Starr's hamster, Fri 19 Aug 2005, 13:06, Reply)

Mwahahahaha!
My brother gave me a black eye with a bubble bath bottle.

I tried to choke him with a rubber when he was only a few months old and threw a massive hairbrush down the stairs at him that earned me a sore bum.

He still has oddly-grown eyebrows from various scraps we had too. I always managed to punch him in the head it seems.
(Bunnygirl, Fri 19 Aug 2005, 13:02, Reply)

nettle twitcher
as a boy of perhaps 13, my younger bro and i did that needling, niggling aggravation that is the usual result of a 3 yr age gap, especially when the eldest (me) is a smug bastard, always rubbing it in about late bedtimes, going into town alone etc... i used to wind him up into mad-eyed spittle-flying squawking rages, merely by singing a little song about him being but a wee baby and me being a groovy dude... one fine holiday afternon in yorkshire, we were traipsing along behind the parents, me winding him up until the inevitable happened and he snapped, launching his puny 10 year old body at me, him wearing nothing but shorts. As he ran at me, i sidestepped him, and grabbed at him - managed to get a wrist and the opposite knee, and using his inertia, managed to lift him over my head, inna wrestling style (and i mean mick mc manus and kendo nagasaki 70s wrestling, watched by psychotic pensioners across the land..) and flung him into a grassy mound next to us. What i'd failed to realise (although i bet i'd have still done it if i'd known) that the grass was, in fact, a giant clump of evil stinging nettles - so ripe the venom was dripping off the tips, and i could hear their vile clorophyll laughter... imagine! a 10 year old in thin shorts landing from about 6 foot up, horizontally onto his back in BIG nettles! it looked like he'd been eleoctrocuted, the only parts of him touching the ground at one point were the back of his head and his heels, and due to the winding from the fall, he coulnd'nt scream.... as he was flailing and flapping, with some particularly appaling noises coming from his stunned lungs, the parents turned round.... to see me, elder brother, gamely leaping into the nettles to save brother... shouting to them that he must have slipped on the verge (no big deal to me, i was 13 and in jeans..)
dragged him out (he still couldn't speak) and he got comforted then told off for being clumsy!!!

a friend is a chef - his parents own a restauraunt, in which he'd do odd shifts to help out. one afternoon, his tomato-adoring brother came in, and ordered a steak with grilled tomatoes. so my chum injected a huge tomato with a whole bottle of tabasco, knowing that brother would scoff it first.... he didnt even pick up a knife and fork, when the plate was served he just popped the little red bundle of horror into his mouth and bit down....
apprently he had trouble tasting his steak.

ithankyou.
(micky2shoes has more shoes than feet, Fri 19 Aug 2005, 12:56, Reply)

Well it had all kicked off
I was fighting this big black guy (i'm not that big and a white boy) and had just been knocked through a window. Well I got up and bugger me if he didn't follow me through and continue.. any wayit all ends up with him wheazing away after cutting off my hand only for the bastard to tell me.
"No luke, I am your father".

Got my own back, I killed his boss, kicked his ass and blew up his place of work!!! ahahhaha
(timberwolf0122 is turkey volume guessing man! Guessing the volumes in terms of turkeys since, Fri 19 Aug 2005, 12:54, Reply)

WWF!
After staying up all night to watch summer slam or something when i was 12 with my friend we decided in the morning when my little brother woke up we would 3d him into my sofa. so my brother wonders down stairs only to be grabbed by the waist lifted into the air his head hits the celling knock a huge chuck out of the celling and kncoking him uncocious then he is flung into my sofa and breaks it in two also fracturing his arm. needless to say my mum was pissed, and me and my friend were pissing our selves laughing (i was never alound to watch WWF again)
(Hello Coco?, Fri 19 Aug 2005, 12:29, Reply)

Not by me but what my sister did to me
For as long as I can remember, my sister found it 'hilarious' to push me down the stairs which were long down with a corner turning near the bottom. It happened all wthe way through my childhood, from her throwing my tys down and 'pushing' me after them, convincing me to go head first in a sleeping bag and rolling me down would be fun (she never).
So all my dreams were usually haunted by me flying down the stairs. Amazingly i dont remember getting badly hurt which is a miricle.

