I once infuriated 20,000 Christians
Many years ago I was goaded into going to a festival "I didnt realise at the time it was for the god worriers" I went with my usual supply of drink and peripherals... anyway at some point throughout the god based music the question was posed... Who starred in the film Leon the Pig Farmer... the answer being Brian Glover...
As I answer I was Asked to go onstage where I was questioned about my beliefs, Now these chritians are a forgiving bunch (or so I thought) and I admitted my atheism (I may have put ot slightly stronger than that I was only 16 and thought I was hugely funny) and was booed off stage, I still have the VHS copy as my prize, and I got a handjob off a good catholic girl (I dont think they mentioned thhat as part of the prize, if they had there may have been more contestants)
Shit story I know but about the only one I have apart from winning an Easter hamper last week from the Coop...
(Bonzodog29 is an unemployed sponge of the worst kind, Fri 29 Apr 2011, 18:54, 3 replies)

My name's Charlie Sheen,
and etc etc
Rather large drugs were involved, too.
( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Fri 29 Apr 2011, 18:48, Reply)

I once won a bet by drinking three pints of Guinness in five minutes.
The prize? A pint of Guinness, to be claimed the same evening.

I had time to meditate on the wisdom of this during the ten minutes following the challenge, which I spent turning green, breathing very slowly and swaying.
( .Yeti., Fri 29 Apr 2011, 18:41, 4 replies)

I've won the caption competition in 'the Mirror' a fair few times now...
which is confusing, as I've never sent them an entry.

My dad thinks of himself as quite the wordsmith, writing poems for people's weddings and birthdays and the like. It's quite nice in many ways that he'd go to the effort, but they never sound...well...good. In his head a poem must always rhyme in couplets or it's not a real poem. In addition, he doesn't seem to have any sort of understanding of rhythm, making his work quite difficult to read.

Anyway, he's a sucker for the caption competitions in the Mirror, sending in 4 or 5 entries under different family member's names (for some reason he thinks they won't choose him if he's entered too many). Considering the few people who must enter, and the number of entries from my dad, I frequently get emails from my him with a scanned image of the caption competition, congratulating me for my 'witty' comment about some photo.

You don't even win a prize...
( guffguff fuckes your gradeds balls!, Fri 29 Apr 2011, 18:37, Reply)

Disco Dancing
Way back in 1981 I managed to win not only the East Angling region of the Trust House Forte / Honda sponsored freestyle disco dancing championship, but also took a rather splendid Third place in the UK Finals.. prizes included a black and white tv set, promptly swapped for a Casio synthesizer and a Honda Melody moped. The cash totalled up to £350.
The funny part was the regional newspaper interviewed me, and being an unemployed oik they wanted to know what I'd spend my money on... having survived a summer on salads and cold showers, I thought it about time I paid off the electricity bill, and get myself re-connected.
My mother was mortified that I'd let anyone know. Let alone a countryside paper.
(lordy lordy, Fri 29 Apr 2011, 18:29, Reply)

"winning" on ebay
the good thing about ebay is even when you buy items without bidding on the buy it now option, it still says you've won them.

which makes even the most impulsive misguided buys seem like items to treasure and cherish

I originally had 8 of these bad boys I 'won' on ebay. They have a habit of mysteriously going missing when the wife does the laundry. The other 3 weren't as tasteful as these. she thinks it's ironic the term 'won' was used during their purchase:


In their defence, I defy anyone to be depressed or sustain an unhappy thought in one of these shirts.
Sometimes, I slip one on whilst listening to 1950s lounge music and pretend I'm Montgomary Clift.

facial topairy is compulsory when wearing, toothpicks are optional
( Clay hopes this bit is long enough to promote my websi, Fri 29 Apr 2011, 17:37, 4 replies)

Back when I was about seven.
I attended a chum's birthday party; I won the pass the parcel and was given a small pack of Crayola crayons. Needless to say, I was mortified and quite ungratefully told my mother I wasn't remotely interested in the crayons; at which point she took them from me and threw them away.

Apologies for lack of funnies. I realise QOTW veers between humour and pain; and in this instance you're looking at the tears of a clown.
(Chickenwire social lubricator extraordinaire, Fri 29 Apr 2011, 17:34, Reply)

Inappropriate prizes
I won the school music prize when I was 18. Then the A level results came out, and I'd come bottom of the class.

