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This is a question "You're doing it wrong"

Chthonic confesses: "Only last year did I discover why the lids of things in tubes have a recessed pointy bit built into them." Tell us about the facepalm moment when you realised you were doing something wrong.

(, Thu 15 Jul 2010, 13:23)
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This question is now closed.

I got to the age of around 21 when I found out that
tripe wasn't actually a fish.
(, Thu 15 Jul 2010, 15:02, 8 replies)
My mum
is a bit of a disaster when it comes to computers. The other day, in front of thirty 5 and 6 year olds, she clicked on a minimised window only for the entire desktop to turn upside down.
(, Thu 15 Jul 2010, 15:01, Reply)
“You’re not doing it right, let me have a go”.
I’ve mentioned my mate Simon on here before in response to the ‘Most childish thing you’ve done as an adult?’ question.
Now Simon is not an ordinary mate; he has one prosthetic leg (not that he lets it affect his life), and bad luck seems to follow him about. This particular story happened a few years back and is one that gets retold time and time again amongst my friends.

My mates and I would often convene at a local park on a Sunday afternoon for a kick-a-bout, laze in the sun and for a few beers whilst we recollected the shenanigans from the night before. This Sunday was no different, and four of us met and started up a game of ‘Cross Bar Challenge’. In short, the game consists of two teams stood either side of a goal frame. Each team takes it in turn to have a shot at the goal frame, with 2 points awarded for hitting the crossbar and 1 point for a post with the winner being the first to get to a pre-determined number of points.

Fifteen or so minutes after starting the game, Simon turned up, his face beetroot purple as usual and it clashed quite spectacularly with his cropped ginger hair. His false leg made him waddle slightly, and due to his plump nature, was often referred to as ‘Weeble’.

“Alright wankers?”, was his delightful opening line.

“Fuck off Weeble you fat cunt”, retorted Jake.

“Yeah, yeah, Jake. Wind your neck in. You gonna let me join in or not?”

“Nah, fuck off Weeble”. We all started laughing.

“Listen mate”, I began, “We’re only playing first to twenty and we’re already on 16 so you can have a game soon. Have a fag and a beer, we won’t be long”.

Weeble sat down on the grass, opened a can and we restarted our game. It didn’t take long for Weeble to get bored and he soon started commenting on our wayward shots, saying things like, ‘Rubbish!’, ‘Your fucking shit’ and ‘I could do better’. To be fair he did have a point. Our shots were going all over the place and we were taking longer than expected to find a winner.
After I had lined up a pretty audacious long range effort which missed by a good 10 yards, Weeble muttered the immortal words,

“You’re not doing it right, let me have a go”.

“Ha! You can’t kick it high enough Weebs”.

“I bet I fucking can”.

Weeble got up slowly from the ground, untucked his t-shirt and waddled over towards us. I chucked him the ball. Weeble placed it under one arm and walked a few yards back before placing the ball on the ground about 20 yards from the goal. We were all ribbing him as he prepared his run up, asking him if he could even kick the ball the required distance, let alone hit the crossbar.

Weeble didn’t say a word. He made a small divot in front of the ball with his foot and took four big paces backwards.

“Go on then. Beckham, let’s see what you’ve got”, shouted my brother.

What happened next is a catalogue of events that will remain embedded in my mind until my last breathe. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion.
Weeble picked up as much pace as he could and his right leg went back behind him before he brought it forward at speed towards the ball. On impact, his prosthetic leg detached itself from his real leg, just above the knee, and arced skywards towards the goal, spinning foot over knee in the air as it went. His momentum caused Weeble to spin around twice on his standing leg like some sort of dizzy pirate, before collapsing to the ground. We looked towards the goal. Weeble’s leg collided with the crossbar, before flipping over to the other side of the goal. The ball ended up just short of the posts. We were in hysterics; it was a proper crying with laughter moment.

“HAAA! HAAA! HAAAAAAAAAA! Fucking classic. Weeble you daft cunt!”

Weeble lifted his head to look at us from the ground.

