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This is a question Stupid Dares

I once dared my mate to eat one of those blue cakes out of a urinal. He won his 50p, and got his stomach pumped into the bargain.

Stupid dares, eh?

(, Thu 1 Nov 2007, 11:22)
Pages: Latest, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, ... 1

This question is now closed.

This is a story from Mrs VMOS
In the village she grew up there was a family of not particularly bright folks, every village, every estate, every neighbourhood has one.
You know, the dads a bit portly with comedy clown hair, the mum looks like margaret thatcher with jo brands hair and dress sense, the kids look like that "evolution of man" diagram, even the daughters
Anyway, in this particular group there was a child called James (or third from the right on the diagram) and he was dared the princely sum of £2 to jump off the harbour wall. Now this was the early 80s so £2 isn't quite the measly sum it is these days. So Jim, eager for some easy cash leaps off the harbour wall.

The tide was out.

Young Jimmy broke his neck and joined the quadraplegic club. On the bright side it helped keep him out of jail, unlike most of his siblings.

Length? According to his wife "There's nowt wrong with his tongue"
(, Thu 8 Nov 2007, 11:56, 4 replies)
Stupid Dares Part 2
I dare someone to call me ginger.

What is it with all the ginger bashing?
(, Thu 8 Nov 2007, 11:34, 15 replies)
Idiots army
The post below reminds me of a squaddie I met years ago who thought it was a real hoot to kick my mate in the nuts (without warning) so hard he couldn't breathe or stand up for 15 minutes. Oh what jolly horseplay.

I think he had an inferiority complex because he was a) thick and b) ginger but I digress.

Anyway, I was later told this khaki cretin got into an "I dare you to hit me as hard as you can then it's my turn to hit you" game with a fellow meatheaded member of the Queens Own Nitwit Cannon Fodder Brigade, Nincompoop Battalion. The result? A good one...... a broken jaw and a court martial. Ha!
(, Thu 8 Nov 2007, 11:25, Reply)
One of the stupidest I've heard of...
Fizzlebeef reminds me of a particularly cuntish former neighbour that used to live up the back of us when I was 16. Said cunt has now been in prison a couple times for assorted acts of nedity (or in England, chavism)

But, in years gone by he once dared me to do something to him. He hit me on the back of the head. I hit him back. "Bet you can't knock me down ye ginger cunt!" Says he. (not really a dare as such, but close enough)

He's done two really stupid things there. 1) called me ginger, a fine red mist has decended over my vision. 2) He's challanged someone who does Karate and Jiu Jitsu to knock him over. But do I deck him with a well placed punch? No. Do I give him a nice and painful Ipon Sieo Nage on to the pavement? No. I grab the slimy fucker by the throat and hoist him up in the air and smash him into the ground hard as I can and walk away while he gibbers and writhes on the ground.

Length? About 7 feet up. I was impressed because normally lifting someone like that isn't something I can do (sure, I can shoulder and hip throw but that was something special I thought heheh) Serves him right. He stayed clear of me after that.
(, Thu 8 Nov 2007, 10:52, Reply)
I was once dared to do a Stone Cold Stunner on this nutter at school.
All for 50p. Once I'd executed the wrestling move, my friend pointed out that it more resembled a Diamond Cutter than a Stunner, and refused to pay out.
(, Thu 8 Nov 2007, 10:42, Reply)
For someone special...
Another post reminded me of this dare, for that twunt who just won't get the hint that he should fuck off and die: Bet them they can't fit a pool ball in their mouths.

They'll be able to - they'll stretch their mouths as wide as posible, and they'll just need to give it a bit of a shove to get it past the teeth. You'll lose your wager to some smug git gurning through a face full of pool ball... not so good so far, but here's the reason it should be saved for that special someone: To get it out again, you need to give it that same shove past the teeth, but with a pool ball in your mouth, you can't get your fingers in there with enough space to push on it with the same force as you did to get it in there.

