SCORE!
Was walking back from football training when I saw my whore of an ex-gf strolling along with some of her skanky chums. Without even really thinking about it I gave the ball a real punt in their direction ( I recall even cackling to myself as it left my foot), then as it flew through the air realised it was a bit of a childish thing to do, so countered this by hiding behind a bush.

It walloped her in the back of the head and spilt her pepsi all over her clown-caked face. The ball ricocheted off her noggin over a garden fence and was nowhere to be seen, they looked around in confusion then after a minute carried on walking. I was about 19 at the time and it's probably one of the most immature things I've ever done, but it still makes me laugh.
( Regger, Fri 28 Jan 2011, 16:58, 4 replies)

Woo Woo!
So, I was 10 years and getting curious about my ever changing body. One day after having a bath I was stood naked in front of my bedroom mirror and my curiosity turned its attention to my bum hole. Being much more flexible back in those days I managed to contort myself into a position whereby I was stood, bent over double with my head between my legs examining my starfish in the mirror. At the very moment I parted my arse cheeks to get a more in depth look I heard a very loud and very appreciative, “WOO WOO!!!” shout coming from behind me.

I was horrified to realise that someone had entered my room without knocking and had now caught me in this very compromising position with no excuse ready. I sprang bolt upright, face flushed from embarrassment and heart pounding with fear as I scanned the room for my brother (embarrassing, but could laugh it off), my sister (mortifying as she would laugh it off with her friends), or my mother (Please God, just don’t do THAT to me) and there was no one to be seen. I quickly identified the source of the excitable “WOO WOO!!!” noise. It was actually my tape player jauntily playing the intro to Bad Boys by Wham! My cassette player was doing that thing where one side finishes and the tape trundles on silently to the end and then reverses sides and starts playing the other side automatically.

I laughed so hard that my brother actually came in to see what was going on and stupidly I recounted the whole lurid affair just utterly relieved that no one had actually caught me in the act. He still teases me relentlessly to this day for listening to Wham!
(Kintandi all lower case, Fri 28 Jan 2011, 16:37, 4 replies)

In which I panic about Facebook
This only happened last Wednesday and is still making me cringe at the thought of what might have happened.

I was home alone, so like every bloke does in that situation, and rolled my dice. As I was about to throw a double-six, I hit upon a cracking idea. I grabbed my phone, started the camera and filmed the happy ending with the intention of emailing it to Mrs Sandettie for her viewing pleasure when she went on her break at work and checked her phone. The plan being that she'd see it, get the hint and then later that evening treat me to ten minutes peace and quiet.

I put my camera down and then realised I was without cloth or tissue. It then hit me. Earlier on I was messing about with the settings on my phone, and there was a feature whereby when I took a picture, it would upload it to Facebook. I couldn't remember if I had disabled the feature. Nor could I think if it only applied to pictures or it would do video as well.

Panic set in. Every second I sat there, my phone could be streaming data up to the Facebook servers before displaying it on my Wall for everyone to see me spilling Aphrodite's evostick. I opened up the gallery, located the video and deleted it.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!!!

I stood up, and my jeans slid down my leg, I hoisted them up enough to wedge them against my hips so they wouldn't slide back down, and I shuffled through to the hallway where the broadband router was plugged in, my rapidly deflating member still drooling as I went, all the while balancing a small amount of man-goo on the clenched fist. Passing through the kitchen, I grabbed the tea-towel and wiped my hand before casting it onto the floor.

I got to the router and switched it off. Hoping that
a: I'd cut off the connection so any upload would fail and
b: Nobody came to the front door.

I fastened my jeans properly and went back through to retrieve my phone. As I turned to go back, I heard the high-pitched squeal of our front gate being opened. Someone was coming, I glanced back and saw no one. It was next door's gate. My relief was short-lived however.

I picked my phone up to notice that the little wireless symbol had disappeared from the display and had been replaced with '3G'.

"ARRGGHHH!!" my brain shrieked. The crafty twat had sidestepped me, reconnected and was still uploading. I went to shut the phone down. This brings up a small menu. With my hands trembling with nerves I pressed silent mode by mistake. It took a good seconds to bring that menu up again and I pressed shutdown. Had I been quick enough?

I sat down and opened Facebook to check. If it was there, I could remove it quickly before anybody had a chance to see it.

"Problem loading page. Server not found. etc etc".