“2 points, lads. That’s how you do it”, was all he could muster before joining in with the laughter.
(, Thu 15 Jul 2010, 15:01, 1 reply)
I had a friend
in the first year of my degree who was on exchange from the US, on the pre-med programme. She was doing an organic chemistry course and in one lab she had to use a condenser. For those of you that aren't chemists, it's basically a glass tube inside another glass tube and water is allowed to flow through the outer tube in order to cool in the inner tube. Seemples. However, my friend connected both tubes on either end of the outer tube to a tap each and turned both taps on. And then wondered why it shot across the lab, spraying water everywhere. She did this two more times before realising her mistake.

She's now at medical school in the US :S
(, Thu 15 Jul 2010, 14:58, Reply)
round the corner (and some)
Way, way back in the mists of time, when I had NO first hand knowledge of the layout of the female genital anatomy, I met a girl and one thing led to another....
In the end we ended up back in a student room, enjoying the pleasure of being with each other. This led to a bit of furtive digital exploration. I wish that someone really had pointed out various things to me before this moment, but I was woefully unprepared for..
The fact that the hole was a lot further round than I thought it would be. I did not let on to her that I thought it should have been a bit more "on the front"? But ZOMG that was a bit of a "ur doing it wrong" moment.
I've since conducted many more experiments and thankfully can say that my ignorance has passed into history.
(, Thu 15 Jul 2010, 14:50, 1 reply)
Pearoast but awfully relevent:
I was 17, and I was going out with this girl who was also 17, and she was - well - 17 - she was absolutely bloody gorgeous.

And obviously we were very horny.

And we fooled around an awful lot, BUT

We were both virgins, and she said she was saving herself.

Now, during my upbringing, my two older sisters had told me in no uncertain terms that when I came of age I was to respect a girl's decision when she says stuff like that, as she would feel pressured and then awful and dirty and used and stuff afterwards if I didn't.

One evening when this girl and I had some time to ourselves, she sat across my lap, with nothing on but my shirt, which was completely unbuttoned, and she whispered in my ear, "Screw me ... "

And verily I didde think, "This woman hath been infected with LUST, and she knows not of what she speaks!" and I did not do the dirty deed to her, for I thought of myself as honourable.

And woe was me, for she dumped me shortly afterwards as a result.
(, Thu 15 Jul 2010, 14:44, 5 replies)
When we first got a home computer
I found my mother red-faced and furious, complaining that the mouse was broken. When she moved it the cursor on the screen didn't move. This was because instead of pushing the mouse around the mouse mat, she was lifting it up and down in the air.
(, Thu 15 Jul 2010, 14:43, 3 replies)
My wife, electronics engineer.
One of our kids' toys was playing up. When the little button was pressed, instead of playing "Old MacDonald had a farm", it would go "Pzt".

"Is it the batteries?" suggests the Amish Wife.

"No," I say, confidently, and proceed to dismantle the toy and check the wiring. This involves about 28 tiny screws and lots of fiddly bits going "sproing".

"Are you sure it's not the batteries?" suggests the Amish Wife again.

"Nooo," I say. "Look, it worked just now. Must have been a loose connection." I proceed to re-introduce all fiddly bits to their little recessed homes, and replace all 28 screws.

Triumphantly, I let out a sigh and press the button. "Pzt," it says.

"Why not try changing the batteries?" suggests the Amish Wife, timidly. I am rarely happy while doing DIY, what with tiny screws and bits that go "sproing".

"Bloody hell, woman, it's not the batteries. I've got a degree in electronics and ..." blah blah blah. The Amish Wife disappears again to go and weave some yoghurt or something.

After another fruitless disassembly and assembly, including checking that the switches work using a multimeter, I sheepishly try some new batteries... e i e i o.

So, I learned a valuable lesson: If you're not doing what your wife tells you, you're doing it wrong.
(, Thu 15 Jul 2010, 14:42, 6 replies)
"It's not supposed to make that noise -
YOU leave the brakes on!"

Fuck you, bitch. It's a brilliant noise - I love that noise!

