Not a great story
But it's not a great question, so meh.

Me and my mate organised a night out a few months back. Nobody else turned up other than us, but we thought 'sod it' and went out regardless. We got royally pissed and stumbled around town for a while, singing Iron Maiden songs loudly and badly in graveyards and such, generally being drunken cunts. We came across a bunch of chavs in a park, we could only make them out vaguely in the dark, but who else hangs around in groups in a park in the dead of night? They didn't even spot us. Well, not until we drew attention to ourselves. Thinking ourselves incredibly witty, we put on our best Devvo accents and hurled our best chav lines at them, "ya fuckin' billend!" and such. They soon tired of this and got up to look for us. Figuring they didn't know where we were, we dropped flat to the floor and were completely silent. Well, we thought we were silent, but we were patently obvious because they headed straight for us. Upon realising this, I yelled "leg it" at my mate and we fled the scene with both of us screaming like big girls. They chased for some distance, but in the centre of town we somehow managed to mingle with another group of chavs and lost them.

There are plans for something along similar lines tomorrow night and I'm pretty sure it won't go nearly as well.
(Icefox2k, Fri 11 Aug 2006, 23:56, Reply)

Whilst in America

I was in Atlanta about 10 years ago and I ran away from 7 black men who were after me. The chase only lasted about 10 seconds, but I was awarded an Olympic Gold medal and a new Commonwealth Record.
(Lt Columbo, Fri 11 Aug 2006, 23:14, Reply)

I think
I may run away from this week's QOTW
(wonderbrawl was pronounced dead on, Fri 11 Aug 2006, 22:26, Reply)

When I was about 12
I had a friend from school who lived on my estate (she was fairly inbred-looking and there were rumours she was sleeping with her younger brother. There still are, and she still is. We don't get on any more.) I was riding round my estate one day looking for water balloons, and stopped in front of her house. She came out, called me inside and I lost track of time. A couple of hours later my absolutely frantic mum phones her Deliverance mum, asking if she'd seen me. I got the bollocking of a lifetime for scaring my parents like that.

And a week later she did it all again when we went bike riding and stayed out a hell of a lot longer than we first said (again, her fault). I'm guessing she wanted to run away and I got the blame. Stupid hillbilly.
( Maladicta, Fri 11 Aug 2006, 22:05, Reply)

EXCITING STORY ABOUT RUNNING FROM THE PIGS!!!!!!


Well, not only fooling, but it is amusing...

My Cousins and I used to live in a small town in B.C. Canada(I am Canadian ...yay...)Late at night we would sneak out and do...get ready for it..MISTCHIF!!

On this particular evening we decided to switch 'For Sale' signs on people houses....look at us hard bastards go...

..until we see some flashing lights...and there was a rozzer..in his car looking at us...probably very amused. We stood there for a sec in the lights holding a sign, then we dropped it and bolted!

The cop was in his car so he just drove after us, we were sure were were going to be caught.

Now lately my cousins and I were reading this little book about 'How to be a Ninja'

We were 14 and geeky...so it was cool to us.
We would spend hour of fun in the yard hiding from each other using techniques from this book. Here is where this fact become relevent.

We bolted into someones yard. We had just enough time to use our "Super Stealthy Ninja Quiet As Mouse On Valume Hiding Technique!"

We learned from the book....why we did this I don't know...but we sat still using our martial arts genius and the copper pulls into the yard...and walks right past us.....We saw him go towards the door of the house.

It had worked!

As quick as we could we bolted the fuck out of there and ran ALL the way home.

ACE!

We also used it to hide from some drunk cowboy bully boys as well...worked again!

We also had this fun game we used to play called "Rodney" Where one of us would lay on the side of the road while the other 2 of us pretended to beat the living hell out of him with a plastic bat. When a car would stop to tell us off and save the victim, we would all run away laughing like idiots.

That was a stupid game, and Karma got me back 4 years later when a bunch of white hip hoppers beath the tar out of me. No one stopped to help.

Life....

No apologies for Length, Girth, or any other fucking thing!
(Nihlistic_Alchemist Brand the Herd with Fashion, Fri 11 Aug 2006, 20:31, Reply)

Trying to get a really good story...
Since the responses to last week's Royals question seemed a bit poor, I thought I'd have a dig around and see if I could find anything - y'know, have a listen to a couple of phone calls, a few voicemails, that type of thing.

Hoo boy, did that one get blown out of all proportion. I've lost my job, and there's talk about me being arrested.

Looks like the solution is just to run away. :-(
( shadyron, Fri 11 Aug 2006, 20:27, Reply)

My sister ran away from home when she was about four years old
She packed a toy suitcase full of toys and left. She got as far as the end of the road and stopped. She wasn't allowed to cross the road on her own.

