One boring evening
me and my little friends (can't remember how old we were, I think probably about 14) decided to see if we could freak out passing motorists by a few of us standing round and pretending to give one of our mates a kicking when he was on the floor.

It kind of backfired when the second car to go passed was a police car. Queue us spending half an our explaining to a couple of very unamused looking coppers that it was all just a joke and we weren't really trying to hurt him.

The moral of the story is "Don't live in Northwich" because it is so boring that this is what you will have to do for fun.
(Lord of Marzipan Fact: Clouds are worse than Hitler, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 16:42, Reply)

My sisters did pretty much every rebellious thing ever
they gave my parents absolute hell, my parents gave them absolute hell. By the time they were 14 and 16, and I was born, they'd covered pretty much everything going. Throughout their twenties and thirties they continued to go out dropping Es and so on, eventually finding blokes and having kids and calming down a bit.

I, on the other hand, with nothing left to challenge have never done one single rebellious thing ever. I never had a detention in school, I have literally done NOTHING to rock the boat.

So... what can one do in these circumstances? There must be something left I can do that they haven't done. And there is ONE thing...

I'm getting married in September. That'll learn 'em.
( Sonic James Doom forgetting the date since... umm..., Thu 19 Jul 2007, 16:38, Reply)

Resident Loon
Just out of interest, how many pedants have sent you a version with your syntax corrected?
(patently Was somewhere else on, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 16:31, Reply)

Phone fun
We were early teens -- 12 or 13 maybe -- when we found out that (at that time) if you called someone and didn't put the 'phone down, they couldn't hang up on you: you'd still be there if they picked the receiver up again.

It was Sunday night, the only place open was the off-licence on the high street so we got the number and called from a nearby 'phone box (near enough that we could see in the shop window). We shouted names and so forth, then when he threatened to call the police we gleefully waited as he put the 'phone down, picked it up again and dialled. We could hardly contain our mirth when, after he'd dialled and said his piece, we flung yet more obscenities at him.

Of course he wasn't a complete dimwit, and it didn't take him very long to work out that the gang of giggling youths clustered around the 'phone box across the street might in some way be connected to what was going on with his phone. Red in the face and literally spitting with rage (I've never seen anyone so angry, before or since) he came charging out of his shop. We stood our ground for about 5 seconds -- until it became clear that he really did mean to do us some physical harm -- and then scarpered.

The other people I was hanging around with went on to become local troublemakers, and one even landed in prison. But to be honest, I never really did have much heart for rebellion -- especially if it involved physical peril -- so that's about as rowdy as my teenage years ever got. Frankly I was far too busy playing crappy computer games and exploring the new-found delights of masturbation.
( reallywittyname veraciously conspues lexiphanicism on, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 16:15, Reply)

wackers1
John Lennon or James Blunt?

I'm going to assume the latter, since you've chosen not to name names and the former is hardly in a position to complain.

At my school we were supposed to put our coats in our lockers, but I WORE MINE IN THE CORRIDOR!!

That's me stickin' it to the man. Yeah.
(Seance Trumpet has got no beef with a man enjoying a croissant, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 16:04, Reply)

I didn't start rebelling until I reached my twenties...
...the joys of drink, drugs and shitting in the gutter all escaped me until I'd reached my second decade.
(misteroz, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 16:02, Reply)

manbear84
Bollocks you did, and that joke is extremely aged.

Anyone else getting sick of urban myths being posted as QOTW answers?
(clumsyeloquence is a girl, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 15:59, Reply)

Gayness...
If this is posted twice sorry. Shocked peers and parents....had a gay fumble with school chum when we were v young teenagers. Completely harmless. Turned he got famous and sold a piano recently. Fuck me....now Im shocked! Bless him.
(wackers1, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 15:57, Reply)

A bit anti religous
At school I used to try and annoy the more religous teachers, rebelling against their habbit of spouting thier beliefs even during non religious subjects.

So one day ... I decided to take it a step further and created an a4 sheet in 2o point red letters stating "10 things that you never knew about god" this contained such facts as; god shags kids, god was a pot smoking hippy. god is a cunt and god sucks dogs cocks. I then put this under the door of our coweringly christian german teachers door ... nearly got expelled for that one.

I even went to the lengths of creating an Amiga bootable floppy disc called the Christian Mutilator which was to be a kind of Jolly Rogers Cookbook aimed at targeting religous types. I got as far as writing some shite stuff and creating a animated cross with blood flowing down uing delux paint.

I'm a bit more sensible now mind and only target muslims and cats.
(Mr Teatime, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 15:57, Reply)

Crass comeback
At uni I had a love/hate relationship with a very attractive posh young Sloane by the name of Natalie. When no-one was around she flirted with me, when others were present she used to try to put me down for being a common peasant with a regional accent. I returned the compliment by either flirting back or indulging in class war.

