A mate of mine
once had his jaw in wires as his "friend" gave him a lift on his newly aquired motorbike and got thrown off when the driver started speeding away from a parked police car and plowed into the side of a Volvo. Funnily enough friend became ex-friend very quickly after that (and especially once he was healthy again, he beat the fuck out of him for putting him in that situation).

But anyhows, matey was in pain and was up and about, but he couldn't chew anything. His face closely resembled Hannibal Lector with the wire grill over his chin and jaw and he had wires sticking through various parts of his mouth. Every item of food he injested was via a straw and the painkillers were not a great help, so he took to drinking for a while.

I was working in a pub at the time so he was landed with that. He'd come down and sit by the bar for a bit while drinking beer through a straw. As he was a paying customer the landlady didn't mind. In fact she loved it. Mainly because everytime me mate laughed, it moved the wires in his jaw and hurt him like hell.

So she'd deliberately do stuff like make sandwiches and hold them in front of his face while demanding him to eat them otherwise he's barred. He'd make some noise like "Murrrrrghh!!!" and start to grin and slightly bleed too. Tickling him was funnier, and getting him to pull faces etc. In fact everytime she saw him she'd do something random and childish just to make him hurt. He'd end up hiding from her in different corners of the pub trying to avoid her but she'd end up spotting him and going in for the kill again.

Torturous cow, funny as feck to watch though.
( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Thu 24 Dec 2009, 16:46, Reply)

last?
?
(CactusZack Shaved his coin purse on, Thu 24 Dec 2009, 16:37, Reply)

Worst. Date. Ever.
Had arranged to go for a drink with this girl I worked with a few years back - I thought it would be good to catch up, and she was fairly attractive. She organised the venue - a restaurant with an upstairs lounge/bar and dimmed mood lighting. All very posh.

What she hadn't told me was that in the last 3 years her eyesight had diminished to the point where she had a real problem adjusting to transitions from light to dark etc, effectively causing her blindness for a few minutes at a time when entering/exiting buildings.

We found the bar and went inside. The waitress took our booking and asked us to "follow her". I led the way, following the waitress down a dark corridor to a set of stairs and went up. Halfway there I heard a terrific crashing sound and (as a typical bloke) carried on regardless.

Got to the top only to find we had lost my date somewhere along the way. Turns out she completely missed the corridor and had stumbled blindly into the main restaurant straight into some diner's table knocking their cutlery, drinks and food flying.
When she finally made it upstairs, she managed to sit down on a low table (rather than the soft chairs next to it). If that wasn't bad enough, she sat down on the table right where a small (lit) candle had been placed and shot up rapidly with her arse on fire.

Could have gone better I thought.
(Anders Last had a work LOL on, Thu 24 Dec 2009, 16:21, Reply)

last!
Perhaps?
(django0909, Thu 24 Dec 2009, 16:18, Reply)

puke
my 2 year old blew chunks all over himself and my wife. It was like a schadenfreude BOGOF.
(OTT, Thu 24 Dec 2009, 15:47, Reply)

The
other half has just slipped on the ice outside and gone arse over tit down the drive way.

I wish i'd recorded it... he did the whole wiggling arms like a demented penguin before he fell.
(stitched, Thu 24 Dec 2009, 15:45, Reply)

i like breasts

( broadsword now that's fresh, Thu 24 Dec 2009, 15:41, Reply)

me too, but I was actually last

(bblgoose, Thu 24 Dec 2009, 15:40, Reply)

That happened to me too

( Cheeses of Nazareth Where's Captain Kirk? www.whereiskirk.com, Thu 24 Dec 2009, 15:08, Reply)

I once pissed myself laughing because some thought they were getting last post on QOTW, then some cunt posted right after them.

( Amorous Badger NAKED BEA ARTHUR PHOTOS 4U, Thu 24 Dec 2009, 15:07, Reply)

Last
?
( Cheeses of Nazareth Where's Captain Kirk? www.whereiskirk.com, Thu 24 Dec 2009, 15:00, Reply)

Just last night, heading home...
... driving past a little park there were two happy parents and a happy kid on a sledge at the top of the slope. Happy Dad gave Happy Kid a push, the sledge set off, dug in, tipped the wee fella off, and he slid down the rest of the slope sitting in the same position on his backside.

