A Russian friend of mine...
Whom I have known for many a year now, attracts slapstick accidents.

We were cycling to a mate's house for a get together of some description, when we spotted a group of (fairly fit) lasses we knew from school, so we decided to stop and say Hi. Cue Russian friend slamming his brakes on in what I assume was supposed to be a skid-stop, but using his front brakes a little too enthusiastically, causing him to teeter up on his front wheel and hang there for what must have been a good few seconds before gravity caught up with him and he hit the deck face first, mere feet from aforementioned lasses.

On another occasion involving just the two of us we were wandering back from the swimming pool in our home town in freezing early January temperatures, through a nature reserve which served as a handy shortcut. The Russian spots something I can only describe as a hybrid between a small lake and a large pond which is completely frozen over, and decides to try breaking the ice. We're stood there stamping around for a bit, rapidly tiring of our pointless endeavour, when he takes a massive jump and slams both feet down, taking out a large circle of ice and plunging into the depths with it. The water came up to his shoulders and he was blue by the time I'd dragged his stupid arse out of the water, me giggling like a numpty the whole way home as soon as I realised he wasn't going to die.

To finish this trio of slapstickery, you must know that our friendship group indulges in the creatively titled sport of "glowstick frisbee" which involves drinking until the group as a whole is heavily refreshed, then taking a frisbee with glued on glowsticks down the park in the middle of the night and hurling it about. So there we are and after a mighty throw by yours truly the frisbee is sailing across the park with three pissed up young gentlemen in hot pursuit. Two of them gracefully avoided the park bench that lay in their path, the third, being the uncoordinated Russian that he is, spangs his shins and manages a full somersault before landing heavily on his arse. He laid there for a while before we stopped pissing ourselves laughing and picked him up.

I think he earned the playground nickname "The coordination station".
(AprilFool, Tue 26 Jan 2010, 21:05, Reply)