Cue a trip to A&E, who alledgedly have a special tool just for the purpose.
(, Thu 8 Nov 2007, 9:57, 2 replies)
Disabled sing-song
(Thanks for Mr Explicit for helping me remember this, hopefully not posted this 'un before)

Back in college we used to have a section for the disabled teenagers, and as far as I can remember they had good facilities for providing care/support/training for them. One particular guy there was the legendary Duncan. Now Duncan wasn't your run of the mill ordinary spacker, oh no. He was the most violent and abuse one that I've ever met. Constantly swearing and hitting people, he was also about 6 foot of muscle too which increased the threat level. His eyes were also unnaturally close together and his skin was a dark red too, which made him look even angrier. He literally looked like a character from "Stoppit and Tidyup" (now edited to the correct name for the pedantic cunts amongst us) .

So it was the end of a lovely college perving day (as per) and me 'n' me mate Anthony were waiting by the bus stop, along with a crowd of about 50-100 other students. We're talking and perving away when suddenly Duncan marches through the crowd towards us. Anthony smiles, and calls him over.
"Anthonyyyyy!" shouts Duncan, who marches over. Somehow Anthony had befriended the Beserker, and unfortunately Anthony can be a "bit of a cunt" when he wants to be.
"Come here Duncan.....awwww mate, I've learnt a cool song, do you want to hear it?"
Duncan storms over, and Anthony whispers some words in his ear.
"You got that mate? You know what would be awesome, if you sung that to all the people here. Go on, I dares you to sing it to everyone."
Duncan smiles, and turns around to the crowd. Anthony on the other hand turns to me and says "Leggit."
We run around the back of the crowd just in time to hear Duncan shout "There's no black in the Union Jack so send the bastards back!". Cue 100 or so students gobs hitting the pavement and me 'n' Anthony pissing ourselves laughing.
One girl at the front of the crowd said "That's terrible Duncan, who told you to say that?" and Duncan points at the empty space where we were.

A few years later I'm learning to drive and I drive past Duncan, who'se frog marching down the road with some headphones on. Vince, me driving instructor says in his tactful way "Look at that bright cunt by there Jeccy."
I notice him and say "Eh, you can't say that Vince, that's Duncan."
"How the hell do you know him then?"
"He was in college with us."
"College? What the fuck was he doing there, A Level Paper-Tearing?"
I almost hit a parked car from laughing so hard.

Duncan Disorderly, we salute you, you fecking mutant psycho.

Apols for length? It did have a dribbly on the end :)
(, Thu 8 Nov 2007, 9:54, 3 replies)
"Show your love for her"
At school there was a special needs unit who hosted actual lessons seperately, but the kids were registered along with the rest of us, which meant we had lunch breaks which sometimes consisted of Mongtastic adventures.

The lad in our registration group was Charles. Charles was an amiable but chromasome-laden kid with thick NHS glasses and sunken eyes which gave him a slightly unsettling appearance.

He fancied Tania, who was out of the league of almost everyone but the best looking, adonises in school. But Charles thought he was in with a chance.

She spurned most of his overtures, but they were classic tired ones like a single red rose (or in his case a single daisy picked from the school field), a card which declared his intentions.

One day he was bemoaning the hopeless situation with me, and I suggested he should show her his love for her.


"Yes go on, I dare you" (I may or may not have said this, but for the purposes of staying on topic, I did)

So that lunchbreak I saw him walk up to Tania, who was sitting in amongst a group of girlfriends, unzip his fly and produce the largest erection I have ever seen. Really he held it in 2 hands and his swollen phallus was level with his nipples.

There were screams, girls ran in all directions, I tried to explain to him that this was not quite what I had meant, but he chased after Tania, 'cock in hands' with an anguished look on his face.