One of her favorite games with her friend (who was supposed to be my friend but i hated her guts as she was a mean bitch) was them 2 to get in a sleeping bag like a slegh while i was curled up as the bumper at the bottom.

Just before we moved away when I was 10-11, my sis decided to trip/push me again for the last time in which my head smacked against the wall of the bend. Had a bit of a bad bump but the solid wall had a masive head dent in it which earned my sister a smack.
( Blobcat Less Jaffacakes this year, Fri 19 Aug 2005, 12:29, Reply)

Whilst playing with a pick axe
I managed to chop my brother's thumb off to the point it was left dangling, a small bit of skin and a tendon the only thing left keeping it attached to his hand. I was 8, he was 6. He thought it would be a good idea to hold a log while I thought it would be a good idea to "give it some welly".

I always remember the doctors asking my parents, "So why did you allow you children to play with a pick axe?".

He did get it sown back on successfully, so no damage done.
(Tinium, Fri 19 Aug 2005, 12:26, Reply)

my n my bruv...
used to have play fights, as you do.

until he dragged me by the foot across a nylon carpet, giving me friction burns all down my back.

so i threw a carving knife at him

so he hit me with a bullet belt

loverly family, aren't we?

footnote: School doc saw the burns and thought my mum had done it. they called her into school, got accused of abusing me, and as i hadn't told her about the fight, i got in double trouble.
( Godzuki needs more sleep., Fri 19 Aug 2005, 12:19, Reply)

When i was little,
I was getting out of my dads Maxi as my brother decided to slam the car door. On my thumb. And then lock it. I just stood there screaming with my thumb jammed firmly in the door, as my dad struggled to find his keys. Hurt like fuckery.
( DumbMonkey The penis mightier than the sword, Fri 19 Aug 2005, 12:09, Reply)

Gomi No Sensei
I'm with you on this one, mate. I'm sure some people just type complete and utter nonsense on here. It's really not entertaining and a waste of everybody's time. I don't have time for people's lies.

I, myself, don't have a brother or sister, which is a dreadful shame because I feel I'm missing out on a certain kind of love that can only exist between siblings. My dad was fortunate enough to have many siblings. So he received a great deal of that special kind of love, mainly from his older brothers. In turn he passed on this love to his younger siblings, especially his sisters, although the youngest brother, Julian, a bonnie-faced young lad, enjoyed love from all of them at one time or another. The people of the town used to compare him to a kindly, white-faced sheep, as opposed to a sinister-looking, marauding black-faced one. He was happy enough, and nobody ever meant to hurt him. But anyway, here's the story in my dad's words:

"We were a large family. Twelve of us living in a modest terraced house. There were five lads and seven lasses. We had some fun, I can tell you. I think our mum and dad were somewhere about the house but we could never see them on account of all the large, clunking mounds of empty, unwashed Robinson's Silver Shred jars that had amassed over the years. Not that we needed our mum and dad. We used to look after ourselves and make our own entertainment. I remember finding an old space hopper in the cellar. We fought over it for days, but I won. I played on it for weeks, non-stop, bouncing up and down the street. It was only when Mrs. Hayes, the withered old gangrinous crone from next door, pointed out the onset of pubic hair just below what I thought was the smily face that I realised I'd been gleefully hopping around on my younger sister. We did laugh.