I also won the star prize in a raffle when I was about 6 - a case of expensive wine.
( kitty_cat, Fri 29 Apr 2011, 17:10, Reply)

Crap things I've won

Include some Lego from a colouring competition when I was five, a Chesney Hawkes Lp from a lucky dip competiton in Smash Hits, several £1 book tokens from school (I never got round to spending them as even then you couldn't get a book for £1).

As an adult I won some old lady scented bath salts in a church raffle, £10 on the lottery and a large hamper of Christmas goodies on my third day at my new job. This won me several enemies as everyone had contributed to the hamper but me and I'd only bought one ticket. Ah well...
(Burnside79, Fri 29 Apr 2011, 16:50, Reply)

The second half of this football season
I've changing my usual 'fixed-odds' bet for a different market. Coral (and most other bookies) have a 'both teams to score' market (Coral call it 'Goals Goals Goals') and the point of the bet - if it wasn't already clear -, is to select matches where both teams will score in a game. The result doesn't matter. A game could finish up 99-1 and that would still be a good result if you've made that selection.

Take last Saturday, if you look at the matches that were played (Prem league thru Scottish First)all bar 12 games would be a winner.

I usually go for between 4 and 7 selections with the odds for most game in the 5/6 or 8/11 price bracket, the prices aren't fantastic, but a five-fold bet soon sees the return adding up.

A £5.00 stake on a 5 selection bet usually returns between £65.00 and £85.00

To win a tenner on the National Lottery you are looking at odds of 52/1, and you need 3 of your 6 chosen numbers to be drawn. With the football bet, every game is played so in theory they could all be 'winning matches' you aren't limited to just 6 numbers.

So far, this is the market I've had the best, and more frequent returns on. Small stakes, resonable returns and regular wins.

Of course, I might just be having a bit of luck, but with a bet costing less than the cost of a couple of pints once a week, it is hardly 'problem' gambling.
( JeffTheDogFucker Can you dig it?, Fri 29 Apr 2011, 16:26, 3 replies)

"It's French!"
I used to love entering newspaper competitions for movie passes, because quite often you'd win. Usually one of my friends would want to come, like when I got a double pass to the second Austin Powers. Once I won tix to The Dinner Game, a brilliant French comedy which has since been re-made as Dinner For Schmucks. Not a single one of my high school friends would come with me because they couldn't be bothered with subtitles, so I ended up watching it alone in a half-empty cinema. My gut was busting with laughter most of the way through, but it almost entirely rang hollow.
(ElGranto, Fri 29 Apr 2011, 16:17, 3 replies)

A winner is me!
Last year I won the prize for best customer service in a short stint working for BA.

What was my prize? I won a box of miniture heroes, a can of red rooster (cheap alternative to red bull) and two packets of discos. Truly a prize fit for a king!
(Mong goose, Fri 29 Apr 2011, 16:02, Reply)

Back when MTV was cool...
...and I mean like 1986, my local cable company ran a promotion to win some stuff just by sending in postcards to them. There was no mention in the commercials what you would actually win, but for some reason I went down to the post office and filled out 5 postcards at 19 cents each, sent them in, and promptly forgot about them.

Several weeks later I got a box in the mail. I wasn't expecting anything which made it pretty exciting. Turns out I won the contest, my prize was a deluxe black satin MTV jacket with the big MTV logo embroidered on the back. My 16 year old self almost died, it was absolutely the coolest piece of clothing I had ever owned. I wore it to school every day that I possibly could and what was better, other people actually commented on how cool it was. I was the only person in my entire city of 93,000 to have a jacket like that and I've never owned anything like it again.

I passed it along to my sister and she wore it through high school as well...it still hangs in a closet at my mom's house.
(local_weather rarely posts anything, Fri 29 Apr 2011, 16:00, Reply)

I won the Weakest Link
I was on BBC One and everything
(Waspard has your wank bank account details, Fri 29 Apr 2011, 15:58, 1 reply)

I wrote a letter to TSR (Dungeons and Dragons)
I was about ten years old and loved DnD and I wrote a complimentary letter to them, the company soon changed to Wizards of the coast and I assumed my letter had been lost.

A few weeks later i received a parcel from Wotc containing two huge posters, some dice and other bits and bobs and a hand-written letter.

I was chuffed :)
(mr-lizard Hell's teeth man!, Fri 29 Apr 2011, 15:14, 2 replies)

How could I forget?
I won a tea towel for having a letter published by Black Type in Smash Hits, around 1984.
(Vice Admiral Sir Charles Cockbrush KCB MBE DSO, who is finding it increasingly difficult to log into b3ta.com wants to duck your aunt and kick your puppy, Fri 29 Apr 2011, 15:11, Reply)

How to piss off the English department.
I once won a prize for English at school. A bloody book token. Great.