What?? I clicked the Try Again button. Nothing. Then I realised, the router was off. Oh christ. I picked up my phone and turned it back on. My phone takes a fucking century to start up. Well 30 seconds anyway. "Fuck this" I thought, and ran through to the hallway again and turned on the router. I went and sat back down.
The computer was still fannying about trying to get a connection but my phone was back on. I opened the Facebook App and checked. Nothing there.

Finally I brought up the site on the computer and yes, there was nothing there. I collapsed back in overwhelming relief. But I will still unsure. I sat there for almost an hour, occasionally pressing F5 to see if anything changed.

Now I was damn glad nobody saw me.

That night in bed, I related the story to my wife who just called me a 'scruffy get' and then burst out laughing.
( sandettie light vessel automatic New Twitter - @bollocksreally, Fri 28 Jan 2011, 16:28, 8 replies)

This time I'll get away with it
When in a supermarket I'm in charge of the trolley. When I go down an aisle (stop sniggering at the back) with no-one in it I always pick up a bit of speed, balance my weight on the handlebar whilst doing a slow motion running effect with my legs and singing the Chariots of Fire theme.
I always assume no-one has noticed but once the trolley slows down and I revert back to walking in the normal style I invariably look round to see someone staring at me like I'm special needs.
I never learn though and keep doing it.
I'll be 35 next month
(TitanLX, Fri 28 Jan 2011, 16:15, 9 replies)

The shame...
Many years ago in an excellent South Indian restaurant in Drummond Street, I had just tucked into my masala dosa, when I felt the urge to pee. I took myself up the stairs, entered the gents, and unzipped over the nearer of the two urinals. Midway through my flow, a businessman type came in, looked at me with utter disdain, and made his way over to the other urinal. I returned his stare coolly, until he looked away, unable to withstand my withering gaze. Then, flushed with my petty triumph, I finished up and looked for the sink to wash to my hands – only there didn’t seem to be one.

It was at this point I realised that the urinal I had been pissing into was altogether wider and rounder than is normal. It also had taps. And a plug.

Oh bugger!

I did what any super-suave superstar would do – ran downstairs, paid the bill and fled into the street. I haven’t been back
( MacCruiskeen, Fri 28 Jan 2011, 16:02, 3 replies)

No one sees me at work.
Signed,

Father Christmas.
( chickenlady b3ta's very own Elizabeth Taylor, Fri 28 Jan 2011, 15:58, Reply)

Geocaching
Oh it so really funny. HAHAHA!
( krang, Fri 28 Jan 2011, 15:50, 3 replies)

It happened one night
Watching some cheesy action movie. Commando I think. Rambo, maybe - too pissed to really remember. During an ad-break, I went to kitchen to get more beer and make myself a sandwich, and - inspired by the Austrian Oak (or Steroid Sly, whoever it was) - I started waving the kitchen knife around like it was a big special forces combat knife.

I decided to practice my knife throwing, and had a couple of goes. Being pissed, it landed flat side down a couple of times, but on about the sixth go it flew straight as an arrow and embedded itself in the wood of the kitchen steps - YES!!

Elated at my ninja skills(!), I grabbed at the knife to have another go. Unfortunately, I reached out a bit too far, missing the handle and grabbing the blade. Being a kitchen knife, it was sharp, so left a nice clean slice right in the crook of the first knuckle on my right index finger. Ouch. Suddenly, I became more sober.

The cut was clean, so even though it was in an awkard place (you try keeping your index finger crooked at exactly the right angle for a cut made at that same angle to heal neatly) it healed quite quickly.

I imagine I'd have felt a lot worse about it had my lodger been in that night. Next time he was, as far as he was concerned, I'd cut my finger while doing the washing up, rather than in a pissed-up reenactment of musclebound action capers.
( shinyshinyscalp less a man, more a way of life, Fri 28 Jan 2011, 14:56, 1 reply)

...when I put the pizza box and sock in that Dutch chap's flat.

(Tugnut Ex of this parish, Fri 28 Jan 2011, 14:37, 4 replies)

Pretty Fly For A White Guy
I once went on a paragliding day, with a group from work. At first I found it rather tricky to get the glider up and facing the right way to run and take off. But on my 3rd* attempt it all came together, and for the first time in my life I was actually flying!

Look at the ground fall away! Look how small those badger holes seem! Feel the air rushing past me! Wow this is so amazing that I've completely forgotten to adjust my position for landing! Look how close the ground is now! Look how sloppy the cow-pats that I'm sliding through nose first like a shitty snow-plow are!

