Teenage Rage
I am, normally and notably, very steady and placid. However two incidents from my early teens stand out in marked contrast - despite being hormonally driven, the glimpses beneath the calm exterior to the latent Berserker within are disquieting.

I've always been quite handy, and decided one day to make a caddy for our trash cans. The intent was to keep them a) from falling over and b) in a straight lined neat row. Partway through the project I realized that I would need to make the frontspiece removable so that the cans could be taken out easily when full.

The bolt I picked to secure this last joint wouldn't fit correctly - I'd drilled the hole too snug. This could be easily fixed by either drilling out the hole or using a smaller bolt, but I. Just. Lost. My. Shit. I pulled the offending board off the structure, and broke it over my knee. This was a 10' 2x4, btw, not some wimpy lath. Then I took the pieces and proceeded to smash them into a nearby rock, repeatedly, eventually reducing the entire board to splinters. After I calmed down, I cut a new board and fixed the problem.

The second episode is more disturbing, if less actually violent. During an argument over which pot to use to make some soup with a friend, I grabbed a kitchen knife and chased her out of the house. I was totally out of control, and if I'd caught her I don't know what I'd have done. We've both not forgotten the incident, even though it was over 40 years ago. She claims that I was possessed for a moment, and I don't argue the point.

So, don't piss me off if I'm a teenager, I guess.
(danalan Pretty good, for an amateur., Thu 21 Jul 2011, 23:06, 3 replies)

I tried..
..opening my front door with the car keys, not the actual key but using the central locking buttons ??

Also placed a bottle of bleach in the fridge (must have reminded me of milk or something).
( Signify, Thu 21 Jul 2011, 22:34, 2 replies)

Running in the family...

I came home from school one lunchtime to find my mum, who has two honours degrees and a post-grad, in floods of tears because she couldn't remember how to spell "cheese" on her shopping list.

I seem to have inherited a different kind of word blindness - I often forget the most simple of words and am reduced to describing them - that shiny thing in the wall that you see out of (window), the wee hairy noisy thing (my cat), the hot box you make your dinner in (the oven). I also instantly forget anyone's name a millisecond after we're introduced, but I think that happens to most people, doesn't it?
(Burnside79, Thu 21 Jul 2011, 22:20, 6 replies)

oh good lord...
first post! be nice and all that...
right, here goes:

-searching for pencils that were in my hand
-packing school books for the day before or the day after
-fraping my own facebook
-running for a train and just getting on when I realise its the wrong train
-putting my removable plaster cast (from when i broke my hand) on the wrong hand and wondering why it didnt fit
-letting the shopkeep keep over a tenners change

the list goes on...
Length? well im 13 now so 13 years ive been losing it :/
(D.I.pshit solved another case on, Thu 21 Jul 2011, 21:56, 13 replies)

I work on an internal support line (actually in the office now)
and on my last call, while waiting for a diagnostic to run through on a system I likened the co-worker's temperament to that of someone who had just watched "Schindlers Shih-tzu", a sad moving film about Jewish Puppy concentration camps set up in the 2nd World War and a secret veterinary surgeon trying to smuggle them out of Germany by disguising them as cats.

I must stop drinking Redbull.
( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Thu 21 Jul 2011, 21:32, Reply)

Not me this time:
Riding on an old, slam door train, to London, I had the pleasure of sharing my journey with a group of ladettes, and their incessant squawking (picking their Spice Girl names, which dates this story for you). Having endured 30 minutes or so of this, I was relieved to find the train slowing to a stop at Victoria. At this point, the lovely ladettes get up to leave, and the first one to the door exclaims "Oh my god, there's no handle on the door! How will we get out?!"

Lowering the window on my door, to reach out and turn the handle, I exit the train and leave them to it.
( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Thu 21 Jul 2011, 21:24, 1 reply)

Watching my mother take a pan off the hob,
and turn out the gas, I thought to myself: "If the gas comes out the outside of the ring, the middle must remain cool, as all the heat and flame travels up, to the bottom of the pan."

To test this hypothesis, I placed my palm on the hob.