There's no fucking WAY you're my future wife, cunt.

Dr Who
(, Thu 15 Jul 2010, 14:38, 3 replies)
Drunk as feck once stumbling into a chip shop
"Um...portion of chips please, and a round oval pie."

The girl got halfway to where the pies were stored then turned around with a look of complete confusion on her face.

I still ate pie though. Cos I was a drunk fatty.
(, Thu 15 Jul 2010, 14:37, Reply)
Wiring a plug
"You mean to tell me brown's live?"

I genuinely thought it was the stripy one, by way of a warning.

It's a wonder I've survived this long.

I can also exclusively reveal that when you plug yourself directly into the mains, you fall off the ladder and make a sound almost exactly like Brian Blessed gargling Tabasco. So now you know.
(, Thu 15 Jul 2010, 14:33, 3 replies)
my mate
was taking a tree down in his back garden. Sawing through a branch.

Not Doing it wrong you say?

he was sitting on the branch at the time.

yup, one broken nose and a broken arm later....
(, Thu 15 Jul 2010, 14:28, Reply)
Culinary disaster
Quite a while ago, in another phase of my life when I'd just started working on a cruise ship, the captain invited me and other new starters for dinner at his table. The standard welcoming procedure, and all that. Of course, instead of making me feel welcome, I totally bricked it. Well and truly. I dove headlong in to books of etiquette, memorised jokes that weren't dirty and were actually quite funny, and obsessively polished my shoes. I was so desparate to make a good impression I think I obsessed over the dinner more than I did my job- occasionally to the dereliction of my duties. Nothing too bad though.

And then came the evening of the dinner. I looked the bees knees, the cat's whiskers, and every animals favourite body part. I was positively gleaming. I arrived at the dinner with the other new starters, all as nervous as each other. We all remembered the most basis of dining etiquette- starting at the outside and working your way in with the cutlery, not being greedy with the bread rolls. It was going swimmingly. Then came the starters- soup. Which was cold! I absolutely hate cold soup. So when I asked the waiter to have it warmed up and bring it back, I should have taken notice of the fact he looked at me like I was something he'd scraped from the bottom of his shoe. But he brought it back, looking even snootier than he managed before.

I later found out gazpacho soup is meant to be served cold.

I've been beating myself up for years over that, and occasionally still wake up screaming.
(, Thu 15 Jul 2010, 14:26, 24 replies)
When a Young, Confused Banking Monkey...
For a long time I didn't work out what it meant when people wrote (I'll write this as I saw it) cia on their transaction strips.

'Pay into the CIA? Wierdness!' I thought, as I input this information on their statement.

You've probably spotted my error already, but it was only a good few weeks later when I realised. A rather precise customer wrote it down in a clearer fashion than the usual hurried customer: c|a


So, if you had a statement back around 1998 saying you were paying money to the CIA rather than into your Current Account, er, sorry about that...
(, Thu 15 Jul 2010, 14:17, Reply)
Ordering a Caesar Salad
"Oh, but I want the honey mustard dressing on it"

I'm such a dumbass.
(, Thu 15 Jul 2010, 14:15, Reply)
A while ago I had problems with a very strange high pitched noise eminating from the bathroom.
I have a small extractor fan above a small window above the toilet. Every time the high pitched whining started I went into the bathroom and listened. I figured it was coming from the extractor fan so I took the cover off, cleaned it with the hoover attachement and replaced the cover. After a while the noise started again. It took me a few days of trying to figure out what was happening to make the noise in the fan when eventually I gave up, took the cover off again and took out the wires so it wouldn't work, (it came on when the light was turned on), and replaced the cover.

A few days later, much to my dismay, the noise started again and it turned out it was the cistern making the noise due to water pressure.

Months later it still makes a noise. I daren't mess with the plumbing in case I really fuck it up.
(, Thu 15 Jul 2010, 14:12, 1 reply)
Inspired by FootofTim
I hold my fork in a fist, like I'm stabbing my food like some sort of Neanderthal.