I think it was the result of a book report, where we were given a small blank exercise book and had to fill it with a summary or review
of the story, and I crafted a crude pop-up book. It was on 'Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH', and being a creative sort I'd lifted a load of illustrations from the promotional material for the Don Bluth animated adaptation.

Anyway, the prize was a book token. We had to choose a book, buy it, and return it to the school for a grand presentation. Come the parents' evening, I was sick with a headache so my brother picked it up for me.

From then onwards, I was subject to derision and abuse from my barking mad, Victorian-attitude English teacher, and I had no idea why.

It was only much later that I realised that the deluded staff honestly thought they were instilling a love of literature in their students, and my choice of 'The Complete Spectrum ROM Disassembly' as a literature prize rather tactlessly highlighted their failings. It was apparently referred to as 'not even a proper book'; Doctors Ian Logan and Frank O'Hara apparently not on the department's list of acceptably tedious and departed authors.
( joefish It's hard for thee to kick against the pricks, Fri 29 Apr 2011, 14:58, 2 replies)

A shoe
I once won the left shoe (signed) of Grampian TV personality Arlene Stewart in a radio competition.
(williamthebloody, Fri 29 Apr 2011, 14:35, 1 reply)

Irony abounds
A little while back I attended an expo funded by the federal and state governments (in Australia) for all things to do with carers and respite services. You know, care of the disabled and elderly. My wife is really my carer, technically, but she didn't feel like going and I was interested in whatever information might be had. It was creepy.

On arrival at the local town hall I signed in as a guest etc, and was given directions by an incredibly smiley, friendly young woman in a casual uniform of polo shirt and trousers - shown where all the freebie food was, tea/coffee etc, a schedule of the talks to be given up on the main stage and pointed helpfully to the array of booths and tables about the hall representing various organisations both private and public. Lovely. Not many people here though. And I am the youngest by at least 15, more like 20 years. The first question I got was "so are you caring for someone or.....oh, so your carer is at home???"

Now at this point in time my speech wasn't as bad as it is now, but it was pretty bad. Basically, I sound fairly retarded, and thinking back I'm pretty sure that the judgments amongst the polo shirt women (all women, all young, all smiley and solicitous) ran along the lines of 'brain damaged'. I'm not, I just have this inconvenient disfiguring and early-mortality-inducing autoimmune disease. Never mind, eh? But as my speech even then was so impaired I'd given up doing much chatting or explaining. I was just here hunting for information.

Behind every table sat a variant on that special sort of lady-of-a-certain-age spruiking the services of a charitable yet expensive private respite retreat, or a government sponsored osteoporosis and falls prevention clinic. They were all so terribly nice and so terribly over-prepared for the underwhelming crowd in my town that by the time I was halfway around the room I had 10 pens (well I did take 3 from the Public Trustee because they were rally good ones), half a dozen of those squeezy stress balls, a fistful of showbags of all sorts and more knowledge about female urinary incontinence than I could ever use.

Then a polo shirt smiley girl attacked again. "You know there's food just over there? Tea? Coffee? You've seen where the toilets are? Food? Tea? Juice?" Smiling back, saying "no" to every little thing offered (except the toilet location. I nodded yes to that) and sending her on her way. But they kept coming. A couple of minutes and two more pens later a new one bounced up "I see you've not got yourself any of the lovely food yet - there's cakes, and fresh muffins, sme chicken wings and.." I interrupt with a smile and a "No, thanks, I'm fine really" and take pause. Everyone but I are hoeing into the freebie buffet like it's their last. Of course, the carers, elderly and disabled in this country are generally rather poor, what with the cost of staying alive being somewhat higher and the chances of earning any money from gainful employment rather somewhat slimmer than average. Some there were clearly going to saving money on skipping dinner tonight. Maybe the polo shirt girls were concerned I might keel over on them, as I'm 6ft and less than 55kgs.

Visit more tables, listen to a speaker on some shit or other. More pens, showbags, squeezy balls, two polo shirted would-be feeders until I try and explain to the last one properly, through the magic medium of the very best, least-monglike voice I can muster:

"The thing is, I cannot eat or drink at all you see. I have a feeding tube"
(Entirely undaunted) "Great, how about I just get you a plate with a bit of everything!"
This sort of thing happened all the time until I gave up sentences longer than four words.