One morning I walked into a lecture with my mate and took a seat just behind Natalie. She started giggling, "What are you laughing at?" I politely enquired. "Nice gay coloured football shirt* you're wearing abe" she replied loud enough for all and sundry to hear. Without thinking, I promptly barked back at equal volume, "You won't be laughing when I make you wear it while I'm shagging you roughly from behind!".

Cue her gasping "Er er I don't know what to say!" and several people laughing at both her being so startled and the audacity of such an unpleasant remark. Hardly Oscar Wilde I know but it shut her up.

Of course I never got around to making her wear the shirt after that incident...

*Football team name withheld, neither the shirt or team were gay.
( abefroman skating on the thin life of modern life on, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 15:51, Reply)

rock city
i did a flip off the stage in rock city once, people were supposed to catch me, however most off them had wandered off, so I ended up crashing back-first onto the sticky floor. I think i spent the rest of the night lying down by the wall moaning in agony...
(ewe, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 15:50, Reply)

Me.
I am a teenager and i'm very competitive. This means that i'll do anything to be cleverer, more capable and more talented than the people I hate.
This includes losing my virginity before those snotty, stuck-up girls in my school that are proud of being slags, and beating my boyfriends-brothers-girlfriend at Monopoly EVERYTIME we play because she's a moany, thick, fat fuck.

She's 21 now and has had a driving test about 3 different times but failed. I'm 17 and i'm determined to pass it before she does just to piss her off.
She's also planning her first tattoo. Fuck me if I don't get mine before her.
( Lollylegs lite, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 15:46, Reply)

I have a 1.5L Smirnoff bottle...
...and an optic on my desk. The bottle is filled with water, but it's fun to watch people's reactions as I draw a stiff double measure and down it in one.

My boss hasn't yet said anything, but I'm sure the time will come.
( flake has nothing against your right leg, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 15:44, Reply)

I did something very similar to manbear84
Except in Basra, with badgers and marked them "Property of the British Army."

Edit: It's buggered off! Anyway it was an old urban legend about letting numbered sheep off around school missing out one of the numbers to confuse people.
(mehmeh 0% witty, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 15:41, Reply)

Pointless murder
When I was little, me and my brother made a life-size dummy out of old pyjamas sewed together & stuffed with scrunched-up newspaper, with a teddy bear stuffed up to its neck in the dummy's neck hole, for a head. Then we threw it out the window while screaming "No! No! AAAAGH!" to give the old ladies at the bus stop 50 yards down the street a fright.

Dashing out the door in mock horror and gingerly lifting the dummy back inside added to the effect.

In retrospect, we thought that being old ladies, they would naturally have bad eyesight and think it was all real. More likely, they just thought we were two dickheads.
( Ysol ab abl blap, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 15:37, Reply)

Drink meths? Pah, nothing!
OK, less 'rebellion' and more 'stupid bet' at university.

I drank some (OK it was only a thimble-full) of polish for guitar strings. Really. For a pound.

Don't drink guitar string polish, oddly enough it is quite unpleasant on the palate and rather toxic.
(Bob the Scutter, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 15:12, Reply)

Revolting animal
I'm the first to admit that I'm a dismal failure as a revolutionary. Generally, my 'rebellious stage' got no further than wearing red and green socks to school in place of the prescribed black ones....

After months of this heady revolt, I decided to escalate, and took to miaowing loudly at any comment made by any of my teachers (who were, to be fair, twunts of the first water.)

Even at 14, the "pussy" jokes soon lost their humorous bite. After 4 months, I gave up and enjoyed my legacy - and a nice kipper or two.
(incongruous, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 15:09, Reply)

I once consumed
Part of a dead pidgeon, it was on the old fire station near where i live in the hieght of the summer and the head was missing, we used to knock about in the woods (coz we waz ard) at the back of said fire station and fuck about, so we lit a fire and i decided it was a good idea to eat said pidgoen..

so we set about featherin the poor bugger got bored and threw a half naked decapitated pidgeon on the fire, 10 minutes later i pick it up and take a bite (and swallow) out of the fleshy bit on the front

i was 15 then, 6 years later im still (famous?) for it... people who used to know us wont remember us but as soon as the 'incident' is mentioned mines the first name to the frontal lobe :|

Length? about 4 days with my head down the bog \m/ good times
(The Reverend annoying the regulars since, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 14:55, Reply)

Hairy
As a minor act of rebellion at a private school I attended for a while (straight after a stint at a rough-ish comprehensive), I dyed my hair two different colours. The truth is I looked a bit like a badger. It wasn't a good look, and therefore wasn't going to last. However, the headmaster very quickly decided I should dye it a "uniform" colour. Aha, thought I. The uniform colours are grey and red. I'll do that.