I've tried it the 'normal' way, but it feels so unnatural.
(, Thu 15 Jul 2010, 14:11, Reply)
When I write, I hold my pen in a fist, I've tried doing it the normal way but it just feels wrong.
(, Thu 15 Jul 2010, 14:07, Reply)
I went to the Fat Duck restaurant
with a few friends. They had a cancellation. It was all very tasty but a bit confusing, with so many different plates and bowls and spoons etc.
One of the dishes was a little scallop with some sauce, on a bed of rice on a tiny porcelain plate. One of the girls in the group stared at her serving for a few moments, looking like she was trying to work something out; then popped the whole lot in her mouth and swallowed it, little plate and all.
(, Thu 15 Jul 2010, 13:59, 5 replies)
There are some things you should never ask.

(, Thu 15 Jul 2010, 13:57, 7 replies)
Air Conditioning fail
I've recently come back from a week in Turkey and whilst there bumped into a lovely chap, John, and his wife Val. A retired couple but good company for a poolside beer. Having been at the hotel 4 days we were having a chat about how the holiday was going with everyone agreeing we'd found a bit of a bargain paradise. That's when John chips in with "It's just a shame about having to pay for the air conditioning, you'd have thought that would be part of the all-inclusive".

This leads to puzzled looks from me and the missus.

"I'm certain it is included?"

"No mate, I put it on on the first night here and the reading was 20 euro. Was only on for half hour but when I woke up it was showing 25 Euro".

"Does your aircon control sort of look like a mobile phone handset, mounted to the wall?"


"in a plastic case so you can only have it on or off, not adjust any of the other settings?"


"yeah mate, same as ours... that reading's 20 *degrees* not 20 Euro!"


The poor sods had been sweltering for four days!
(, Thu 15 Jul 2010, 13:53, Reply)
Why DO the lids of things in tubes...
...have a recessed pointy bit built into them?

Hitherto, I have never ever had to ponder this. But now - now - I must know, before it drives me mad!
(, Thu 15 Jul 2010, 13:48, 21 replies)
So erm yeah, my entire work life I've been getting it wrong I think.

I started working at 12, as a paper boy and couldn't understand how I got that right but then again, it was just delivering news papers to people...

From there I've been doing lots of admin, lovely admin and here? I got it wrong by being [b]too efficient[/b] I tells ya. Nothing like being told by your manager to slow down and let the other people in the office catch up. Whoops.

Now at the ripe old age of 27-goingon-21 my employers got it wrong again... They wanted someone who was independent, STRONG, fearless and capable of reaching targets. But instead they got someone who can't be arsed, reads b3ta most of the day and manages to reach his targets by accident.

Yes, I definitly think that work is doing it wrong... By hiring me...
(, Thu 15 Jul 2010, 13:47, 2 replies)
She tells me that every time.

(, Thu 15 Jul 2010, 13:42, Reply)
When i was younger...
...much younger, i hasten to add, a friend of mine had the soundtrack to 'Close Encounters of the Third Kind' on vinyl.

I didn't say anything, but wondered how i'd failed to see 'Close encounters of the first and second kind' at the cinema.
(, Thu 15 Jul 2010, 13:38, 8 replies)
I can't tie my shoes up properly
I can only do the bunny ears way :(

Fuck you loop swoop and pull
(, Thu 15 Jul 2010, 13:30, 7 replies)
I once cut my finger on a chainsaw
Dad said I'd be ok if I was wearing gloves. I took them off for a moment, thinking I'd finished chopping up the tree. Then I saw one of the logs needed a twig trimming. So I trimmed it. And my hand slipped as the chain was slowing down. This is not the way one is meant to use a chainsaw.

No worse than catching it on a sharp edge of anything else really. But had the chain been moving even slightly faster, I'd have lost the finger, and it would have taken me longer to type this. And I wouldn't be third.
(, Thu 15 Jul 2010, 13:28, Reply)
Damn, second...
I'm obviously posting wrong if all I can ever manage is second....
(, Thu 15 Jul 2010, 13:28, Reply)
(, Thu 15 Jul 2010, 13:28, Reply)

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