I nearly had to park up until I stopped laughing.
(gordonjcp, Thu 24 Dec 2009, 14:05, Reply)

A
few years ago me and the then Msr. Dchurch were having a bad time of things - everything that could go wrong seemed to happen to us.
Anyway, we got over the worst of it (hospital visits, houses falling through, boilers bursting etc...) and decided to go away for the weekend to cheer ourselves up.
We decided upon the New Forest, simply because it was only a couple of hours away and we'd bothe been camping there as children. One fine sunny day, we decided to go cycling. We hadn't bought any bikes with us so we had to hire them.

When we got to the cycle hire place they had a couple of tandems for rent. We looked at each other and simulatanously thought "That looks like fun.", so we hired a tandem.
It was a little tricky at first, but we soon got the hang of it - the main problem was keeping in time with each other. After about 5 miles we came across a sty (sp), and we decided to stop and rest before carrying the tandem over the sty and carrying on.

As we sat on the adjoining fence having a drink, another couple came along, one seperate bikes. We got chatting to them, and it became apparent that they had hired bikes from the same place.
"We thought about getting a tandem," they said, "but we didn't think we'd be able to balance, so we opted for seperate bikes each".
"No," says I, "the balance part is no problem at all, in fact it's reall easy. Anyway, we'd better be off now."

The then Mrs D and I get on the tandem, both put a foot each on our respective pedals, and......weeeeeee.....flat on our sides in mud.

The couple who were there could be heard cycling away at speed whilst barely able to keep balance from pissing themselves so hard.*


Gits.



* I'd have done the same.
(dchurch bah, Thu 24 Dec 2009, 13:38, 1 reply)

Karma fairy
I've just spent the last week laughing at people unable to get their cars up the street past my house because they don't know how to drive in snow. Today I needed a push, which wasn't so bad, but then skidded on ice 20 metres from work, and was rear-ended by the following Audi who also lost control on the same spot.

The few people in the office are now calling me Colin McRae.
(Vice Admiral Sir Charles Cockbrush KCB MBE DSO, who is finding it increasingly difficult to log into b3ta.com wants to duck your aunt and kick your puppy, Thu 24 Dec 2009, 12:13, Reply)

Drunk people on crutches.
You feel dirty for laughing, but then again it is very funny
(xerophytic has no idea, Thu 24 Dec 2009, 11:47, 2 replies)

This morning the car park at my office is even more like an ice rink than ever
I got from the road to the office using cross-country skiing style techniques, which worked nicely.

Chap in a Jag was less lucky however. I was stood in our office kitchen looking out, having seen a couple of cars sliding around failing to get into one bit of the car park. Guy in the Jag approaches, and drives on. He got further than everyone else, but as soon as the words "he's doing alright" had escaped my mouth his forward movement ceased and he seemed to suddenly spring sideways and slide at quite a pace into the rear of a parked car.

I could't help but laugh, especially when he opened his door, got out and fell on his arse.

I still feel a bit cunty for it, but at least it's given me an entry to the QOTW.
( Vipros. clever got me this far, then tricky got me in, Thu 24 Dec 2009, 9:11, 15 replies)

Oh god, I had almost forgotten this one.
Years ago I worked for a civil engineering firm as a draftsman. It was basically a land development firm, so we had a department to handle surveying and one to handle roadways and one to handle subdivisions, and so on.

Scott worked in Surveying as a draftsman. Being young and inexperienced he wasn't paid much, so he took on a night job as a bartender at a local restaurant. He used to tell me stories about it rather proudly, about how when he was in charge of the bar no one else- not even the owner- was allowed to be behind the bar. That area was his domain, and he ruled it happily.

One night Scott was coming out of the kitchen with a full rack of glasses in his arms, so his view was partly blocked. Unbeknownst to him a waitress was behind the bar, crouched down and looking through the small refrigerator for something and had the door to the fridge wide open, so it was pointing toward him. Scott was somewhat tall and the fridge was somewhat short, so the corner of the door was at a rather unfortunate height...

Apparently Scott hit hard enough to flip him over the waitress and was unconscious before he hit the floor. The impact was enough to crush his testicle so that it had to be surgically removed. Scott was in the hospital for several days, and off work for a week.

Before he returned I unwrapped a couple of these (Atomic Fireballs, in case the link is borked) and left them on his desk atop a paper that labeled them as "Spare Parts".

The rest of the department found that to be far funnier than he did.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Thu 24 Dec 2009, 3:04, Reply)

I shouldn't even laugh...
Last year i spent a week in hospital after having an operation on my jaw, in which a piece of bone was removed from my face after suffering from an abscess of agonising delivery.

