The pea that refuses to die.
I killed a rat whilst out on a run earlier this year. He jumped from a bank under my foot, it was impossible to avoid and very messy as his head collapsed under my weight. I can't imagine that a rat would be so stupid so I like to think he was having a really bad week and just wanted to end it all. We've had suicide by cop well now there's suicide by jogger.
( number5 has been fighting tramps and losing., Sun 25 Dec 2011, 1:21, Reply)

I've killed quite a few animals but no people
having run a small smallholding where we kept chickens, ducks and geese, bred pet rabbits and had several hunty cats. It's never pleasant but killing things is a necessary part of the lifestyle.
Hmmm let me see....

Had to finish off various birds because they'd been mauled half to death by badgers. Various other mercy killings too - if something's dying slowly and painfully and there's nothing that can be done to relieve it, I'll help it on its way. So far I've 'finished off' mice, rats, pigeons, partridges, rabbits, ducks, chickens, and a ferret.

Killed off several chickens because they were too old to lay any more eggs. Had a go at eating them but I might as well have made curried leather.

Had to kill a whole litter of baby rabbits because the buck had got to the mother (by chewing holes big enough to squeeze through in two pieces of chicken wire) and got her up the duff while she was still pregnant with the previous litter. She wasn't young and she'd have died and both litters would have starved otherwise.

I found a while back with birds that chopping their heads off with an axe is the most humane method I can use. Getting it wrong while breaking an animal's neck is not something I have any desire to repeat. Also you can cradle them and they think it's all OK and then suddenly they're gone, hopefully before they realise anything's amiss.

We bought our geese as one day old chicks and they thought we were all their mum. It took me and a friend all day to kill them because you have to gut and pluck them while they're still warm. At one point when I chopped the head off it spurted blood all over his face and into his mouth.

I could go on. Oh actually I have. Oh well!
(teasus likes tea, Sat 24 Dec 2011, 23:48, 2 replies)

I've killed the mood so many times.
I'm killing brain cells now. The cells that do not like rum can fuck off.
(waxdart hello., Sat 24 Dec 2011, 21:47, Reply)

I killed my cat by throwing it through a window
then killed my 'online' personality by being a complete and utter twat.
(nolongernuts, Sat 24 Dec 2011, 20:50, 2 replies)

Once, in my car.
I drove around the city killing anyone I could by mowing them down. I killed some by knocking bins into them or road signs and especially liked killing old people due to their cries of "'was in the war!".
I killed a few cows too, they went "moo" before they went "splat".
(Me, I'm not... in any way intoxicated, Sat 24 Dec 2011, 19:27, 2 replies)

I shot Hitler in Vietnam along with Mary queen of scots and half of the Cray twins.
Soon after the bloody shoot-out I was awarded the medal of honour (made of chocolate) and escorted to bed by my mum with the knowledge I'd saved the world from Hitler and his unexpected allies.....
(shake'n'bake Tally Ho, Biatch!, Sat 24 Dec 2011, 18:43, 3 replies)

I ate several live woodlice as a younger man.
They died a crunchy death in my mouth. Faintly mushroomy.
( .Yeti., Sat 24 Dec 2011, 18:33, 5 replies)

Despite being a potential tart slashing grim reaper of gophers
I actually try to avoid hitting wildlife for the most part.

This morning I found myself engaging 4 wheel drive to extricate the truck from a small ditch, having narrowly avoided running over a pure white snowshoe hare and slid gracefully off the road.
I see him most mornings in the same spot, daft bugger has turned white so he cannot be seen against the snow yet chooses to wander on the road where he glows like a neon sign. But the thing is, we don't see many rabbits/hares here so I *like* seeing them and wish them no harm. They are not pests like rabbits in the UK are (or gophers here) and that turning white trick makes them extra cool in my book.

So, I nearly killed myself to save him and also noted that although a Leporid never changes his spots, he does turn white in winter.