The tragedy of all this, is that I was probably about 17, at the time.
( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Thu 21 Jul 2011, 21:15, 4 replies)

many years ago going down a very steep hill on a mountain bike
i crashed near the bottom and was thrown for around 30/40 feet before hitting the ground,
the car that was following me down tried to over take just as my bike's front wheel hit a pot hole at an angle that threw me right of the bike, and into the path of the overtaking car . who promptly ran over me.
leaving me wrapped around the front wheel, and wedged under the front of the car with his front right tire touching my head.
once they got me out of this mess the injury's didnt seem to bad to me , no pain none not a twinge or any blood either but my right ankle was bent through 90 degrees and i had a big hole where there shouldn't have been one.
never mind no blood so cant be to bad and no pain still so must be ok?
ambulance was fun all that no2 to sniff and still no pain or blood or for that matter any colour in my right foot which was starting to feel very cold indeed.
into a cubical and doctor looks at me and goes of to find a bigger doctor, now the second one who came in was a man mountain massive huge and Indian with his turban and little round glasses hidden in his massive round face, he than started to talk to me and i couldn't understand a word he said except for 5 words, before everything turned black, those words?
giberish giberish blah blah this may hurt a bit. at that point he pulled the ankle back into position the pressure was of the injury and i blacked out at the sudden drop of blood pressure and wave of pain.
when i came round there was huge splash of blood on the cubical wall and the doctor was wiping his arm down .
turns out that i had fractured the talus in 3 places as well as dislocating the ankle .
this happend around 1991 and i still have to take major pills to keep the pain at bay i have necrosis of the talus arthritis and have spent a total of 4 years in plaster and 7 years on cruches .
the pain is always there and getting worse due to the nerve damage they tried me on lyrica a very good pain tablet that totaly screwed my head to the point that i had no emotions at all and nearly cost me my wife and family.
got of those and now have to look forward to amputation as the next port of call i have been down that road already and decided that my foot was better of still being a part of me but docs will be docs .
so now folks dont feel sorry just get on with doing what you do. would i go back and change what happend? take a differant road or go a differant day?
no because although classed as disabled i still manage to work doing things that i shouldnt like lifting and ladders etc i have met people who needed help when talking to some about there injury i have helped people come to terms with what has happened and i have made a difference to them and there family's
i have a shit load of mental tabs to get me of off my head
life has been good and funny and i wouldn't change it

and bonus go to a theme park with a raspberry ripple and get on all the rides with no queuing

not a funny story and not bullshit story just a little accident
as for spelling and cuntuation ? meh
( fluffybunnykiller Is feasting on the clitoris of life, Thu 21 Jul 2011, 21:03, 4 replies)

Trying to unlock the front door with the car key
not the end of the key, using the remote central locking.

Or does everyone do that?
( thistle, Thu 21 Jul 2011, 21:02, 3 replies)

Oh no, not again...
TWICE in my life now I have polished a pair of shoes then put them in the fridge, closed the door and wandered off to another room.

TWICE I have thrown up without warning in the evening of my children's births.

ONCE I have poured a vodka and topped it up with milk. But it seems I'm not alone in that.


Approaching a junction, slow down, apply handbrake, select neutral. Look left and right for longer than is comfortable. Admit to self I really have forgotten where the hell I was going.

Venlafaxine. And old age. Love it.
(LisawithoutaC, Thu 21 Jul 2011, 20:58, 3 replies)

Plate warming
Many years ago my mum was cooking us a fry up. She went to get the plates out of the oven that she had put in there as usual on a low heat just to warm up( Who wants to eat bacon off a stone cold plate after all? ) but they were not there. "Oh I must have forgot to put the plates in!" she said and put 3 more in out of the cupboard. Then when she went to get the milk out of the fridge er... there were the original plates. Of course I myself would never do anything as stupid as that. Guess where I found my missing sugar bowl the other day!
(Mackeson_drinker, Thu 21 Jul 2011, 20:50, 1 reply)

.
( enoughblueskyforsailorstrousers, Thu 21 Jul 2011, 20:27, 2 replies)

Girlfriends drive you crazy
I was 16, it was 2am, and my abusive, evil, selfish, crazy (not an exageration - her grip on reality was very weak) girlfriend had had me on the phone telling me what a horrible person I was, that I didn't deserve to live or exist, that everything I believed was wrong, that I was worthless, etc, etc ... for a good 6? 8? 10 hours? And this was the third or fourth night in a row of it, I'd be up till very late listening to this, go to school and hear more of it from her, (except when she was telling me how much she loved me and needed me) then come home and repeat the pattern... the only reason why I can give you is, of course, I thought I loved her.

I was losing my sense of self, I had tried in the beginning to comfort her, in the middle to discuss things with her, and by the end just to agree with her so I could get free, but she wouldn't stop, she just kept pushing and pushing trying to break me completely...

And it was working, I was truly losing my grip on what was real, on who I really was versus what she was telling me I was.

But apparently when I lose myself completely - I have a back-up self. As I started to fade into nothingness, a strong voice that was definitely *not me* came out of my mouth and said "Hasn't he had enough?" into the phone, and then hung up the phone.