Another time she "ran away" when she was about ten years old, my mum had the police out and everything. Eventually they found her in the shed.
( Jadeviper was still alive on, Fri 11 Aug 2006, 20:07, Reply)

I ran
away because Tehran is an awful place, with no hookers or booze.

She did not
(Suck it and Sea, Fri 11 Aug 2006, 19:50, Reply)

Thank You
I am running away from last weeks stupid QOTW.

We basically want dirt, sex and sleaze.

Sort it.

You know you want it - often, and sod the girth, they want the tongue - can it touch your nose? Saves on tissues...

Luv ya all x x x
(Suck it and Sea, Fri 11 Aug 2006, 19:45, Reply)

Oh oh yes
I threatened to run away when I was 10


When I ran to my bedroom to pack a bag, I got tired, but didn't want to sleep on my bed (which was a big hollow cabin bed with drawers) incase my parents found me and I had to admit defeat. So I pulled out the drawers, crawled inside the bed, pulled the drawers back in from inside, and fell asleep.

A few hours later I woke up, it was really dark and I couldn't move as my arms were numb. This meant I couldn't pull the drawers out. My crying woke my parents up, and it took about half an hour for them to realise where I was

I'm chlaustrophobic now :[
( Kittenpants, Fri 11 Aug 2006, 19:38, Reply)

Not me
My cousin once decided she was running away when she was 7, so she wrote a goodbye letter on the inside of the airing cupboard door

She got to her boyfriend's house 3 doors down

The note's still there
( Kittenpants, Fri 11 Aug 2006, 19:30, Reply)

They thought we we'd run away
There was a field about half a mile from home with geese in behind a fence and being 4 or 5 visiting them was the best thing ever.

Another family came round with their children, parents were too busy talking to take us out so we went by ourselves. Didn't get very far until all the grown ups found us wandering around not knowing where we were going. Got in quite a lit of trouble for it too.
( thistle, Fri 11 Aug 2006, 19:13, Reply)

My Friend Mr Brown

I know somebody who runs off to the coast on a regular basis, he's a piece of shit.
(Lt Columbo, Fri 11 Aug 2006, 18:39, Reply)

grew up as a hippy kid in australia
ran away with a couple of mates. hitched about 500k (300 miles?) to a forest logging protest. parents drove up to get us a week or so later after we had been spotted on the telly in front of bulldozers etc.

forest was called chaelundi if i remember rightly, they were logging the redwood cedars for 'yuppies porches'. police werent called or anything, as we all would regularly disappear for a few days anyways, and parents weer all fucking drugged up dropout wasters.
(Mildred is a slimy, double-crossing, no-good swindler, Fri 11 Aug 2006, 17:48, Reply)

Always be prepared...Not me but my sister
When my sister (now 27) was a nipper she decided to run away following one of her frequent disagreements with our mum. She was found some hours later in a neighbour's garage, somewhat disgruntled that the police hadn't been called.

In her wisdom she had packed 5 pairs of knickers, her dressing gown and her school tie.

Marvellous.
(Samara Morgan is a small blue thing, like a marble or an eye, Fri 11 Aug 2006, 17:46, Reply)

Whenever I go shopping with me mam
(which just to clarify is not often as I have moved out now and am married etc ie not a squarejock), I used to run away from her while she was talking mid-sentence. She'll carry on talking regardless until about 30 seconds later when she realises I'm standing about 30 yards away from her laughing.

This works much better than expected when you are in a busy area (ie somewhere like Woolworths) and another shopper happens to replace where you were standing. Cue the confused shopper looking at me mum like a fucking weirdo while I'm laughing at pointing from a distance.
( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Fri 11 Aug 2006, 17:38, Reply)

concrete train
in my playground at primary school we had a large, simplified concrete structure of a steam train, complete with a tunnel in place of the front cylinder. Two friends of mine hid in there at the end of break as we all went into class. Teachers searched everywhere and couldn't find them, the police were called, kids were asked had we seen them...
They turned up at one of their houses about three doors down from the school.
Our local police didn't see that coming. Gimps.
(niceandwarmandhot vive la résistance, Fri 11 Aug 2006, 17:24, Reply)

Pure Hull
for me as a kid was The Pink Windmill. There was just something about Rod Hull's crinkly old mashed up face, plus his irrational love of shoving his hand up an emu's poop chute each week, that would make me run away and hide until the show had finished.

This show also led to my current sexual fantasies which involve Grotbags, a lot of riding, and a tiny little cock going red raw. I did once get a girl to agree to do role play with me. She'd bought a firemans outfit for me to wear. I'd bought a green wig, green body paint, and a lovely little witches hat for her. It was when I started 'There's somebody at the door...There's somebody at the door' just as I was about to push my old man into her pink windmill that she ran away.
(Lt Columbo, Fri 11 Aug 2006, 17:09, Reply)

Run Away!
I worry about anyone that has never at least *thought* about running away from home.