/edit
And there's a snowy owl on the signpost every day too but he won't let me get close for a photo op, bastard.
( Infidel , shit and wrong, Sat 24 Dec 2011, 18:21, 1 reply)

when my Dad had cancer....going back some years now...
there'd been a story in the paper about some woman who was so riddled with cancer that morphine didn't touch it and she spent her final days screaming in undending agony. I vowed, there and then, that if my Dad suffered like that, with no reprieve and no effective pain relief, that I'd 'sort him out' even if that meant doing some pretty hard stir as a result.
Thankfully for us and him, he seemed to switch himself off at a time of his choosing and just roll over in bed and die, having never had anything more potent for his pain than cocodamol.
But I think I would have done. And I like to think I'd do the same for my Mum and my lad if there was no letup in their torment.
Because if it was Rover or Tiddles you'd not let them suffer, would you?
Thank god there is stuff stronger than morphine these days I hope I never have to make that choice.
( Sallyrsm, Sat 24 Dec 2011, 17:30, 11 replies)

I like to post my responses one week later than required.

(Tugnut Ex of this parish, Sat 24 Dec 2011, 16:34, Reply)

Caring for wildlife.
My stepfather once found a wounded baby bird in our back garden. Being an animal-loving family we decided to nurse it back to health.
For the first few days we fought over who would get to feed it the worms we caught by leaving a piece of wood on the lawn. Then we took to taking it out into the back garden, letting it perch on our fingers and then moving our fingers away quickly to let it try to fly.
As the days went on our little friend grew almost all its flight feathers and seemed to grow before our eyes. Flight lessons were graduating to it circling the garden as it glided and even flapped to gain a little height.
One morning we were in the utility room carefully feeding our little friend a worm when one of the cats pushed through the door, jumped across the room, clawed us out of the way and grabbed the bird in its mouth. As we recovered our senses and tried to catch the cat we heard a crunch and blood spurted a good two feet from the tiny bird as the cat began to purr.
At least we didn't have to bury the bird. I still feel guilty though as it was my job to close the kitchen door to stop the cat getting in.
(Me, I'm not... in any way intoxicated, Sat 24 Dec 2011, 16:33, 1 reply)

The Falkland Islands 1996
I was posted down to this miserable shit hole for the summer months of 96. Apart from the gym or drinking yourself blind there was nothing much left to do. (No sex as the locals were proper munters)
One Saturday, after finishing early a group of us decided to go down to sea front and go nature watching, seals penguins etc, armed with nothing more than cheap disposable cameras. One of the lads, Dutch was a serious headcase decided to come armed with a shovel!!
Down at the front we found loads of penguins and seals all in there natural environment it was great. It was great before Dutch decapitated 4 penguins with his shovel.
There was no way we could have covered it up and after some twitchers found the carcasses we were soon swiftly arrested.
Fair play to to mad Dutch he confessed to it all, still waiting to get my camera back though!!
(Hammy1801 may have scabies!, Sat 24 Dec 2011, 16:11, 6 replies)

Of course we didn't hit it, kids....
A mate was driving along one night when a ghostly shape flew across the road in front of them at low level, no chance of stopping at all. There was no bump though, so he told the worried kids that he'd missed it.

Which worked fine until they pulled onto a faster road and suddenly a huge wing just flopped up and flapped about on top of the bonnet...
(Smegma, Sat 24 Dec 2011, 15:08, Reply)

Ey up av got t'other story!
This time it envolved the beloved Bonzo the bearded dragon and me...

I got her off my brothers mate, after hulking her mahoosive viv up and down and up stairs, we got her into my room, and thus begins the "my lizzard is awesome" phase..

So I shut her lights off and retire to bed

I arise the next morning and to much fear, as I turn the heat lights on, Bonzo remains still...and cold

Shit the poor thing didnt last a day I've killed her!

In blind panic I call up the lad I procured her from, and he started talking bout diets and shite, all of a sudden there's a thud on the glass of the viv..

Theres wor Bonzo proud as punch with that trademark beardie smile on her face.