Guardian Angel? My dead grandfather watching over me? Passing spirit that couldn't believe this girl and possessed me for a minute?

Or small psychotic break?

[shrug] Whatever.

Somehow, the fact that someone cared enough about me to do it (... even if it was maybe a fractured bit of my own self...) was a great comfort to me, and I got through it. The sleep I got the rest of the night helped too.

Since then I've always found the voices in my head a source of great strength and comfort, I'm very grateful for them - it's something special to always have those you can count on, right there with you.
I'm very loved =)
( Allisade would love to hear from you, Thu 21 Jul 2011, 20:07, 5 replies)

Once, the morning after a particularly heavy night,
I realised that I had forgotten how to piss. Everything was in the right place (cock out, above the porcelain), but nothing was happening. Had to concentrate really hard to work the right muscles.

At the other end of the scale, I once went for a jog, topless, in the snow, after trying out my new, giant sized mug - I think I drank about 3 pints of coffee. Can I have a prize for the worst MASSIVE DRUGS story, please?
( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Thu 21 Jul 2011, 20:05, 7 replies)

I'd been at it all night...
...producing a complicated animation involving various sprockets and chains. I had somewhere to be later on that morning. Time to get cleaned up. I changed my shirt, changed my trousers, did up my belt...no, should have tucked shirt in first. My brain said 'undo' and for a few moments I was confused by the fact that I couldn't find Control-Z.
(CADmonkey rollllllllled another one, just like the other one, Thu 21 Jul 2011, 19:55, Reply)

My poor baby
17 days after my son was born, I had gotten maybe 17 hours sleep since his birth. A bit here, a bit there, the first week I hadn't slept at all - he had been born with a high bilirubin count and not knowing that this is reasonably normal (and having doctors telling me it was a worry) I had basically stood with him during every minute of his life - holding his hand and being there with him during the light treatments, during him sleeping, doing a lot of bottle feeding (of expressed milk) so his mother could get some sleep, and of course - changing his diapers every 90 minutes.

Most of this happened while we were in the hospital, but finally - we were home, things were resolved and I was going to go to bed - early and thoroughly. I was truly, devotedly looking forward to real sleep.

My wife decided "oh you're going up? why don't you take him with you and you both can get to bed early!"

It doesn't really work that way, and I'm not sure if my wife was just as brain dead as I was at the time and believed what she said, or is just a cruel and heartless woman, but I took him along with me and gave the wife some time to herself.

Curling up next to him, with him snuggling up against my body is one of the best feelings in the world, but it isn't really good for getting deep sleep. Still, I prepared to get a full 90 minutes or so of exhaustion-sleep, as that was the most I could expect before he would be hungry or need changing.

Right on schedule - 90 minutes later, he started wiggling and letting me know - he had a full diaper.

And this is where I think I qualified for insanity.

I got up to change my son's diaper, an action I was well well trained to do already.

In my mind though... things were a little bit different. Somewhere in the last 24 hours I had heard someone talking about Dungeons and Dragons, about how some groups you play with are great - and some are horrible.

In my mind, with the surety of dreams and late night stupidity - I somehow KNEW that my son's poop, deviously hidden in his diaper - was the ploy of a D&D group that was just taking the piss out of me, in poo form.

They had made this little scenario up! And they thought I couldn't tell.

These were my thoughts as I began to get up and move to the changing table - and understand - I was completely and utterly serious. I had no filter going on between me, reality, fantasy and the weird half dream world of no-sleep-exhaustion I'd been living in the last week.

As I stood and felt the weight of my son and his diaper, it went further.

"I cannot believe these guys, they must think I'm idiot - they've teleported their characters into the diaper. Do they think I won't figure it out?"

I could tell there was a little forest scene in the diaper, and that their characters were hiding behind the trees, waiting to spring out and make me look foolish.

I weighed him in my hands "That's at least six fighters worth in there"

He wiggled in my hands "There's a huge battle! They're fighting amongst themselves"

As I sat up and he seemed to get heavier "And they have horses"

Getting my hand under his diaper to carry him properly "The heat, someone just cast fireball, there must be a wizard attacking from a distance!"

As I walked towards the changing station on the other side of the room, I started to get upset "This is horribly unfair and I am not amused, how childish they must be to think my son's pants are a proper medium for their jokes and selfish squabbles!"

I'm full blown piqued and annoyed with these imaginary people who are having their imaginary characters secretly fight in my son's diapers for their amusement and cheap gamesmanship. "They think I won't know they're doing this? Of course I know everything that happens in my son's diapers! The sheer cheekery!"