I dyed it brown.
(hawkblaster, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 14:47, Reply)

Trying to be grungy
I grew my hair long, got my nose pierced, and painted my fingernails black.

My nan called me a "dirty gyppo".
(zangengeburt, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 14:32, Reply)

Party tricks to undermime society
As a young lad fresh from popping his social politics cherry, I decided I had to desperately find some way to prove to the people I worked with I was politically infused. Instead all I did was buy Che Guavara T-shirts.

However in doing this I began to listen to Rage Against the Machine and heres were the real part of the story comes into play.
You see for on the front cover of the original Rage Against the Machine album cover is a Monk immolating himself in protest to the Vietnam War. I thought "How I could replicate this, without totally messing ones self up."

Hence the reason to this day my party trick involves inserting a match into my urethra and lighting it, grasping only my penis.
Also, there goes my B3ta Virginity. For too long have I lurked!
(TheVomitingCavalier entered one image challenge and failed miserably, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 14:22, Reply)

Bugs are scary.
My mother pretty much let me do anything. Which meant I was a bit stuck. She was however, a rather tidy and clean person, and the house was always spotless. So I did the only thing I could do and turned my bedroom into some sort of fungi and mould breeding ground.

I walk along. I tread on something. A bug. Can't quite work out what it is. Looks like a cockroach. I'm terrified of bugs in general, let alone cockroaches. I call my mum into the room.

me "MUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!"

mother: "yes?"

me: "bug. scary. what is it?"

mother: "ahh, that's a cockroach"

me: "AAARRGGHHHHH" lots of mental images of huge swarms of cockroaches climbing up my legs, or over my body at night...

mother: "They get everywhere, they can lay eggs everywhere y'know. I'll have to call the council"

me: (fearing some local paper showing my room) "nooooooooooooo"

Cue cleaning frenzy. I threw out my mattress, all my bedlinen, all my clothing, my bed (one of those stretched fabric over wood things), my carpet. I then spent 3 days pouring bleach in the gap between the skirting board and the floorboards, and on every surface I could find. I then went without a mattress for about 6 months until my brother got a new one and I got his old one, and finally brought a bed a few years later.

One of the odd things was that I kept pouring bleach on my toolbox, then coming back "ARGH eggs" then pour more bleach on. Took me a few weeks to realise it was the dried up bleach I was seeing, not more cockroach eggs.

Last summer, now I am well and truely far away from my parents and have been for over a few years, I bring up the subject. My mother starts laughing.

"It was a water beetle. There's a nest under the house. We only said it so you would tidy up the room."

"so you let me go without a bed for 4 years because you wanted me to tidy my room?"

"well, it worked, didn't it?"

Cow. But fair play.
(mmmm curry doesn't really understand this sig lark, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 14:21, Reply)

Trusting pub landlords
When I were a nipper - about 10 - I lived in a small village in the arse end of nowhere. Back in those days (you know, before steam power) people were a lot more trusting, and the local pub landlord would leave barrels of beer and cider by the side of the pub because he was too lazy to move them into the cellar.

Now, when a bunch of kids are bored waiting for the school bus of a morning, they break stuff for fun. We soon discovered that if you use a sharp piece of wood, you could break the seal on the barrels and out comes lots of tasty cider and beer. So several of us used to be half-cut before hopping onto the school bus. The school never seemed to twig - I think they decided the drunk kids were just stupid.
( Damocles wants no part of your debauchery, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 14:19, Reply)

Literally shocking
I'm one of those people who seems to hold a charge of static electricity easily. I get a shock when I get out of the car, and that sort of thing.

Anyway, at school I discovered this "feature" of myself, and used to be able to build up a fair charge by running down the stairs rubbing the sleeve of my parka (yes, it was green with an orange quilted lining and faux fur trim on the hood!) on the plastic handrails.

I would then discharge myself on some exposed part of the anatomy of a passing pupil, frequently the face.

(the above sentence should not be read out of context)

Funnily enough it didn't make me many friends.
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 14:15, Reply)

Graffiti
My brother and I both thought we could bring down society through the medium of writing graffiti on the walls of the near-derelict toilets in our local park.

So serious were we in our mission, that we exchanged felt-tip pens and boxes of chalk that Christmas with knowing winks over the wrapping paper.

Our reign of terror as middle-class teenage anarchists was short-lived - something to do with the fact that we both signed our work. With our own names.

"The Police are all poofs, signed S. Duck" = Wrong.
( Scaryduck LIKES EGG, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 14:10, Reply)