My attempts started at age four or five but weren't that noticeable due to my mother not actually being there most of the time (and my dad overseas).

I did almost cause her to start a proper search once by falling asleep in the shoe cupboard for six hours.

She trumped that by leaving home next Christmas.

This might turn about to a depressing QOTW - not complaining either, it's just that the reasons some people leg it aren't really all that nice.
(Wascally Weasel now with 100% fewer jokes., Fri 11 Aug 2006, 16:57, Reply)

My little sister
threw my stuff out the window when i was about 8. so i hit her not very hard round the head. being the brat she is she ran down to tell my parents. i decided to cut my losses and run for it. Got cold (it was about 10 at night) so i walked round to my garage which is about the same size as my house but only has one story. it is pretty much a house in boxes, there are beds, wardrobes, clothes, pretty much everything. All i did was open the right boxes. about 10 mins after i had found the bed box and settled down i saw a spider. ran like hell back into the house. hid under a blanket on the sofa. i could hear everyone looking for me, then my mum goes 'get the phone, i'll call the police' the sofa was just in front of the phone. someone stood on me, i screamed. then, instead of telling them i had attempted to run away i said i had been sleeping there all the time. by sister got bollocked for worrying them :D
(Abel wants to see if that new thing works, Fri 11 Aug 2006, 16:42, Reply)

Nostril
Having just watched Superman Returns, me and some friends were discussing the possibility of Superman and Lois Lane really conceiving a child together. The debate got quite ugly, and I ended up naked. I argued against the possibility on grounds of genetic incompatibility rather than the "Lois couldn't withstand the ejaculatory impact" approach. I used the analogy that, just because a man has intercourse with a horse, it doesn't mean the horse will give birth to a man-pony. This fuelled the debate further, and before long I decided to leave for my own safety.

I was walking through the city centre, the moon smiling down on me, the cool summer night's breeze kissing my elbows, the day's cumulative warmth radiating upwards from the concrete and onto my underchin, when I heard a voice from down an alleyway.
"I say, over there!" came the voice. It was not the voice of a child, but rather that of a squeaky adult. I peered through the darkness. Nothing. I walked on a couple of steps.
"What ho!" came the voice again, agitated now. The voice had become shaky beneath it's own density, making me stop again. I daren't move any further.
"Hello?" I called back, but the only reply was my own echo. "Is somebody there?" I expected some countrified dandy to stagger out and offer me a swig from his bottle of port. Instead, there was a huge explosion, and a dark figure was propelled out of the alley, knocking me to the ground before landing on its feet and towering over me. There before me was the very creature that I had only moments earlier denied: a man-pony. But this man-pony was fully grown, and more of a man-stallion, or Stally-man, as he would later introduce himself as while I wept.

The fearsome yet well turned out beast treated me to a beautiful few bars on its clarinet, the likes of which made me retch with shame, before setting the instrument down on the warm concrete floor and straddling me. The saliva was warm and matted my chest hairs together.

We stayed there for hours, then Stally-man simply disappeared into the night. When I came to my senses, I found that one of my nostrils had gone, presumably taken by that great nasal thief of the night, Stally-man.

I couldn't return home after that, and fled through the city, where I now reside in the shadows.
(stusut79, Fri 11 Aug 2006, 16:34, Reply)

Quick exit
Shared house many years ago, defrosting icebox using sharp knife like you do. Stabbed coolant pipe cue massive cloud of white vapour hissing out at me.

Freaked & scarpered thinking it was ammonia (old fridge so quite possible) leaving mate shouting "what? what?" as I disappeared out the door.

Halfway down the stairs before guilt overcame flight response so went back up to sort it out.

Turned out it was CFC so we got nice tans, no lung death.
(Ronnie Spleen MMMMNEURRGH I AM A GAY SPAZ AND I LOVE IT UP MY BU, Fri 11 Aug 2006, 16:20, Reply)

Mr Nobody
The point is to generally fanny about and hopefully to amuse other b3tans with silliness and fun, so a good petty squabble about the first post is part of the general idea. Except this week when I only got second. So put yer toys back in yer pram and calm down, or I shall smite thee. Anyways..... When we were about 9 or so me and my mate decided that due to the dictatorial attitudes of our parents (they probably didn't buy us something we wanted there and then or told us to tidy up the utter shit holes that were our bedrooms or something) we had had enough, we were off. It was all well planned, we made a list and he would bring one half, I would bring the other, travel as light as poss. So Saturday comes and I get up early, pack my half and trundle round to my mates on my bike (our own wheels, see, we really thought this through) only to have the half hearted buffoon answer the door in his jim jams saying that he'd changed his mind coz bleeding Swap Shop or some such was on the telly and he didn't want to miss it. As he had been responsible for food I had no choice but to go home and sulk. I read in our local paper about 5 years ago that he'd got umpteen years inside for his part in hijacking a lorry full of chocolate, harsh justice I know, but hey, thwart my plans and the karma will get you.

