Real-life slapstick
Fact: When someone walks into a lamp-post it makes a very satisfying and hugely hilarious "Ding!" noise. However, it is not quite so funny when the post is in the middle of town and you are the victim. Tell us about hilarious prat-falls.
Thanks to Bob Todd for the suggestion
( , Thu 21 Jan 2010, 12:07)
Fact: When someone walks into a lamp-post it makes a very satisfying and hugely hilarious "Ding!" noise. However, it is not quite so funny when the post is in the middle of town and you are the victim. Tell us about hilarious prat-falls.
Thanks to Bob Todd for the suggestion
( , Thu 21 Jan 2010, 12:07)
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Don't drink and dive...
He was only about 5 and a curious soul. He had an eye for the forbidden and a pair of siblings who would encourage him into as much trouble as possible. In this instance it was the box of wine on the kitchen counter, the nozzle teasingly poking its wine filled eye over the edge as if out to tempt the unsuspecting boy towards its bounty. I could tell immediately that curiosity had sunk its teeth deep into his mind; drawing him ever closer to this forbidden territory. He was bent slightly about the middle and oppositely again at the neck, one eye shut tight and the other peering into the spout from which wine could come out.
"Go on; you know you want to." I wurzelled at him.
"I can't." he squeaked back at me before returning his gaze nozzle ways.
*enter older brother, stage left*
"Just fucking drink it, we all know you want to." he was 10 and so cool with his swears that we almost always did what he said.
Youngest brother gulps greedily at the wine teet and too much cheap, own-brand vino enters his belly. He looks green immediately, but this plonk was rank and even the most hardened drinker would suffer with its vinegar like nature.
He staggers slightly and his head bows, filled with heavy drunken delirium. A funny rumble stumbles from his mouth and momentum gets the better of him. Soon a charging begins; neither deliberate nor precise and walls are bounced off, but momentum still builds and quickly the front door is found. The distance between porch and gate is dispatched in moments and for a fleeting second nothing can halt the progress of this charging ball of drunken five year old. But alas, something has to give and the conversion of energy from movement to shuddering thud provides the thing as head meets post meets chest and stomach and arms and legs are propelled still forward until he sits at the base and warmly hugs his conqueror.
Then he was sick all down himself and we two are castigated for our role in his fall-down, but it was worth it; I think I still giggled in my dreams that night.
( , Fri 22 Jan 2010, 16:46, 1 reply)
He was only about 5 and a curious soul. He had an eye for the forbidden and a pair of siblings who would encourage him into as much trouble as possible. In this instance it was the box of wine on the kitchen counter, the nozzle teasingly poking its wine filled eye over the edge as if out to tempt the unsuspecting boy towards its bounty. I could tell immediately that curiosity had sunk its teeth deep into his mind; drawing him ever closer to this forbidden territory. He was bent slightly about the middle and oppositely again at the neck, one eye shut tight and the other peering into the spout from which wine could come out.
"Go on; you know you want to." I wurzelled at him.
"I can't." he squeaked back at me before returning his gaze nozzle ways.
*enter older brother, stage left*
"Just fucking drink it, we all know you want to." he was 10 and so cool with his swears that we almost always did what he said.
Youngest brother gulps greedily at the wine teet and too much cheap, own-brand vino enters his belly. He looks green immediately, but this plonk was rank and even the most hardened drinker would suffer with its vinegar like nature.
He staggers slightly and his head bows, filled with heavy drunken delirium. A funny rumble stumbles from his mouth and momentum gets the better of him. Soon a charging begins; neither deliberate nor precise and walls are bounced off, but momentum still builds and quickly the front door is found. The distance between porch and gate is dispatched in moments and for a fleeting second nothing can halt the progress of this charging ball of drunken five year old. But alas, something has to give and the conversion of energy from movement to shuddering thud provides the thing as head meets post meets chest and stomach and arms and legs are propelled still forward until he sits at the base and warmly hugs his conqueror.
Then he was sick all down himself and we two are castigated for our role in his fall-down, but it was worth it; I think I still giggled in my dreams that night.
( , Fri 22 Jan 2010, 16:46, 1 reply)
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