When all was still, the wing had fluttered to the ground and the build-up of shit had florped off my forehead with a wet splushing noise, I thought, hm, I hope no-one noticed that. I looked up to find a semi-circle formed of everyone else, pointing and laughing.

I didn't take up paragliding, strangely.

* Probably more like 53rd
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Fri 28 Jan 2011, 14:37, 2 replies)

Sorry, another pea...
Late one July night when I was about 16, I left my mate's house who lived in a small satellite village of Hull and set off on my bike, but rather then go straight home, I took a detour and went down a dark lane and stopped near a gap in a hedge. I wheeled my bike behind the hedge and stripped off. For no reason whatsoever, I wanted to know what it felt like to be naked out of doors. But I wasn't going to join a nudist camp as I didn't want people seeing me naked, so I wanted to do it out of sight of prying eyes.

It's a weird feeling, even relaxing with a light breeze giving my crutch, genitals and buttocks an airing, in the dark with the glowing street-lights of Hull a few miles away.

I strode about a bit enjoying the exhilarating freedom with a lazy semi flopping about as it did feel quite rude, but not that rude. But then I froze. I heard an engine and saw a couple of headlights up the lane. Fuckity Fuckity fuck!

My clothes were on my bike which was lying on the ground hidden by the hedge. They were a good 20 yards away and I realised that the car would pass by before I could get to the bike, get dressed and pretend I'd stopped for a slash. I ducked down and waiting for the car to pass. It didn't pass. It slowed down and stopped at the other side of the hedge about 5 yards further up from me. With the engine still running, I heard a car door open and someone getting out.

fuckshitfuckshitfuckshitfuckshit!. If they spot me or my bike through the hedge, they're going to investigate. Surely they could hear my heart pounding, to me it sounded like someone trying to break into a kettle-drum with a mallet. I didn't dare move. To make matters worse, long grass was brushing against my buttocks and something was fluttering about near my right ear - a moth of sorts I think. I tried to waft it away but in doing so, I lost balance and tipped backwards. I managed to stop myself by putting my hands behind me. Did he hear me? I kept as still as possible, in a ridiculous crab-like posture, holding my rear up off the long grass for fear of ticks latching on and feeding on my blood. I must've looked like someone doing a performance art show, entitled "sausage on crooked coffee-table in starlight"

I struggled to wring out my brain for any plausible excuse. I had three stories:-

The truth
I was drunk
I was a werewolf who had just changed back to a human again.

Notwithstanding the lack of alcohol on my breath and that there was only at best only a half-moon, the truth, no matter how cripplingly embarrassing, would have to be my excuse.

I heard a zip and a splashing sound. It was a bloke stopping for a piss. He was taking forever. At least three hours. Well it seemed like that, it was more like 20 seconds. Then I heard a female voice.

"Hurry up Steve for fuck's sake. My dad'll kill me if I'm not in for 12"
"I can't piss any faster, christ stop fretting will yer. Anyway my tubes are still full of spunk" he retorted.
She giggled, "I didn't hear you complain at the time."
"I didn't see you offer to suck the remnants out so I could piss faster"
"Fuck off." she suggested.

He finished, zipped up and wandered away. He got back in his car and drove off.
'Thank fuck that they came from that end of the lane' I thought. Had they have been going the other way, the headlights would have more than likely picked out my bike lying on the ground behind the hedge.

As soon as they were gone, I hot-footed it to my bike, got dressed faster than I ever had before and biked home rather swiftly.
( sandettie light vessel automatic New Twitter - @bollocksreally, Fri 28 Jan 2011, 13:16, 1 reply)

Being silly
A couple of months back, I opened up Google Earth, entered an address and clicked 'search'. As it zoomed in to the location, I started flailing my arms about and going 'aarrgghhh!' as if I was plummeting to Earth. Luckily nobody was about.

But I've taken to doing it every time, and it's only a matter of time before Mrs Sandettie or one of the kids sees me.
( sandettie light vessel automatic New Twitter - @bollocksreally, Fri 28 Jan 2011, 12:38, 5 replies)

As a teenager, you have to find ways to keep your sexual relationship with yourself fresh
So i discovered that a piece of camping mat, folded over and placed between two pillows at the edge of a bed made a convincing (to the uninitiated) lady-hole.

My room was pretty high up and in the countryside, and there was nothing to be seen outside my windows other than a distant hillside populated by a bull and a herd of cows (this bull was reputedly responsible for killing a farmer, but i digress). No-one went there, and as such i would leave the curtains open without fear of being spotted.