To this day I still chuckle as I think of a bouffant blonde, running in terror from Charles proferring his gargantuan spam javelin for her as though t'were a peace offering.
(, Thu 8 Nov 2007, 9:12, 6 replies)
Years ago
I had Just finished sixth form (1999) and it was the last summer, my friends and I had some money we all had crappy jobs at the time (I worked in virgin , which was dull and boring), we all had about 500 pounds. Wondering what we were going to do next year my friend dared us to travel accross europe(infact we travel the world a bit) together. So we had £3500 in the kitty for food a car and sleep arrangements. We got my friends mum to get us condoms as she was a sexual health nurse (we had about 1000). And the adventure began.

We bought a rather horrid toyota rav 4 which had 110k on the clock , faded red paint etc. for all of £450 pounds, plus we got direct line insurance for 45days free, stupid offer in the paper!we extended it by a month, for all of 80 pounds.

We put on the side (with vinyl stickers) startkey and clutch, punerific eh?

we booked a travel crossing on P&o and set off.
We travel through france , sleeping our way through the local girls, daring each other to do crazy things , we slept in the car/ tents in farmers fields, and every week we book a place in a formula 1(very cheap hotel 14 euros a room a night) to have a shower.

We managed to travel through italy into crotia then we had the great idea of going to greece and our car broke down every 250 miles or if we left it standing it ran out of electricity.
then from greece we got a boat to egypt and drove in the desert (which was amazing).
Then we set off to turkey. on another "ferry".

From there we haggled our way into georgia, through bribing the boarder guards. Then we got into russia, we got stopped every so often for the standard $1000 dollars or we will arrest you, we paid them about 10 pounds and got on our way.

I always wanted to see stalin grad so we managed to get there. then we travelled back through poland into germany , then into denmark , lot of jazz ciggys smoked that weekend , then back through holland in belguim then home.
our parents were worried to death and told us off because we lied to them and said we were going to spain or 2 weeks.

The car made it, my friend max who was 21 at the time had the car in his garage for another 3 years until he setup his business as a media and pr company , it now sits with our photos in a sort of shine in the lobby.

length = so many miles , 1 rav 4 and 5 friends.

A dare and a crazy idea that neaerly killed us, but we had loads of fun, and apparently the car passed its mot, could there be a return for startkey and clutch , well maybe...
(, Thu 8 Nov 2007, 0:29, Reply)
I was dared by a mate to open my mouth really wide
then he shoved a plastic cup in it. The cunt.

*learns lesson*
(, Wed 7 Nov 2007, 23:56, 2 replies)
When I was five years old, my best friend dared me to catch a bee. It was springtime, and there were lots of flowers. Mistaking bees for balls, my friend's slobber-mouthed German Shepherd had been catching bees for weeks. What did the swollen-lipped dog know that we didn't?

My friend demonstrated how to do it by catching a bee, suddenly screaming in agony, and running home with his dog. Curious about his reaction, and all alone now, I caught a bee as well, and ran home in agony too.
(, Wed 7 Nov 2007, 23:22, 2 replies)
A manager
at a popular fast food chain, lets call them McDonalds, as that is the name of the franchise in question, had a headache, so we thought, screw the normal way, lets dare him to snort it, and as none of us could be bothered getting astraw, he promptly took £20 out of a till, rolled it up, used his employee discount card to mash up some paracetamol, and he snorted it. Apparently he could feel it slowly dribbling down the back of his throat for the next three hours. The odd feeling did make him forget the headache though.
(, Wed 7 Nov 2007, 23:01, 1 reply)
Apparently I have a sauce.
During a particularly desperate, poor and depressing part of my life I did something that still makes me feel ill now.

Whilst wasting what money I did have in the pub a friend bet me/dared me to eat a whole basket of condiment sachets (I was going through a phase of putting silly amounts of them on chips. A pathetic replacement for nutrients.)

He said he would give me £50 if I got through the whole lot. The problem was there was no way to 'dilute' them, no chips, no bap etc.. To earn my £50 I had to eat them one after another, no breaks, no water. We stole the basket and retired to my hovel.

They were all the ones I hate; brown, horseradish, tartar, salad cream.

I managed to get through 28 when the urge to puke took over.

