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This is a question It's Not What It Looks Like!

Cawl wrote two years ago, "People seem to have a knack for walking in at just the wrong time:
"Well, my clothes got wet, so did his... Yes, officer, huddling together to conserve body heat... Yes officer, he's five... No Officer... I'm not his Dad."

What have you done that, in retrospect, you'd really rather nobody had seen, mostly as things just get worse the more you try to explain it?

(, Thu 9 Dec 2010, 21:56)
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I'm more concerned with what it must have felt like
During my Uni days we had various crap "entertainment" evenings down the Union, only one of which really sticks in my mind. It was one of those events when many factors combine and produce a moment of absolute magic, if magic can be indelibly seared onto the retinas of those who witnessed it.

So this one night we had a hypnotist. I've never really investigated the science, or whatever, behind this, and have no idea whether it's all a bunch of hocus-pocus or whether people really can be lulled into a semi-conscious state and encouraged to act abnormally by a stranger with a microphone. Luckily, this being a student night, there was enough alcohol sloshing about to ensure such activities would probably go off without a hitch anyway. But this time, on a stage.

The poor bloke trying to entertain a load of half-cut middle-class dickheads with a ludicrous sense of entitlement, mostly called Ollie and Marianka an' that, was having a particularly hard time of it because the night coincided with one of the Rugby team's many, many socials. Eventually he gets tired of the abuse and invites them to come up on stage and be hypnotised. Much macho posturing and bullshit bravado later, he has seven hulking volunteers on stage, all keen to prove that they were so hard as to be unhynotisable, which is totally a word.

There was a glint in the conjurer's eye as he sat them all down and put them under. Those of us who thought the Rugby team were mostly pricks (ie, everyone in the room who wasn't on the Rubgy team) were thoroughly looking forward to seeing what humiliation they'd be subjected to. We got more than we bargained for. But not as much as the hypnotist.

Once the lumbering dullards were drooping in their chairs, the practioner of stage magic told them "you will obey my next command TO THE LETTER..." turning to the crowd to flash an evil grin, he rounded on his victims with a flourish.

A little too much of a flourish. He tripped over the microphone cable, and as he hit the deck he cried out "Fuck me!"

What happened next will haunt me forever
(, Fri 10 Dec 2010, 9:53, 9 replies)
Nicely done.
(, Fri 10 Dec 2010, 10:36, closed)
Oh excellent. sir
*uses special reinforced mouse for occasions when clicking needs to be extra hard.
(, Fri 10 Dec 2010, 11:07, closed)
You can't hypnotise a drunk.
I do not why I feel compelled to point out this piece of information, but it is strangely true.
(, Fri 10 Dec 2010, 12:14, closed)
fuck's sake.
fancy a christmas beer next week when i'm back from lapland?
(, Fri 10 Dec 2010, 12:57, closed)
Fucking show off
Also, yes mate. Wednesday is definitely out for me, I'll have to get back to you on the rest once I've sorted some dance practice
(, Fri 10 Dec 2010, 12:58, closed)
do it!
i've gazzed you my mobile number.

i was going to put it here, but then i thought!
(, Fri 10 Dec 2010, 13:47, closed)
My sensible half denies that this is true...
but it's wonderfully told, and has had me giggling like... um... [insert simile here].

*clicks heartily*
(, Fri 10 Dec 2010, 13:58, closed)
hello there.
back from the protests, you lefty softy?

how's tricks?
(, Fri 10 Dec 2010, 14:08, closed)
All good, thanks!
I'm a bit gutted that I couldn't make the protest yesterday: I had to settle for a contribution to the students' travel fund.

You well?
(, Fri 10 Dec 2010, 15:10, closed)

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