Heart attack? Not enought to kill but enough to swear manicly.

Length of sweary-ness, bout half an hour.
(Dr_Wookie_Phd The world loves a bastard!, Sat 24 Dec 2011, 13:58, 2 replies)

Do you know how hot
it gets between a window and closed curtains?

I don't either, but hot enough to kill guppies.
(denki, Sat 24 Dec 2011, 12:20, 1 reply)

Goldfish.
Granted,goldfish are not universally renowned for their longevity.But it was only after the death of my ninety-sixth fairground-won personal "Jaws" that my parents pointed out that they DO tend to live longer if you don´t give them milk to drink.(Apparently they are lactose intolerant.)
(shirleytemplesarse, Sat 24 Dec 2011, 12:06, Reply)

Mercy killing

The only thing I've ever deliberately killed was a rabbit while I was on a Duke of Edinburgh expedition. It must have been caught by a bird of prey and dropped - the bird had bitten clean through its spine just behind its head. The poor thing was lying on its side shrieking in terror and twitching , so I did the decent thing and bashed its head in with a rock. The poor thing actually looked relieved as it died.
(new_dawn, Sat 24 Dec 2011, 10:24, 4 replies)

When I find a snail travelling across the footpath
I put it where it's going so it doesn't get stepped on.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sat 24 Dec 2011, 10:11, 11 replies)

Christmas jobs.
It was a thankless job, being a janitor.
The shift pattern was arranged for some reason that some workers got a holiday in June, with the entire month off, and some in December.
Some liked one option, some the other, depending if they preferred a holiday lazing in the sun, or actually liked being with their family.

I vastly preferred the summer holiday, so usually took the Christmas shift.

One of the tasks was the unblocking of the toilets.
For some reason nobody could work out, the toilets seemed to block on a daily basis during December, at least until Christmas day, sometimes a bit more.
Perhaps the festive diet?

So, every day, I'd have to open up one of the doors to the toilets, and be faced with a special present to dispose of, subtly different every day.

At this point I was living in a flat, with the formidable landlady, Mrs Harrow.
We got on well, as did I with her daughter, Anne, who I came to quite fancy.
Anne was planning on studying at a Scottish university, though she was unsure how she'd manage it.

Eventually, I decided to give up the job, though I really enjoyed it in some ways, and support my girl as she went through university. Our own flat was a wonderful change!

So, to sum up.
I used to be an Advent-turder, but then I took Anne Harrow to Dundee.
(speedevil, Sat 24 Dec 2011, 9:49, 4 replies)

I have killed millions...
... of my own sperm on various socks, t-shirts and the navels of slappers.
(Angus the Anus, Sat 24 Dec 2011, 9:45, 4 replies)

What have I killed?
Thousands of rabbits, dozens of hares, many pheasant, lots of rats, a few duck, not enough mink & a few foxes. Tens of thousands of slugs too.
Pheasant for Christmas dinner!
(Shashi, Sat 24 Dec 2011, 9:29, Reply)

Prostitutes.
It's cheaper than paying them.
(Vigilante Man weeps because you're stupid., Sat 24 Dec 2011, 6:58, Reply)

My mum almost got me killed
When I got one of my first bikes, I asked her what side of the road you should go on. She said, "Opposite the side you write with." So off I merrily cycle down lanes, streets and alleys.

She'd forgotten I'm left-handed.
(McChinaman banned, Sat 24 Dec 2011, 6:41, Reply)

Did that just happen?
Took my dad's 10-speed bicycle out for a ride one afternoon when I was 12 or 13. Didn't know the shift mechanism well and was periodically looking down at the levers on the frame (ah, old school). Coming down the drive at a wobbly pace whilst shifting, out of the top of my visual field I see something that looked like a frog's head on the right of the front wheel and its hind quarters on the left side of the front wheel. Being a gravel drive, it was hard to tell if I had seen that or if it was an illusion formed by the gravel. So, I stopped a short ways ahead, and went back on foot. I found two things; one, that there was an ex-frog whose back conformed to a bicycle tire rut and, two, it was not an illusion.
(curlyfries eats curly fries, Sat 24 Dec 2011, 5:18, Reply)

I Almost Killed A Dragon

but then I took an arrow in the knee.......