I ran to the bathroom, dived towards the toilet and proceeded to bring all 28 back up.

My friend stood at the door cackling hysterically, I screamed at him to fetch water, he responded by thrusting £50 into my hand. At this point a glass of water was worth the £50. I loudly slurred at him to get "FUCKING WATER" throwing the money back.

He eventually got some for me, but let me keep the £50 even though I'd left 6 sachets as apparently: "The sight of you puking multicoloured streams in pretty much the reverse order to how they went in was worth £50 of his money any day"

(, Wed 7 Nov 2007, 22:30, Reply)
I once..
..dared a lad at school to throw a bottle of coke at my old Maths teacher.

I got suspended for it.

(The other lad had Downs Syndrome).
(, Wed 7 Nov 2007, 22:25, 5 replies)
A friend of mine when we had finished our AS levels...
After a moderately heavy night in Sloane Square was dared to jump from a street sign to a lamp post. Being a keen rock-climber and extreme sports enthusiast he happily obliged, mounting the sign and promptly launching himself to the lamp post. It had been raining.

He caught the lamp post with his hands and as he attempted to plant his feet onto it, they slipped either side. His nether-regions took a fairly hefty blow on the post and he collapsed on the floor, rather white and promptly had a feel down below. Pulls his hand from his trousers to be confronted with blood.

Oh dear.

We take him to hospital and call his parents. 2 hours later at 1.30am a rather disgruntled father arrives. 6 hours later my friend is attended to by doctors. (At this point i am lying clutching my stomach outside due to drinking roughly 7 cans of budget tesco red bull. )
He is promptly told he has ruptured his urethra and must be admitted. Catheter and codeine follow.

Now, the funny thing about rupturing your urethra is that if you get an erection, you bleed to death.
Never would one have thought that having beautiful nurses tending to your nether-regions could ever be a bad thing, but luckily he kept it under control.

The tube healed up eventually, but due to overdeveloped scar-tissue, he was unable to piss without enduring agony.
The NHS suggested two methods of surgery to correct this:

i)they slice it all the way down the middle and fix the problem before sewing up either side.
Ii)they slice it off completely at the point of problem, remove the tissue and reattach.

7 months later, (and sooo many man points), he has surgery to finally correct the issue with a private surgeon (funnily enough) who suggested keyhole surgery.

Length? Pretty impressive considering...
(, Wed 7 Nov 2007, 21:38, 1 reply)
Guns and cars
I was driving my car, with some friends also passenging. We had just driven a good few miles to get some ammo for my new BB gun (a Steyr AUG) for no other reason that it was a nice day and I felt like going for a long drive. Obviously I needed to take the gun with me when buying BBs from the shop, even though I left it in the boot whilst doing so.

On the way back, one friend dared another to point the gun at me. A driver with a replica firearm pointed at his head. Days after 7/7. On a road that while wasn't exactly busy, did have at least one other vehicle in view. This image caused me to panic slightly, which to the outside observer probably made it look even worse.

I glanced in the rear-view mirror and noticed the woman driving behind had a look of complete terror on her face. Noticing this, my slight panic turned to fear and I looked over my shoulder to try and get my friend to put the gun down. The woman took this as a cue to put her foot right down and speed past the car, all the while staring into the car, with me staring back at her, both displaying fear-striken faces, albeit mine for reasons of not wanting to get shot at by anti-terror police rather than being hijacked. She handbrake turned at the next exit, presumably continuing her fast escape on that road to notify the authorities.

