Has anyone said Colonel Abrahams yet?

(Set your faces to Stunned Bigly, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 16:54, 1 reply)

Has anyone said b3ta yet?

( Pig Bodine., Fri 28 Feb 2014, 16:41, 3 replies)

Have a bit of a thing for free-diving underwater arches.
First one I found was a hole through a fallen slab of rock in a large cave by Navaggio beach on Zakynthos - the famous one with the washed-up ciggy ship rusting on the beach, photographed from the neighbouring clifftop - the cave is clearly visible in most photos. You have to dive fairly deeply on the right-hand-side then ascend through the hole. First time I found it I half-expected to hear a 'pling' and find a rolled-up medikit.

There's another good one around to the right of the monastery peninsula in Paleokastritsa in Corfu, just before you come round into the natural bay you can look down on from the Monastery itself. Again, best to go past it, dive down and rise up as you come back through it. But best to do it accompanied and all at your own risk - though these aren't long tunnels so risk of getting trapped is minimal; so long as you're capable of making the depth.

However, I came a bit unstuck attempting a fairly narrow one near the island rock off Kampos beach (Kefalos) in Kos. It was quite a narrow underwater gully with two arches of rock criss-crossing at one point and flanges of rock either side of the exit. I managed it once on my back, taking a photograph upward. Second time I went through but finding myself short of air, rose a little too early. One ankle and flipper got wedged firmly between the rocks and stopped me short about six inches below the surface. This is not a fun situation to be in.

Desparately fighting the urge to panic and maybe tear my foot off, I pulled myself back down on my own leg, released the flipper, drew my foot out and freed both, before finally surfacing for air.

What I hadn't noticed until then was all the fire-worm stings embedded in my arm and back from faffing about in the tight space, nor the bits of coral that embedded in my back and gave me a nasty cyst just beside my spine.

Though there is worse - apparently there's a deceptive optical illusion in the 'Blue Hole' in the Red Sea, also known as the 'Diver's Graveyard'. It looks like a short underwater hole leading out to the open sea, but is in fact a conical tunnel 26m long that tempts divers down to 52m, and on their 30m dive gear they get nitrogen narcosis and run out of air long before they reach the end, lose bouyancy, and sink all the way to the bottom.
( joefish It's hard for thee to kick against the pricks, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 16:22, 18 replies)

Blah balh blah, we are all trapped in a meaningless existence - fuck off

( d.r._and_quinch when will you be famous?, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 16:10, 7 replies)

Digital Manipulation
I was a teenager on an overnight trip to London with our Young Enterprise team. We'd reached the finals and had been treated to the glamour of a meal at Hard Rock Cafe and a stay in a hotel off Oxford Street before the big day of presentations and judging began.

It was an early start and after being traumatically awoken by the TV alarm, my room mate and I got our shit together and went downstairs to meet the rest of our team in the foyer.

We were about set off to the convention centre when I realised I'd left something important in our room. I dashed off to the lift and, seeing it about to close, stuck my hand in to stop it.

Unfortunately this was an old hotel and the lift had apparently no sensors to tell it when a guest was making a last minute bid for entry. As the metal doors closed on my I had only one thought - Save the fingers! I had no idea how far through the gap my hand was but I knew that as the lift rose it would have no problem slicing off the tips of any protruding digits.

I can still recall the vice-like grip as I wriggled my hand desperately to free it from the lift door. Finally I slipped free and used the remnants of the adrenaline to power my run up the 6 flights of stairs to fetch my missing item*.

*I was 14 so it was probably a hair scrunchie.
( e.m.m.y. foxtrot uniform charlie kilo india tango, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 15:49, Reply)

once or twice...
most of the times i've been stuck in places, it was because i used to be massively fat. this was the reason for me being stuck in a fairground ride turnstile, a skirt in primark, a plastic tube and underneath a large padded roller in some kind of adult play area. when i was a kid, though, i used to get stuck up the same tree quite a lot. i generally solved the problem by falling out of it.
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 15:11, Reply)

I got locked in a walk-in freezer as a teenager.
Someone let me out though, obviously. This is a crap question, please let this part of the site die now.
( BraynDedd Natasha Kaplinsky's labia majora, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 15:06, 15 replies)

I got Stuck back in 1995
www.youtube.com/watch?v=QXCg4BcXsWw
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 14:58, 13 replies)

I got locked in the server room one evening
my phone was on my desk and my only way to communicate with the outside world was the mail server. Not knowing who (if anyone) was left in the office, I emailed the staff general list begging for assistance. Luckily, someone was still there. Less luckily, everyone in the entire company (including people on other sites and even one guy on sabbatical) also got the email the next morning and for the remainder of my tenure I was known as "that guy who got locked in the server room".
( pineapplecharm D d M Y, H:i, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 14:57, 2 replies)

My big toe got stuck in the bathtap once.
Wriggled, tried to escape, pissed in my own mouth.
Ninja edit, sos.
(DBT became a fruitarian on, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 14:53, 4 replies)

Stuck in a spiral of shit suggestions
No offence Pig Bodine, not your lookout.
(bROKEN aRROW PUA HVI Master, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 14:31, Reply)

Stored Manwich
Had a bunch of stuff in a storage place while the missus and I moved. Our accumulated furniture filled a storage unit - and I do mean filled. There's was perhaps three feet deep of empty space at the top of the unit, but the rest was jammed tighter than a lift at Weightwatchers HQ.