She came back to find that I'd sneaked off to avoid her further embarrassment.

Later that evening, I am settling down in my favourite armchair, the theme tune to the evening news just starting up, when there's a knock at the door. Four of the bloody polo shirt smiley cuties were there with a massive fuck-off hamper of edibles, evangelical grins affixed and camera in hand. Flashes, poses, smiles, congratulations and they're gone. Seems the "confidential government survey" I filled out to give them a better understanding of the needs of carers in our town and region also served as a door prize entry. Seriously gourmet stuff, almost none of which my wife was into. We spent NOTHING on gifts for our neighbours last Christmas.
(dadadali has hybrid vigour, Fri 29 Apr 2011, 14:10, 1 reply)

Cheers b3ta!
I've never won anything, not even pass-the-parcel as a child. But since joining b3ta I've won a bottle of Glayva. And all I had to do was click the like button a facebook page :D
(Lilith_Kirsch, Fri 29 Apr 2011, 13:40, Reply)

I won one of the many competitions being run by our school bully.
The bell sounded for big break and we charged along the school passages faster than George Michaels sperm down the back of a tramps throat. Tongues hanging out the side of our mouths like rabid dogs and our eyes lolling about in our glazed sockets we headed outside for a solid 45 minutes of brutal thuggery thinly disguised as sport. We rounded the last corner ready to make our final dash to the school field when we were confronted by Bradley and his thugs.

Bradley was a larger than life chap with a penchant for discipline. When I say larger than life I mean he was over 6ft and a fat cunt and by discipline I mean he regularly took pleasure in beating the younger scrotes at the school. His withering look of disdain meant only one thing: Our passing would not go without incident.

Apparently our crime today had been running past Bradley. Note the crime wasn't actually running, but rather 'running past '. As Bradley was feeling particularly generous he decided that he would have a competition and the winner would get a special prize. In my mind I was imagining that perhaps this prize would involve some sort of positive outcome such as a pain free exit from my current predicament. Bradley's question, as with his previous competitions, was fair and just; as was expected. "So Jenkins, when was the last time I fucked your mum".

I immediately blurted out 'yesterday' while poor Jenkins was more than likely still coming to grips with the mental imagery of this behemoth of a man shagging his mum. My prize of 10 swift punches to the arm, a dead leg and generous shove down the stairs was in retrospect perhaps not that good a first prize. However, I do think it was marginally better than second place which consisted of a 45 minute spell inside a cramped steel locker where passers by were invited to give it a kick.
(The Archduke of South London I'm in your Girlfriend eating her organs, Fri 29 Apr 2011, 13:33, Reply)

I've always been obsessed by horses, I buy saddles from junk shops, I'm a regular at my local stables, and I think about them constantly. As a child I either wanted a real horse or a rocking horse but got neither, sadly. I made a horse out of old boxes, I had hobbyhorses and I converted the garden wall into a type of horse. I was a kid obsessed.
One day at our small town's Xmas fair they had a raffle, and one prize was a big furry donkey, a huge one. It was amazing and I have never wanted anything so badly before or since. I never win anything, and the tickets were £1.50, all my pocket money, but much against my better judgement I bought one - number 180. I hung about the fair for hours till they did the draw, and the guy finally got to the donkey, waving it about shouting 'Right! Who will be taking Lil Pedro home?'. I remember feeling sick with fear and thought I couldn't bear to see someone else win him. The guy finally finished his spiel, rummaged in the bucket and pulled out...my ticket. I was so stunned I could only wave it, and the crowd pushed me forward to be given my prize. Everyone was laughing because I was clearly so delighted, getting that huge donkey about the same size as me. I carried that 4ft donkey all the way home in the freezing cold and dark, and it was one of the best journeys of my life, I don't think my feet hit the ground once! I kept him for many years - he wasn't a big furry donkey, in my mind he was an Arab steed. I made him his own stable in my bedroom. Ah, happy memories! Sorry that shit story is shit, but it was one of the happiest moments of my young life. :)
(resurrection_mary cannibal_ferox, Fri 29 Apr 2011, 13:01, 19 replies)

Reet...
I won a set of roller skates when I was about 8 in a competition in Look-In. First prize was a Raleigh Chopper. By the time the skates turned up (I didn't even know I'd won, they just turned up) they were too small.

I won an electric carving knife in a raffle. 6 months later, I won an electric carving knife in a raffle...