So, during one of my hot camping mat sessions, i happened to glance round and see the mother of my hot teenage neighbour walking her dog upon the hill (which apparently had been scourged of bovines) and looking in through my window with an amused expression on her face as i pumped pillows, arse bared. I should have waved, winked and carried on, but being a teenager i blushed, dived under a duvet and sweated for quite some time before daring to show my face.

Needless to say i did not try courting the neighbour.
( 100% Cock Raw like carrots., Fri 28 Jan 2011, 12:26, Reply)

This winter
while walking down the road I stepped on a big patch of ice. My legs started wheeling just like Shaggy's in Scooby Doo before he runs away, and my arms were waving around like a palm tree in a hurricane. I slipped and skidded and turned completely round, almost fell over, and recovered myself. Then my feet got back onto non-slippy ground and I rapidly came to a halt, again almost falling flat on my face but managing to stay upright with a feat of gymnastics worthy of the olympics. My emotions went from scared of falling, to pride at not falling to embarassed in case anyone was watching.
(Smale is stuffed, Fri 28 Jan 2011, 12:22, Reply)

I helped out some friends on Max Power by standing in on a feature about busting doggers
For legal reasons they couldn't use photos of actual dogging couples, so I ended up nekkid in a car with a rather cute model. Then had to chase a group of them out of a car park. I got paid two crates of beer.

Apparently what little shame I have can be over-ruled by the promise of free alcohol. I think I'm ok with that...
(Miraclefish How appropriate, you fight like a cow, Fri 28 Jan 2011, 12:09, 17 replies)

Attempted wank atop a hill
....In the Dales with a group of mates for a walking / boozing weekend....

One morning we decided upon a local morning walk, including a brief scramble up a steep hill to partake in impressive countryside viewage. About half-way into the scramble I realised that I was storming into an imaginery hill-climbing lead. Then, for no reason that I have yet fathomed, I resolved to re-double my efforts in order to allow sufficient time for a cheeky wank on the top....

It was all going to plan - I had reached the summit already whilst everyone else was slowly struggling to the mid-way point. Plenty of time.

I found myself a nice little alcove in the rock which was covered with bright purple heather. The views were fabulous so it was all lined up for a terrific session of self-abuse.

Alas, the wind picked up - a cold, piercing wind. I could barely get a semi and by gosh - just look at that view! It was never going to work to be honest, so I zipped it back up at precisely the instant that my comrades appeared. Just in the nick of time, as they say.

Oh well. There's always another time
(Mean Mad Mutski, Fri 28 Jan 2011, 11:48, Reply)

River Escapades
Back in 2006 I was doing a field ecology project for Cabi in Devon & Cornwall. I was working on plants by rivers for a period of 10 weeks. During this time, on a particular location, there were lots of nettles growing (larger every visit) by the route I took to the site where my experiments were.

I know, I’ll walk along the river further down and bypass all the shitty stinging nettles!

Walking along the shallow river in my wellies with my huge rucksack (with all my notes, samples, GPS and other gear) I come to a large opening with lots of swirling water. I thought for a second and chose (what I thought to be the best route) a path along the edge. Carefully walking through the water (up to my knee height) I stepped on a low tree branch which was just over the water.

SNAAAPPP!

Up to my fucking neck in water! I just about managed to lift my bag over my head in time to save the contents. I had a nice walk back to the car, soaking wet and covered in stings from the nettles. My car also stank of river water. What a dumbass!

On another note, I did something very similar to this last year. That time it involved a river and a deep area of mud (which didn't look deep).
(RJWEcology is just sharpening his axe on, Fri 28 Jan 2011, 11:38, Reply)

XXX
I made a porno once, proper film, well known director, got paid, the women I were "acting" with were "amateurs", I was going to tell all my mates about it once I'd filmed it. Cometh the day , cometh the ropiest looking pair of women I'd seen, not even Richard Keys would smash them, but as I was being paid, I gritted my teeth and got on with it. I've kept quiet about it amongst my friends and despite it being for sale in my local porno store, no-one I know has ever seen it
(countwilfredthehairy i wasn't born to live, Fri 28 Jan 2011, 11:29, 6 replies)

I done a poo.

(nappy rash, Fri 28 Jan 2011, 11:28, Reply)

One in the eye
It was a barbeque at ours a few years ago. When you are the parents of (at the time) 10 and 7 year olds, you take these opportunities to gather with other parents with children of a similar age. The kids go and brain themselves on the trampoline and the grown ups sit in the garden and slowly drink themselves silly.