As you can imagine, life in the throat and mouth ward wasn't very nice as most nights i drifted off to fevered sleep to the sounds of dying old men, or cancer wracked patients and to put it bluntly, it was the least amusing place in the world.

One poor bloke (two beds away) was obviously in a large amount of distress and kept trying to get out of bed and remove the tubes from his throat and arms and his penis (which i imagine was some form of bladder replacement or something?) and usually the nurses would firmly make sure he stayed in bed and then he'd argue with the nurses and wake up everyone else on the ward.

Now this happened every night, and at first i really felt genuinely sorry for the poor old bugger but on the last night, i wanted nothing more than to sleep and was getting quite annoyed at his childish attitude to the nurses and could hear him struggling to climb out of bed.

Alas, i can never quite tell you exactly what happened but i heard a nurse shout the infamous words 'If you try and get out of bed, the balloon will come out of your penis and you will NOT like it!'

Followed by three or four seconds of persistent mumbling and then a very loud yelping sound....

and then

'I told you so!'

I had to hide my face under the covers and snigger into my pillow for about an hour afterwards.
(mr-lizard Hell's teeth man!, Thu 24 Dec 2009, 2:06, 3 replies)

more from the norwich to liverpool train service
i watched the man at the table opposite mine drink 8 cans of lager. then he answered his phone and started rambling on about going to a job interview in liverpool. i did not think he would get the job if he turned up that drunk. then when he got off at nottingham and looked around him really confused, i knew with complete certainty that he would not get the job.
(ladyintheradiator, Thu 24 Dec 2009, 1:19, 3 replies)

norwich to liverpool service
over the summer, a ticketless drunk got on my train and got kicked off at the next station. everyone watched as he did a superb drive at the carriage as it started moving out ... and slid down the window pane cartoon-style.
(ladyintheradiator, Thu 24 Dec 2009, 1:17, Reply)

Cross-country skiing class.
Back when I was in Forestry school I had to take a couple of semesters of PE. One of the options was cross-country skiing, an activity I had been doing since I was about ten, so I happily signed up.

As expected, most of the class had never been on skis before- we had a lot of Japanese students, among other things- but another guy was so proficient on his skis that he could skate on them and go like a bat outta hell. So the teacher put him in the lead while she took the middle of the line and I brought up the rear, as I could help out anyone who was having problems with it.

There were some interesting moments, such as when the 90 lb Japanese girl went down a hill and around a curve out of my sight, then proceeded to stand there and chatter with another Japanese girl so that when I followed down a lot faster than her (I weighed about 185) I almost slammed into her and barely managed to dodge by heading straight for a very large yellow birch tree instead. But mostly it was reasonably uneventful, and I had fun.

Then came the day when we were to learn about going down a hill. The day before had been very warm and melted things, followed by a -20 degree night that turned it all into crunchy glassy stuff that was not fun to fall on. The teacher informed the class that she was willing to let us skip out on this part as conditions were far too icy for comfort, but the other guy and I decided to go do it anyway.

I saw Dave take off down the hill enthusiastically, blazing down that hill with both skis parallel for maximum speed. I saw Dave hit the ramp someone had built in the middle of the hill that was invisible to us at the top. I saw Dave explode into the air, then land flat on his back and not move at all.

"Dave? DAVE!" No response. SHIT! No choice, got to make sure he's okay. I went down the side of the hill instead, and the ice chattering beneath me gradually threw me off balance enough that I fell- but at least I was close to where he was still lying. I got off the boots and ran over in time to hear him cough and groan. I helped him to sit up as he swore feebly at the bastards who had built that ramp, then helped him get to his feet (without skis) and trudge up the hill. We made it to the top just as everyone else arrived, and I told the teacher what had happened. She chuckled. "Yeah, a couple of the dorms were out here yesterday. I didn't know they built a jump, though."

"Well, it's not too bad as long as you go down the side. Do I get extra credit for doing it?"

"Sure, why not. Just don't kill yourself, okay?"

I went over to the side, determined to make it this time. I got on my skis, put my feet well apart and started down. Faster and faster the ice chattered under me, and finally I lost balance and fell on my side as one should to keep the skis from getting crossed. Only thing was, I kept sliding on the ice, skis first, at a hellacious clip.