One Sunday I let myself into the now-deserted storage warehouse and took the lift up to the unit, accompanied only by the tinny sounds of Capital FM. I can't recall what it was I had to get, only that it was, inevitably, right at the back of the unit in the Important Stuff box.

The empty corridor stretched away on either side as I swung the doors back and started to ascend the dark mass of my personal junk mountain. As I reached the top of the initial junk-face, I triggered the automatic unit lights, blindingly bright and just a foot from my face.

Reeling slightly from this retinal cacophany, I inched my way forward and down through the pile toward the back of the unit and started. Squeezing my slender frame between the back of an MDF wardrobe and a vertical mattress, what had appeared, to my blinky eyes, to be the floor turned out to be a dark space, full of nothing.

I slipped down a little and the mattress came with me, wedging me tightly up against the back of the wardrobe. Shit. After a couple of minutes' desperate wriggling, my situation was improved immeasurably when, no longer sensing my body heat, the automatic lights went off.

I breathed hard in the pitch darkness, now seriously concerned that I was going to die alone, in the dark, pressed tightly between ratty furniture, and gently drowning to muffled strains of Capital FM's aural diarrhoea.

It was the threat of having to listen to hours of what is surely the nation's worst radio station that did it. Kicking and squirming like the world's greatest treacle diver, I struck out, grabbed a handful of brittle Argos bookshelf and hauled myself back up into the blessed, 100W heaven of the flourescent striplights atop crap mountain.

The adrenaline shakes stopped by the time I got the bus home. The embarrassment lasted longer. The busted shelf still mocks me every time I go to get a book.

Length? I was probably in there for all of seven minutes.
(SimianKid internet faffer, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 14:05, Reply)

I'm the largest thing that Brayndedd has had stuck up his arse.

( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 13:55, 4 replies)

Dad's harbourside parking fail
Dad was a sales rep for Wales and the West in various industries (among them needlecraft, kids clothes, fleet cars). Sometimes during school holidays I'd go with him. It was company for both of us on the road, and while he was meeting customers I'd sit in the car and read a book, listen to the radio, and generally watch the world go by.

Once on a visit to North Devon - Barnstaple or Bideford, I can't remember which - Dad pulled up next to the harbourside. It was a public car park with marked spaces, so he wasn't doing anything silly. He was in there a long time, though. Long enough for the tide to come in.

Usually, that would just be picturesque, but neither of us noticed the big thick rope tying off one of the fishing boats in the harbour, which went across the parking space as we'd driven in. I was sat in the car the whole time, and I didn't notice anything move. We did notice when Dad tried to drive away and we found that the drive wheels were lifted a couple of inches above the ground by the now taut rope.

So we had to wait for another five or six hours or so until the tide went out again and we could drive home. Still, I finished my book.
( shinyshinyscalp less a man, more a way of life, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 13:50, Reply)

My ex-ex girlfriend and I got locked in Newcastle Keep.


We were on the roof looking at the view from the battlements of Henry II's New Castle upon the Tyne and didn't realise it was closing time. Obviously the staff didn't bother checking the Keep for any stragglers before locking the portcullis and going home.

We were none the wiser until we made our way to the exit and noticed that "Oh, we must be the last ones to leave", before pushing on the door to find it was locked tight with a medieval lock and chain.

I LOVE generally creepy things and despite not believing in ghosts and the like, particularly enjoy the spookiness of such places purely for the thrill of it. Therefore, I was super excited at the prospect of having to spend the night in a medieval castle and was ready to take full advantage of the situation by taking another more detailed tour of the building.

My girlfriend on the other hand, rapidly became a quivering, terrified wreck as the sound of chinking metal echoed down the 1000 year-old stairs and around the cold stone walls from the wind outside knocking the flag rope against its pole on the battlements.

Despite all my efforts to console her and explain quite how cool this situation was and that she should learn to appreciate these rare little events in life, I was forced to call the police before she had a proper breakdown, who then called the manager who apologetically let us out.

I would have just loved to have said, "It's ok, you can take her. I'll just stay here if you don't mind". Alas, I don't think that would have gone down well with any of the other parties.

TL;DR: I got locked in a castle.
( Fork Has lost his bash virginity!, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 13:37, 4 replies)

Wind.