"We were all quite happy. We didn't have jobs to earn money for food and drink, so most mornings we'd take it in turns to rob the milkman. He was gay so he couldn't fight. He usually had a few quid in his back pocket so we'd steal it and use it to buy things like bread, milk, cheese, poppers, thimbles - the usual stuff. Then one day he got wise and stopped carrying cash so we had to change our plan. Young Julian was a bonnie lad. We taught him the ways of the world and the skills he would need. We were very thorough about it. And then, when he was ready and the scars had healed and he could walk again, we pimped him out around town. We thought we'd have problems getting people to take him seriously because he had such an insanely laughable speech impediment, but ultimately we took comfort in the fact that he couldn't talk with his little mouth full. Ah, that sweet, warm mouth. He disappeared soon after. We heard tales of him riding in boxcars to Sheffield. Other sources told us he'd joined the travelling circus, playing the role of Colin The Amazing Coin-Operated Shoe-Shine Girl. Wherever he was, one thing was for sure: he'd never be without a bob or two with that small, moist, warm mouth of his. I can still smell him, as though his aromatic ghost is pursuing me with lust from beyond the grave. The thought of it makes my cock twitch."

So there you have it, straight from the horse's mouth. I never tire of that story, although I sometimes feel sad that my mum was mistaken for a space hopper.
(stusut79, Fri 19 Aug 2005, 12:05, Reply)

Brother was sporty...
...I read books and comics and played computer games so it was me that mainly got wounded.

He would bite, kick, gave me my first black eye (and while I lay reeling from that he delivered a gob in the face as a coup-de-grace) and once stabbed me in the face with a pair of dress-makers scissors; I’ve still got the little ‘dink’ they made about 3mm from the start of my eye socket.

The only time I ever really hurt him was when I got him down once and kicked him in the kidneys so much he said he pissed blood that night. Heh, summer holidays.
(skitster, Fri 19 Aug 2005, 11:52, Reply)

Gomi No Sensei
Now I like it,

where did I cut and paste it from?
(JinDod, Fri 19 Aug 2005, 11:50, Reply)

Jindod
I've changed it now..if you liked my last post, you'll love the new one
(Gomi No Sensei, Fri 19 Aug 2005, 11:45, Reply)

My sister had it coming...
My rather annoying sister got the following..

- Fed her a month's supply of contraception pills... They were sweets, innit? (She was 3)
- Slammed a gate in her face - 6 stitches in her forehead (Aged 4)
- Held her "My Little pony" collection to ransom and made her eat a maggoted, rotten crab apple. I still torched her ponies even after she ate the crab apple!
- Drawing pins in the shower and soap on the toothbrush...old skool.
- Spiders, bugs, newts, frogs, worms etc in her bed (Psychological damage!!!)
- Emptied the contents of "My First Chemistry" set into her Sodastream coke and happily watch her drink it. (This is when my mum took me to see a shrink) - She was of course violently sick throwing up iron filings....class!
- Always tied her bag to the pole on the school bus, leaving her to walk 2 miles back home after missing the stop...ha ha!
- I put a tiny padlock on the chain of her bike, causing a serious stack and complete damage!
- Last and but not least I un-did the legs of her wardrobe causing it to collapse on her and break her wrist. (She was also trapped under the wardrobe for over an hour.

Brotherly love eh! ;)
(eurrrrrggggggghhhhhh Cunting /talk, Fri 19 Aug 2005, 11:41, Reply)

Actually come to think of it
I have caused my sister many injuries in my childhood...through my mum

Never was a sappy grass but my sis was mean so I did 50% of the time, causeing my sister to get yelled or smacked on the bum :D
( Blobcat Less Jaffacakes this year, Fri 19 Aug 2005, 11:40, Reply)

Cartoon influence - all bad!
My elder sister and I were playing hide and seek. She hid under the swimming pool liner under the house and I hit her on the head with a hammer. Not hard, but it obviously hurt, and her wails alerted my mum who gave me a swift swipe in the butt region and I lived in dread of what Dad would say or do when he got home. "Wait until your father gets home!" was the worst thing you could imagine hearing. Mental torture.

My little sister also got nasty with the same elder sister by demanding she show her the moth she had caught. Jan demurred as only a bratty elder sister can, so Michelle promptly bit her on the arm.

I have no scars. I was the good sister. Mostly.
( Shazzoir Old enough to know better young enough not to care, Fri 19 Aug 2005, 11:36, Reply)