BAM! The edges of my skis caught as I was lying on my side and my heels hit my arse, sending me into a barrel roll for a couple of revolutions. On the second roll I managed to get my feet out far enough that my legs slammed against the ground and I slid to a stop. "Aww, FUCK..." I got the skis off and stood.

All of them stood at the top of the hill and cheered and laughed and applauded.

Bastards.

(I was black and blue for a week and walked with a limp for a couple of days, but otherwise I was pretty much intact. Nothing much worse than a bruised pride...)
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Wed 23 Dec 2009, 23:33, Reply)

Wet pussy
Since I dont have a catflap in my new house (must rectify that in the new year) my cats go outside via the cloakroom window for now. This entails them jumping on the loo seat, up onto the window cill and then out of the window. One of the kittens (6 months old) tried it but unfortunately someone had left the loo seat open...
(Freakmandu, Wed 23 Dec 2009, 23:17, 1 reply)

Kids on bikes
Always remember the time I saw a kid on his BMX bike, he couldn't have been more than 8, flying down the street with a black bin bag as a cape (fuck knows what super hero or cartoon character he was pretending to be).
Anyway, the bin bag cape was just slightly too long for him, and as he got about a 3rd of the way down the street, the cape must have snagged on his bike chain, yanking him backwards as if he'd been clothes lined.

For about another 50 yards I saw this kid lying horizontal on the seat with his feet stuck under the handlebars, holding his neck in case his head was about to fall off ... TWAT ... straight into one of those old stone / pebble litter bins that you used to see outside of chippy's.

Both my mate and myself couldn't help but piss ourselves with laughter that could have been heard from Wembly stadium.

Mind you, the tough little bastard finally freed himself got up and gave the bike a good kick for good measure, like people kick tyres of cars to test them, amazingly NOT A SINGLE TEAR OR CRY was given.
Thinking about it now, I'm sure he grew up and became some sort of kickboxing champion or something ...
(Stro, Wed 23 Dec 2009, 22:40, Reply)

Free Portable Barbeque Grill
I was approaching a red light while driving through Midtown Sacramento when a man cradling a portable barbeque grill in his arms lost control, slipped off his bicycle, slammed into the curb, and rolled unconscious into the street.

The first fellow on the scene immediately called the medics. As he talked to the emergency responders, I picked up the portable barbeque and reassembled it on the grass. Then I went to see if I could rouse the unconscious man and ascertain whether, or how badly, he was hurt.

The fellow talking on the phone announced the Fire Department would soon arrive. Upon hearing the words "Fire Department", the unconscious bicyclist roused, jumped to his feet, and shouted: "No way am I going to let the Fire Department inject me with insulin! No way! Fuck that!"

Of course, no had as yet proposed injecting anyone with insulin, but the bicyclist apparently was an experienced fainter and wanted to forestall a waking-up process he found most disagreeable.

The angry bicyclist quickly tried to cycle off, but was foiled by minor damage to his rear brake. He began walking back to the street corner to argue, but held his temper in check when he saw an arriving police car.

I tried to talk stern sense to the bicyclist. I was doing an awkward kind of dance, trying to slow his departure or even arrest him while simultaneously holding his bicycle upright so he could reassemble the rear brake, and helpfully pointing out the broken tail reflector lying in the grass. "You aren't feeling well," I said. "You were unconscious in the street for more than a minute!" He replied "I am NOT going to let the Fire Department shoot me up with insulin!"

Several of us explained to the cop what had happened. One fellow said he had seen the bicyclist cycling dangerously just before the accident. The cop signalled he understood, but since the bicyclist now seemed to be in full control of his faculties he would be allowed to depart.

The Fire Department arrived just as everyone began leaving and more explanations were required. But in all the fuss, the small portable barbeque grill got overlooked.

Works well, I have to say....
(Perv With A Dog had his eyes pecked out by scrub jays on, Wed 23 Dec 2009, 21:43, 1 reply)

Lack of spidey sense
My son must have been 4 or 5 and he was a bit obsessed with Spiderman ... he had the pants, the outfit, the web-flinger. In short, any piece of Spidey-branded tat that was going.

Grandma was visiting, so while I was making coffees he was showing her his new Spiderman DVD. I returned just at the point where he was launching himself - with impressive force - from the arm of the sofa at the very solid wall, fully expecting to stick like his hero had just done. Needless to say he didn't.