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 13:29, 1 reply)

Probably aged 11, or so, on a day trip to the beach with the local Methodist youth group.
My best friend and I tended to absent ourselves from the rest of the group during these trips (one time, we spent so long in the sea, the current swept us well out of view of everyone else, necessitating a rather arduous swim back to shore, lest we be left behind). On this occasion, we set to digging a large hole for ourselves to sit in, and sit in it we did, before pulling all the sand back on top of ourselves so that we were nothing but heads. All most amusing, and I'd been watching Red Dwarf the night before, and so declared myself to be a mushroom. All was well, until my friend stood up, decanting his share of the sand onto me, leaving me unable to free myself. Jolly japes for him as he watched me descend into panic, he eventually relented and dug me out.
To this day, I am terrified of tight, confined spaces (clambering through soft play centres with the kids always makes me uneasy).

Something, something, your mum's vagina is pleasingly roomy.
( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 13:23, Reply)

Grave Mistake
Aged about 9 or 10 years old, I was playing with a few mates in a graveyard - it adjoined a park, and was treated as part of the park by all us kids. We were wandering amongst the gravestones, when we came across one of those large stone box-like tombs. This one caught our eye because the side had fallen out, revealing the hollow interior.

Peering in, we saw that the earth within had also collapsed, at one end in particular leaving a deep, dark hole disappearing into the ground. Not surprisingly, we started to dare each other to climb in. Woooo, spooky!

A couple of kids scrambled in then out again as soon as possible, and then it was my turn. I wriggled through the open side, then slid down into the depths. As my eyes became accustomed to the darkness, I saw that at the far end of the pile of earth there was a number of odd white things poking out. For a moment I was puzzled, then realised that they were, in fact, toe bones.

OK, time to leave, I decided. But at that point there was a creaking, grinding noise, and a change in the light - the box-like tomb had chosen that moment to complete its collapse; the other side fell out, the ends tilted and the lid settled down over me with a thud.

So, I'm now trapped in an occupied grave. Oh, terrific. Where's Scooby Doo when you need him? The darkness was absolute, and the shouts of the others seemed a very, very long way away.

Thankfully before panic could really set in, light reappeared as the largest and strongest of the group heaved the heavy slab up far enough for me to wriggle out, and (probably screaming like little girls) we legged it and headed for home. I think I spent the rest of the day under the duvet.

The next day, we returned to the scene, and I was chilled to discover that, without the boost of shock-induced adrenaline, he was unable to lift the slab...

Apologies to those old lags who've heard this before
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 13:14, 4 replies)

also
www.youtube.com/watch?v=tSNWeXGZMcU
( mictoboy shitting in your cunt since, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 13:12, Reply)

He did and all
www.youtube.com/watch?v=xhZRqPPTNjE
( broadsword w⚓, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 13:10, Reply)

when my son was 2 years old, and my daughter was only a few months old
my wife accidentally locked them and the car keys in the car while out shopping.
Luckily after a few frantic minutes she managed to persuade my son to undo (with some difficulty) his car seat belt, clamber up and unlock his door.

fascinating, i know.
( mictoboy shitting in your cunt since, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 13:06, 2 replies)

I lived with them on Montague Street
In a basement down the stairs, there was music in the cafés at night and revolution in the air. Then he started into dealing with slaves and something inside of him died. She had to sell everything she owned and froze up inside.
And when finally the bottom fell out, I became withdrawn. The only thing I knew how to do was to keep on keepin’ on like a bird that flew.
( tangledupinblue hairy badge with moving eyes, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 13:04, 1 reply)

My marriage.
Thankfully it's over now.
( Fucking hell Jeff I am not a robot, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 12:45, 9 replies)

I got Tangled from HMV.
Excellent film.
( Muns, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 12:40, Reply)

"In a loveless marriage" - opening bets on the number of entries.

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 12:28, 4 replies)

YM.
In, under and/or engulfed by.
( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 12:19, Reply)

Problem: Locked out of my house.
Solution: Found that the tiny awning window at the back of the house, leading into the garage, was open a crack, and although it was about 7 foot up I decided I'd try and squeeze through.

Result: Hanging upside down by my trouser belt (caught on the metal window catch), torso inside, legs waving about freely outside, for around 15 minutes until the metal of the buckle sheered in two, dropping me on my bonce.

Result #2: Discovered door between garage and rest of house also locked. Briefly considered the cat flap. Unable to walk anywhere for assistance without trousers falling down.
(eViLegion Chief Commissioner of the Scottish Lunacy Board, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 12:17, 1 reply)

TURD

( MEATSNAKE Richard Hammond, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 12:14, Reply)

SECOND

( MEATSNAKE Richard Hammond, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 12:14, Reply)

IT's
A trap
(Pill Popper Thank you Sasha Shulgin, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 12:11, Reply)