A bit later on food is prepared. The kids all eat first coz the adults are still happy drinking. And inevitably the kids want drinks with their food.

Thus I find myself dispatched to the kitchen to retrive lemonade. And there on the worktop I find two 2-litre plastic bottles. These are of the 2-pack variety that supermarkets sometimes do where the sleeve encompasses both bottles.

Also in the kitchen - out of reach of small hands - was a large kitchen knife. Aha, thinks me - a dashing way to split the bottles. So I snatch up the knife, and in an over-elaborate arc bring it swiftly down to quckly and neatly separate the two plastic bottles.

Except of course, I had been exuberantly partaking of the aforementioned alcohol. The knife pierces the right-hand bottle dead-centre about an inch below the lid. And a small, but incredibly precise jet of lemonade squirts out of the hole and hits me exactly in my right eye.

No one saw this.
(PunkBubble Lady, I couldn't take another 67 of those..., Fri 28 Jan 2011, 11:19, 3 replies)

The bestest phonesex ever
Back in uni I was a bit of a male slut, one afternoon I was studying away to the usual porno and I got a text message. "Hey it's Katie, how are you? You free for some phone fun?", despite not remembering meeting or giving my number to anyone called Katie I responded with something pretty sordid. The texts went back and forth getting more and more explicit, until I sent something like "who's your Daddy?", the response "my Dad's dead". I text back apologising, she was fine with it. The sexy texts continued, until the inevitable "Do you fancy some phonesex?", "Sure I'll call you in Flash...". The phone rang, I answered cock in hand to "Huuuuuuuuu" from my flatmate Flash who was upstairs with his new phone.
This was in the early 2000s and he has told this story to every girl I've dated since.
I did get him back by shouting his mum's name into a vent that led to his room while he was shagging some rough girl from college.
Good times.
(Riggleberry, Fri 28 Jan 2011, 11:19, 1 reply)

I was messing around with a golf-ball retriever once
pretending it was a double-ended lightsabre
(TheManWithThePlan cussed your mum on, Fri 28 Jan 2011, 11:17, 2 replies)

Only yesterday...
..I was running late for work and darting around the house trying to get ready. I got to the bottom of the stairs, and quickly patted my pockets, 'phone, keys, wallet, go'...

I have a door leading to the porch, and through the porch, the front door. Running to to first door, I pulled the handle down and pulled it towards me quickly and went to step through. As I'd pulled it so hard and tried to get out so quickly, the door opened inwards towards me, bounced off the inside of my left foot, which was still behind said door, and then in turn rebounded against the side of my head. Not content with this, the door then hit my foot again, and as I turned to look at what the fuck had just happened, caught me on the forehead.

Luckily, I was on my own.
(Monkey the Chicken Twitter: death_stairs, Fri 28 Jan 2011, 11:12, 1 reply)

I once walked across Millpool range during live fire
I was looking for spent casings to take home with me. I'm glad no-one saw me for two reasons. 1. I wasn't actually shot as I heard the bangs and dove in to the nearest trench. 2. My dad was one of the shooters and he would have beaten the shit out of me if he caught me.
( Peej, Fri 28 Jan 2011, 10:50, Reply)

As a young paperboy...
...at the tender age of 13, I was enthralled by the joys of ogling the page 3 models in The Sun, a newspaper I delivered a fair few of on my route. My route involved cycling around a number of country roads, with a couple of spots having houses a good mile inbetween.

Needless to say, one Saturday morning at approx. 6:30am, I had a hand shandy with said jazz page balanced across my handlebars. I'm very glad none of the fancy country gentlemen types I was delivering their Times to saw me having a 10mph speed wank.

Length? Well, I was only 13, and it was cold outside...
(Brighton RAWK at the tone, the time will be:, Fri 28 Jan 2011, 10:47, 4 replies)

Premature ejaculation during self abuse is embarassing
Despite no one seeing you.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 28 Jan 2011, 10:23, 6 replies)

In a bed room...far far far...away.
I was having a wank while juxtaposed between carnal pleasure and the thought of the myriad of frivolous tasks that required my attention later in the day.It was in this perilous state that I noticed that the trap door to the attic was ajar.Fortunately ceiling cat wasn't there....watching me masturbate...
(The Archduke of South London I'm in your Girlfriend eating her organs, Fri 28 Jan 2011, 10:18, Reply)