Cheers
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Sat 24 Dec 2011, 5:05, 4 replies)

In a mouse-infested house some years ago...
My housemates and I were all as pathetically pacifistic as each other, so we bought a bunch of humane traps (the ones that catch but don't kill,) and baited them each with a square of dairy milk, as we'd read that chocolate makes the best mousebait.

Come the morning, one of the traps was sprung; meaning it would likely contain a very bored mouse, waiting impatiently for his glorious release on to the common, and the gnawed remains of the chocobait. We opened it up, carefully, to find no chocolate at all, just a tiny mouse, only very slightly bigger than the square of chocolate it'd apparently eaten. The mouse was quite dead. The little moron, bereft of anything else to do to pass the time, had grimly eaten and eaten and eaten until it'd ruptured itself to death.

Humane trap? We tried! We really did. We just didn't count on mice being such fucking idiots.
( Zoroastermouse thinks therefore he am, Sat 24 Dec 2011, 1:03, 7 replies)

Another one featuring the same guy as below
Some years ago I had dragged two friends along to a large event being held on an airfield. As I was rather more interested by the goings-on than they were, they decided to bugger off home early. On the way back through the carpark, Alex found a freshly deceased hedgehog by the side of the path. As a group of approximately thirty schoolchildren rounded the corner, Karl shouted (with an evil glint in his eye) "ALEX! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU KILLED THAT HEDGEHOG!".

Exit Alex, pursued for what I believe turned out to be a fair distance by a group of eight-year old vigilantes.
( MatJ LOOK, Sat 24 Dec 2011, 0:26, Reply)

I don't know if it died, but it wouldn't have been too healthy afterwards.
A few years ago, I was driving my friend Alex into town in my dad's battered old golf estate. It was high summer, we had the windows down, some Led Zeppelin on the stereo... all was right with the world. Rounding a corner at about 50mph, I spied half a dozen pigeons on the road, trying to eat the tarmac or something. I was in a hurry (we were going to the pub), I was eighteen and Led Zeppelin were playing. I wasn't slowing for a pigeon. I thought they'd all get clear in any case.

Most of them did, but one was a fraction too slow. It bounced off the bonnet and clobbered the aerial, breaking it off. The slipstream then ensured that the aerial was sucked in through the passenger window to belt Alex in the side of the head. A fraction of a second later it was followed, beak first, by the (now enraged) pigeon. Somehow it managed to get in a solid peck or two at Alex's head, before leaving the same way it came in.

I nearly ploughed the car into a ditch, I was laughing so hard. It was only made better at the pub later when one girl leant over and asked "Alex... Why have you got feathers in your hair?"





/repost
( MatJ LOOK, Sat 24 Dec 2011, 0:21, Reply)

I was once on a course of antibiotics.
It was a bacterial genocide every time I took one of those pills.
(Woodlouse say it with flowers. Send her a Triffid, Sat 24 Dec 2011, 0:09, 2 replies)

Worst dead thing I ever saw
Was a dead cow when I was in India. It was just off the beaten track at the side of the road. We had taken a rickshaw to visit the Ajanta Caves and pulled over for a moment.

I noticed a large, roundish furry thing that kind of looked like a boulder, but upon closer examination I found it was a dead cow, inflated with gas and decomposing slightly.

Its tongue hung from its mouth and its eyes were still open but being eaten by flies... and the fucking smell.

It looked like a grotesque cartoon and when I moved closer to it, a huge swarm of black flies erupted from inside its head. Eurgh.

Sorry for unfunnies.
(mr-lizard Hell's teeth man!, Sat 24 Dec 2011, 0:05, 3 replies)