As I attempt to unwrap him from his swaddling I begin to see their plan for hiding the situation, there's layers upon layers of misdirection and obfuscation - every fold and turn of the baby blanket is a physical manifestation of the convoluted beliefs and actions of these selfish gamers trying to use my baby's bottom for their own ends.

My hands continue the rote and mindless actions of laying my little tyke out on the changing station (now sans blanky) and moving his long shirt out of the way so I can remove his diaper. He struggles to avoid being exposed to the cold and I interpret that as futile attempts to cover up for the imaginary players and their shennanigans.

I reassure him - out loud - not just in my confused mind - but in the real world - that it's ok, and that I know what's going on, and what I'll find in his diaper.

Part of me is pretty confident that I will not be finding a section of forest with little people darting about the trees in full armor and flashes of light going off when I pull the diaper down, but instead will be finding the much more familiar and normal deposits you would expect.

But a larger, still sleeping part of me, tries to figure this out and realizes - this is only true because the gaming group must have retreated from the underpants of my son to ... the kitchen.

The utter bastards.

I am going to get these asses and show them my wrath.

My baby is changed, nicely too - there's no mess, my daddy patterns are strong and can handle a whole adventuring party's delivery of baby poo without flinching or hesitation.

But Now I need to talk to the fuckers in the kitchen and have this out.

...

I'm not sure what I would have said when I got to the kitchen, I know I was pretty steamed... but somewhere in the process of navigating the carpeted stairs in my socks, my body woke me up enough in self preservation that I was able to view reality a little clearer, and I did *not* yell at anyone for selfishly having their epic medieval battles in my son's diapers, nor did I find the arcane high level wizard who obviously placed the whole explosive situation there with his magic...

No, I just handed my wife the baby and then went to write this down.

Cause I thought you'd enjoy it.

And you should be warned.

No gaming in my son's diapers.

I. Will. Not. Have. IT.

That is all.
( Allisade would love to hear from you, Thu 21 Jul 2011, 19:47, 10 replies)

Ah this my element now
I meant into my element
That's right, right?
(mmmm curry doesn't really understand this sig lark, Thu 21 Jul 2011, 19:33, Reply)

Work, the other day
"MatJ, see these 2.5m units? We don't need them any more, but I want the metal out of them. Get cracking"

Every single time for over a day I put the spanner in my pocket, I forgot where it was. I spent longer hunting for that bloody spanner than I did using it.
( MatJ LOOK, Thu 21 Jul 2011, 19:24, Reply)

I drove for 7 hours from Manchester to Kent...
and cannot remember even leaving Manchester. Only recollection was about 10 miles from home. I know I was stuck in traffic on a motorway but which one still eludes me.

That's 275 miles of not paying attention. Scares just to think of it. Got very cautious for months after when driving anywhere.
( NooShmoo It's a fantazmagorical pile of ultra bollocks, Thu 21 Jul 2011, 19:19, 2 replies)

F.A.S.T
I tend to put my glasses/book etc under the pillow next to mine. Woke up one morning, put my glasses on, went to the bathroom. Felt a bit odd. Things were sort of out of focus.. Went downstairs to put the kettle on, felt odder... Realised I was having some sort of visual disturbance which scared me shitless, frankly. I thought I'd had some sort of mini-stroke.
Was about to ring my Mum when I realised that one of the lenses had fallen out of my glasses while they were under my pillow.
( Sallyrsm, Thu 21 Jul 2011, 19:18, 3 replies)

A few years back I suffered a panic attack
and it was one of the strangest things I've ever experienced.

I was quite happily shopping in the supermarket and I noticed one of the security guards watching me. Five minutes later, I saw him watching me again. I got to the checkout and the cashier was staring at me as I approached. I paid for my shopping and left, feeling a bit discomforted.

As I walked through the precinct, a group of people were laughing and sharing a joke... while looking at me. The people sitting outside the coffee shop were all looking at me. Everyone everywhere was looking at me.

It's just one of those things, I thought. They just happen to be looking or glancing in my direction at that moment, I'm only spotting it because I'm looking out for it.

It didn't help. My heart started pounding, I started to feel light headed and nauseous. To top it all off, I started feeling claustrophobic and wanted to lash out at anyone who came too close.

In the end, I dropped my shopping and ran to a nearby graveyard, where I threw up in a corner and sat shivering behind a tree where I couldn't see anyone.