Fortunatly there were no other cars around at this point. Not wanting to remain a sitting duck on the main road for the police and realising the woman was probably too terrified to make note of my number plate, I took the next the exit on the other side of the road and got lost in the maze of back roads of the North Walean countryside before emerging at a small town and then finding my way back home from there.
(, Wed 7 Nov 2007, 19:11, 6 replies)
I learnt to swim really late...
..so as a youngster, upon family trips to the swimming pool, I would wear a rubber ring. I didn't mind at all, probably still wouldn't. My father was at the deep end with his cousin, both of them diving in and out and generally showing off. Seeing me, father dares me to jump in the deep end.
"But I can't swim" I protested.
"Fear ye not, for you are wearing a rubber ring" says he, for he might have been Shakespeare.
So I go ahead and jump in. The impact of me hitting the water sends my arms up over my head, and I slipped through the middle of the ring and sank. Father finds this hilarious, and after what seemed like ages, had to be gently reminded to jump in and save me. I never trusted adults again.
(, Wed 7 Nov 2007, 18:35, 1 reply)
I dare you to defecate in a box...
I was once dared by a school friend to leave a box containing my freshly passed faecal matter in the headmaster's office.

This was in repayment for his humiliating three of us during assembly that day for laughing (almost uncontrollably if I remember correctly) at the concept of "the virgin mary's womb".

I took an empty cardboard box from the painting cupboard and stole into the boys toilets (well it would've drawn attention to me if I'd stolen into the girls).

The next 15 minutes were gainfully employed in straining several large portions out of my pink hornless squid-beak.

On completion, my foul-smelling felicitation was ready and I placed it on the headmaster's desk.

He walked into his office (which was next to our classroom) and instantly hit defcon1. I still firmly believe had I been sat 5 metres closer I would've been knocked down by the shockwave.

As teachers are wont to do, he jumped to a conclusion and punished the kid who was always in trouble, dragging him by the scruff of the neck to his study to berate him at full volume for his "revolting act".. every so often you could hear the kid mumbling some defense which was then bellowed over as more ire was thrown at him.

I owned up at a reunion a couple of years ago, shortly after my 32nd birthday.
A look of thunder fell over his face and he dragged me off to his study and bellowed at me for half an hour as though I'd only just done it.

(, Wed 7 Nov 2007, 16:50, 3 replies)
Mountain Bike mayhem
Many years ago when I wasn't fat with a bad back I was quite a keen mountain biker.There was a small group of us who used to go out a couple of times a week through the Purbeck Hills, riding to pubs, necking several pints of Wife Beater and then wobbling back.
One weekend we decided to plan a trip abroad and so left the safety of Dorset and headed into the unknown wilds of Wiltshire.
We decided to ride around Avebury, which, if any of you know the area, is high chalk downlaod with some cracking climbs and fast descents.
Now, one of our number was nicknamed Captain Crap. He was a nice enough bloke but a complete prat. He had recently decided to buy a new bike and, being new to the sport, had asked our advice. As it was in the days before you got any suspension on a bike worth less than £1000 we suggested he get himself a bike with a sound frame (like a Stump Jumper) and added things like suspension forks to it as and when he could afford it. Rather than following said advice he went down Halfords and spent £3.99 on a Saracen full bouncer. This bike was so shit that it used to regularly chuck him off when he went round roundabouts on the road!
Getting back to the story, on this particular day it was raining and when chalk gets wet it's rather a lot like ice. We all got to the top of a really long, steep descent and an evil plan was hatched among the rest of us without even speaking. We all looked at each other and knew exactly what to do. We dared him to beat us all down to the bottom. He accepted the bet and we all got really pepsi-maxed up, track standing and really working ourselves into a frenzy.
As one of us shouted "Go!" Captain Crap tore off down the slope as fast as he could and disappeared round the first corner. the rest of us sat back on our saddles and grinned at each other.
Presently, we headed off down the slope rather gingerly, taking it easy given the hazardous conditions. As we rounded the first corner there lay his bike with Captain Crap laying some distance away looking very unhappy indeed!
Length? About 20 feet I think
(, Wed 7 Nov 2007, 16:30, Reply)
Last night...
I was quite drunk, and got tricked into sqalloving a dice:S I have no idea why, or what I won, as I only know I did it cause I was told this morning...

It gives me the fear thinking how and when the f it get's out again...
(, Wed 7 Nov 2007, 15:21, 25 replies)

This question is now closed.

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