He was inconsolable for a good half an hour through pain and the realisation that he wasn't a super hero. It may well merit a call to ChildLine, but it was hard not to see the comedy value.
(Penguins_Made_Me_Do_It is a dolt ... and she don't care, Wed 23 Dec 2009, 21:02, 1 reply)

Wet floor, kitchen.
Years ago I was a potwash in a kitchen. One of the chefs had spilt something and I'd been called over to mop-up. As usual I grumpily sauntered over with the mop and sign (the managers went ape-shit if you didn't bother with that). A couple of minutes after I'd mopped up one of the kitchen timers go off, from the adjoined pastry kitchen I hear Sean mutter an "oh shit!" and then come bounding into the kitchen, right onto the wet floor, sending him skywards. I'm not sure if I was giggling by the time gravity had taken its course and caused him to land his ribs on the sign in just the right position to promote structural integrity for as long as feasibly possible, but I was almost sick afterwards.
( Slippery Mick ‏, Wed 23 Dec 2009, 20:56, Reply)

schadenfreuded right in the arse
after spending the week laughing at everyone elses' stories, i decided to visit my aunt this evening. walking to the car, i put one foot on the tarmac of the carpark. that foot didn't stay there. that foot slipped, went right up in the air and the other foot followed it. before i knew what was going on, i was lying flat on my back in the carpark, laughing uncontrollably. one of my neighbours tried to ask if i needed help, but he was laughing so much, he couldn't breathe, let alone speak! i got myself off the floor.
my arse really, REALLY hurts.
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Wed 23 Dec 2009, 20:38, 4 replies)

Spectacular faceplant...
This morning I returned to the family homestead, to celebrate Christmas in our traditional way (drink a shit-load of home-made sloe gin and get into dreadful arguments during games of Trivial Pursuit).

Except this year, something's different. SNOW! There's a hill outside the house where the entire village goes sledging when it snows (it was empty, as it was lunchtime), so I got the toboggan from the porch, greased up the runners with candle wax, and trudged my way to the top of the hill. The first run down was ok - quite calm and gentle. I tried another spot for the second run - it was better, but not quite the tobogganing gold that I was hoping for. So I chose another spot for the third run: I lay down on the toboggan on my stomach and pushed off: WINNER! It was fast and furious - in fact, I had to drag my feet behind me to slow down, as I was about to go all the way into the hedge at the bottom.

I skipped back up the hill, and went for that same run again. I wanted to go even faster, so I thrust myself bodily onto the toboggan head-first, giving an extra push to the start of the descent. It was fantastic, I was going fucking quickly, the wind was rushing through my hair, this was maybe the fastest that anyone had ever gone down this hill OH FUCKING CHRIST SOME LITTLE BASTARD'S BUILT A RAMP.

Thud.

I'd tried steering out of the way, but succeeded in clipping the left edge of it: I flipped up in the air, toboggan and I going in different directions. I hit the ground hard, on my side, and immediately flipped over again, landing facefirst before flipping over again and finally stopping. I lay therefore a couple of seconds, completely winded and a mass of aches. Then I gingerly got up, collected the toboggan from where it had landed, and limped back home.

My father met me at the back door: he'd seen the whole thing. What were his first words to me? Are you ok? Are you hurt?
No. He excitely said "that was SPECTACULAR! You cleared at least two feet after that, and that landing was HILARIOUS! I was going to call an ambulance, but then you got up so I laughed instead." Then I swept my hair from my forehead, which was stinging at bit, and he grimaced. Turns out I'd managed to skin half my forehead by using it as a brake, and it was weeping blood everywhere. My forehead now has a large flat lump covered in slowly-scabbing flesh that's oozing plasma. I feel slightly nauseous, and my parents are paranoid that I'm concussed and am going to suddenly cark it like Natasha Richardson.

So, why the theme of schadenfreude? Who gained pleasure from my spectacular faceplant? The answer is: me. I've been laughing like a mong at myself all day now, and would quite happily go out there and do it all again. I bloody love tobogganing.
(The Empress it seems you CAN polish a turd!, Wed 23 Dec 2009, 18:09, 3 replies)

i'm such a sadistic git
Everytime my housemate uses the oven he bends down, and opens the door thereby letting all the nice hot air go straight into his eyes. everytime he does this he yelps, which is quite a lot as he never learns to stand away from the oven.

I can see myself still being amused by this next year.
( weaver., Wed 23 Dec 2009, 17:45, 1 reply)