I won £16000 on 'Who Wants To Sit In A Fucking Freezing Studio Asking Questions Put To You By The Bloke Who Did Tiswas In A Futile Attempt To Win A Million Pounds'. I didn't know the answer to the £32000 question so I bailed out and got looted by my kids at Christmas.

That's it really.

Ooh, almost forgot. I won a 'Carter USM' CD autographed by Mark Goodybags on his Radio 1 show about 17 years ago, I think it was a 'Guess the year' type thing. About 4 days later, I told one of the lads I worked with the answers to that day's question and he won summat too.
( His Popiness the Hole Invaded Poland on, Fri 29 Apr 2011, 12:54, 14 replies)

Win...
...ning

I’ve won loads of stuff.

I won a signed photo of everyone's favourite breathing Beatle, Ringo. At bingo.

I also won a waffle in a raffle.

And some pottery (in a lottery).

I won a biography of Godsmack guitarist Tony Rombola in a phoney tombola.

A reed for bassoon in the Egg & Spoon.

But lost it all on Spot the Ball.

And I’ve never won anything for my poetry.
(lestergunn ...hot holes o' heat..., Fri 29 Apr 2011, 12:36, 3 replies)

Competitive urges
The idea of winning - or conversely losing - is self-destructive, and serves merely to assuage any doubts we may have about our own inherent self worth.

I am not a slave to competition. I've risen above it. In fact, I'm probably the most uncompetitive person I know, and I challenge anyone to beat me at it.
( CaptainCrackerjack live trout, slow motion, Fri 29 Apr 2011, 12:31, 2 replies)

Zombie goldfish
At a park fair I won 2 goldfish. so far so typical. I expected them to die after a few weeks, by which time the novelty would have worn off anyway so win-win. For the next 2 years fish 1 and fish 2 continued to live. I cleaned their bowl dutifully. One day I decided that as well as a clean they needed a change of scenery so filled up the washbowl and left them in there to prance and forget continually. After a while my brother went to the kitchen for a drink, until we hear him screaming. Fish 2 had jumped out the washbowl and my brother had stood on him. PANIC, my mum picks up the fish and starts blowing air into its face and throws it into the bowl. It's dead, fish 2 the fairground fish that outlived our expectations is floating. We go away to mourn (watch tele) leaving fish 1 with his dead mate. Later on I decide it's time for fish 1 to live a life of solitude in his bowl but what's this fish 2 is moving slightly. Oh shit it's a Zombie Fish. We left it in the bowl for a few days renamed him Lazarus. That fucker outlived fish 1 (who died about a year after the event) by another 2 years. 5 Years for a fairground Zombie fish. I'm not sure if that's a win or not...
(Bababoon, Fri 29 Apr 2011, 12:02, 1 reply)

I once won
QOTW. My prize was the right to smug it up to Mrs Sandettie who always said I wasted too much of my time on this site when I should be painting the bathroom door and tiling the kitchen.
( sandettie light vessel automatic New Twitter - @bollocksreally, Fri 29 Apr 2011, 11:53, 1 reply)

4 pounds
in an envelope from a raffle at youth club in the local church. I was ten. I proceeded to get off my rocker on e-numbers from the tuck shop and attempt to vault over the ping pong table. The vicar's wife was unimpressed.
(SnowyTheWereRabbit the Leporid from Hell, Fri 29 Apr 2011, 11:32, Reply)

The only thing I've ever won
Way back when I was a wee little girl, probably about 8, and still doing drama classes, my drama teacher recommended that I enter into a poetry recital competition. She handed me the poem which I was to recite, called 'Elastic Jones', about some guy who 'had rubber bones' and 'could bounce up and down like a ball'. I don't remember much of it except that Jones died after jumping off of Blackpool Tower.

Anyway, after practicing for goodness knows how long, the day of the recital finally came. Now, you must realise that I was born three months premature, so I was very small for my age, but had somehow developed a British-ish accent, probably from reading so many damned books.
(nb. this story takes place in Australia, and I am not British, so god knows how I got such an accent)

So little old me got up on the stage, had to have the assistant lower down the microphone for me, and I recited the poem.

After a long time of waiting for everyone else, the winner was announced...it was me!

I got up to the stage and collected my plethora of prizes, including a water-bottle, and had quite some trouble holding all of them.
My family was very proud, and I'm sure that my grandparents have an embarrassing VHS of the moment.

Just goes to show that cuteness can sometimes win out.

Length? About three short verses.
(Avnas dosh!, Fri 29 Apr 2011, 11:22, Reply)