Blah blah longth, grith, kokk.
(tinypod will never learn. Ever., Fri 11 Aug 2006, 16:20, Reply)

not me but
my sister has ran away a few times. the furthest she
has ever got is the bottom
of the street. she had this massive fit at my mum,
stormed out and took a barbie doll and
a bag of skittles with her.

my mum went looking for her and she was sat on the street
sign at the bottom of the street eating skittles and
shouting "i'm not coming home you can't make me!!"

this laster 5 minutes because when she ran out of skittles she
came home.

another time she just sat on the front door
step in the rain for 20 minutes and didn't
know we could see her through the window.

if we bring this up she threatens to do it again
(i eat crayons, Fri 11 Aug 2006, 15:57, Reply)

Still on the run
This is a stupidly long tale so the really dondensed version goes thus.

moved out of the family home, moved in with friends, drug honeymoon begins. Drug honeymoon ends with a shedload of debt, my mates thinking I'm gay (what I'd actually said was 'I think I'm bi) bit of a mental breakdown occurs (one parent being a raging alcoholic and the other one being proper snooker loopy did not help)

Crash at a friends house for the summer, his family help me put the bits and pieces of my life together and things slowly make more sense. They also pay for me to travel up to N Wales with my friend for a weekend party he was DJing at. Muchos fun had and the crew I met there invited me to a house party they were having in Leeds that oct.

October comes and I travel up with 100 nicker, toothbrush and one change of clothes and my limited common sense. Have greatest time of my life and decide not to return to London, instead squat in Barnsley for a month before finally getting a place in Leeds. There is no worse feeling than squatting in Barnsley people, trust me.

That was 4 years ago and it was the best decision of my life, starting from scratch and building a completely new life, being able to re create myself was amazing and not have any link to the shite which had affected me in London is shit hot. most people still dont know where I am which is a bonus, and I'm thankful.

My life up here spanks the shite out of my old one, so it goes to show that running away from your problems might just be the best idea you have
(luckymcdanger, Fri 11 Aug 2006, 15:45, Reply)

Three attempts
First when I was quite young, I'd had a right bollocking off the parents and decided that was enough. I grabbed a handful of cash off the sideboard when no one was looking and headed for the hills. I came back when I realised that I didn't even have enough money to buy the Power Rangers action figure I had wanted.

The second time was ever so slightly more successful. Same type of deal, money from the sideboard and leg it, but this time I had grabbed a bit more and had taken a bag of stuff with me. Me and some friends went down to the local Somerfield and stocked up on supplies, then trotted off up a mountain and lit a campfire, on which we brewed lukewarm tea in a plastic bottle. My uncle found us an hour or two later and sent us all home.

Third time I didn't even get out of the house. I had surreptitiously packed supplies I had been gathering for the past few nights and grabbed a sleeping bag. Not wanting to disturb my parents I decided I would leave via my bedroom window. I threw my sleeping bag and rucksack out, then proceeded to climb out onto the window ledge. Eventually I think I must have figured out that running away wouldn't be possible as two broken legs mean that any sort of running would be out of the question.

It was quite embarrasing strolling out the front door to collect my stuff and to have to walk back in past my father and explaining that I was planning on running away but had decided not to after all.

Bugger.
( shovelboy This is bad - Two minutes to Belgium, Fri 11 Aug 2006, 15:39, Reply)

I ran away...less than 5m...
One day, me and my mother had a small argument, and I declared that I was running away, so I go out the backdoor, and down the path and out the gate.

At this point I realised I had no shoes or socks on, and only a t-shirt and boxers on, so I went back in.

My mum, who had watched this out of the kitchen window said "Oh you're back! We've been so worried!"
( B.T., Fri 11 Aug 2006, 15:33, Reply)

Slowly
Our Tortoise - 'Trampas' - ran away often. Seriously. When the sun came out, you're talking 0.5-0.75mph. Couple of hours and he'd be on the other side of the village. People used to bring him back weeks later from miles away. He crossed a dual carriageway once. We couldnt work out how then we realised he probably just let the cars run over him. I dunno. Clever little fucker.

Found him one spring minus any flesh, just a shell. Rats got him. Should've run off.
( I have run out of coke is a little sweaty, Fri 11 Aug 2006, 15:29, Reply)