The worst thing was, I knew it was irrational and just couldn't help myself.
(Unit, Thu 21 Jul 2011, 19:15, 4 replies)

Doh!
I generally start Monday morning by pouring hot coffee on my cereal. I then brush my teeth with pile cream followed by getting into the car and driving to work, where I arrive to discover that it is a bank holiday. I go home to find the milk on the step and mail on the hall floor. I carefully put the mail in the fridge and the milk on the kitchen table. I then open the laptop and send a hilarious email to my drinking buddy about how dumb I've been and inadvertently cc my boss.

(All these have happened... just not on the same day)
( notoolsovernight you're all luvvly an' 'orrible, Thu 21 Jul 2011, 19:12, Reply)

I remember sitting with my mum watching the Clapham train disaster on the news.
I was convinced the reporter was telling everyone it was my fault in a code everyone but me could understand.

I used to hate that fucking code. Sometimes it was there just in sounds; it didn't even need a voice.

I haven't heard it for over a decade now. Which is nice.
( The Awful Puppy Bakery is still bored, Thu 21 Jul 2011, 19:10, Reply)

I lost my cock
After a few beers I happily headed off to the toilets for a piss only to discover that I couldn't find my cock. I knew where I last had it but it wasn't there. After some frantic pant scrabbling I realised I'd put my pants on back to front. Having to hook my cock over the back/front of my pants had me giggling like a loon in a gents urinal ahhh glory days.
( spingers, Thu 21 Jul 2011, 18:34, 2 replies)

Very nearly resulted in paperwork...
By way of background at the point this happened I had three sons at home one of whom had hay fever (aged 3) and one who was on medication for a heart problem (episodes of subventricular tachycardia).

One day I was dispatched by SWMBO to dose youngest child with 10 ml of his hayfever medicine (ceterizine). As I was drawing up the drug into a syringe and about to dose him my wife came into the room and asked, in a very pointed tone, "Do you really want to give him that?". I replied with words to the effect of "Of course I do, you told me to do it". I was asked again if I should be dosing the child.

SWMBO then asked me to look at the colour of the medicine. It was only after a number of very unsubtle hints that I realised that I was about to dose a 3 year with approximately 10 time the dose of the 6 year old's digoxin which would have a very good chance of stopping the child's heart which, I fear, would have led to an unpleasant bout of paperwork.
(ferretygubbins, Thu 21 Jul 2011, 18:26, Reply)

I didn't lose it 'til I was 19.
And it was prom night, and she wasn't my prom date.
(CactusZack Shaved his coin purse on, Thu 21 Jul 2011, 18:12, 1 reply)

On more than one occasion, I have found myself doing the following
Very nearly putting my dirty clothes into the toilet instead of the hamper.

Trying to open the front door to my house with my car key fob.

Answering the phone at home with the name of the company I work for... and when calling somebody trying to leave an answerphone message when someone has blatantly just picked up the phone in person.

Catching the bus home, only to remember that I drove to work that day.

I really do think I'm starting to go a bit haywire.
(Captain Skippy pooed in a bag and left it on your doorstep, Thu 21 Jul 2011, 17:59, 4 replies)

Don't get stoned in your lunch break.
I used to work in a tiny freight forwarding office on Hull docks - just me, another clerk, the secretary and our boss in one room. For some reason we were given an hour and a half for lunch, something I always damn well made sure I enjoyed to the fullest. On one such occasion I went home and found my doley mate rolling (as usual) a massive spliff. I knew I shouldn't have but the job was so frigging boring that day I decided it wouldn't hurt to partake, and consequently got far more stoned than I'd imagined I would - very stoned indeed in fact. I spent the journey back to the office attempting to mentally prepare myself for the afternoon ahead and on arrival had reached the conclusion that acting as normally as possible would be the best approach, and so, with a deep breath, confidently strode through the office door...

...and kicked the waste paper basket (with not inconsiderable force) horizontally across the room where it bounced off the opposite wall, scattering its contents in the process. In some kind of attempt to make light of what had just happened I turned to my boss and said, with all the dignity I could muster...

"Oops, big food!"
(Haywood Manley, Thu 21 Jul 2011, 17:48, 4 replies)

Fuck you Sarsons!
No matter how many times I buy a bottle of this vinegar i NEVER remember to check if it has a "slow pour" cap, the amount of times my chips have looked like little boats in a brown lake of vinegar escapes me. But the last time really takes the biscuit, after one of the aforementioned mishaps (poured half the bottle of vinegar over my dinner) i decided, as it didnt have a slow cap, i would puncture a hole in the lid to create the same effect. Worked too, until two days later when i unscrewed the lid and poured the rest of the bottle over my fish and chips! :(
(Pectacular Almost spectacular...but somethings missing!, Thu 21 Jul 2011, 17:05, 3 replies)