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» Caught!

In my first year of university
... flatmate burst into the room in the middle of my first shag of freshers week, then danced about the bed making a Zoidberg noise.
(Thu 3rd Jun 2010, 17:43, More)

» Caught!

Year 10
My friend and I managed to smuggle some soft porn into English class. Sitting at the back, giggling and feeling very pleased with our cunning plan of hiding it under the desk- suddenly, the sound of a throat being cleared behind us. Slowly turning around, we see Mr. English Teacher, a 6 ft 3 body-builder type, is standing right there, and demands to see what we find so funny. Shamefaced, we hand it over. He stares for a long time. Then he hands it back to us and asks quietly, have we finished our work?
"Yes, Mr. English Teacher sir."
"Well, carry on then."
(Mon 7th Jun 2010, 22:54, More)

» Caught!

Alice just found this pool of water...
When I was about eight years old, I was best friends with two sisters- Alice and Wendy- who lived a few doors down, and our playground was a half-built housing development nearby. We terrorised the neighbourhood: three little half-feral tomboys armed with misunderstood jokes gleaned from Eurotrash and South Park and a stockpile of raided tools from the building site. I still have a scar down my back from getting stuck in a hole in the roof of the builder's mobile, while trying to steal their crisps and scrawl a swear on the wall. That's the kind of thing we did... all pretty innocent by today's standards.

One hot July day we were really bored and had ventured further into the development than usual, about a 45 minute walk from our houses, and after losing track of time Alice and I realised we really, really needed to pee. It simply couldn't wait till we got home, and besides we thought it would be hilarious to piss in someone's bedroom-to-be, so we went into one of the half-built houses and squatted in the corner. After I'd been, Wendy and I kept watch at each of the windows for Alice, and just as she was pulling down her pants suddenly a little face popped up at my window and said "Hello!"
I jumped and tensed, but it was some other kid, too young to be a threat from one of the other gangs. He was craning his neck trying to see past me while Alice yanked her shorts up so fast she probably got a wedgie. "Er, what are you doing?" he asks, staring at the dark wet patch seeping along the floor.

It was then that I came up with a wonderfully wicked excuse.

"Oh, um, Alice here just found this puddle and wanted to paddle in it!" I grinned, staring meaningfully at poor Alice. At this point I should mention that we were barefoot, as our trainers were covered with the wet cement we'd been jumping in earlier. Alice was then obliged- to give my story some credibility- to dance, smiling, in a pool of my urine. The kid looked confused for a moment, then ran off without a word. Wendy and I choked laughing as Alice scraped her feet along the concrete. She later got her revenge by hiding our trainers so we had to walk home in our bare feet.
(Sat 5th Jun 2010, 13:58, More)

» Cars

Heard this story ages ago...
Can't remember where, but apparently it's true...

A number of years ago the emergency services somewhere in America received a panicked call from a woman in her car in a supermarket parking lot. She claimed that she'd been shot in the back of the head, and her brains were coming out, and she was holding them in with her hand. This was obviously a very disturbing report- not to mention extremely unusual- so an ambulance was sent right away. When they got there, the woman was shocked by their reaction of laughing.

What had happened was that she had done some light shopping, left it in the car and gone off for a few hours. It was a very hot day, and she hadn't left any windows open so the heat built up considerably. One of the things she had bought was a tin of pre-prepared cookie dough. Cookie dough tends to expand in the heat, and was accumulating a lot of pressure in the tin. When she got back in the car, the vibration of closing the door had caused the lid of the tin- complete with wad of dough- to shoot off like a bullet, strike her in the back of the head, and leave behind a sticky, warm, gooey mass. The pain made her think she'd been shot, and you can imagine her panic when she put her hand to the back of her head. So she sat there immobile lest she let her brains fall out.
Must've been a sight for the ambulance men!
(Mon 26th Apr 2010, 19:14, More)

» Grandparents

Practical jokes
Back when I was in primary school, I used to stay at my grandparents' house in the country during the summer holidays when my folks were at work. Now, all those weeks off with nothing but Pong for amusement (this makes me sound older than I am- it was in fact the early 90's- but hence my point is made) were rather dull for my young brain, so I decided to engage it in an infinitely more worthy and amusing activity: grandparent baiting.

I spent long hours concocting (in hindsight rather brilliant) practical jokes. Some were quick and nasty, such as luring poor gran into the bath to turn the temperature of the shower up, which I allegedly couldn't reach, while waiting in the wings for the precise moment to pull the power cord and see her soaked (this worked particularly well just after she'd just had her perm done). Another involved setting the plates inside the cupboard on a sheet of cardboard with a length of string taped to it, then carefully tying the other end of the string to the outer handle so that when the door was opened...

However, true genius was tested in the long game.

The most memorable of these has stuck in my mind as it was one of the few instances where my frankly obvious input was not suspected. One afternoon when the grandfolks were out gardening, I sneaked into their normally off-limits bedroom and had a good look around. I spotted the alarm clock: as good a start as any. The normal alarm time of 7am was put back to 2am. Then the alarm clock was then positioned behind the radiator.
I noticed that the lightswitch was some distance from the bed, and my grandpa kept a torch on the bedside table in case there was ever a power cut (it was very, very dark in the country at night). The batteries came out of the torch and put into gran's pillowcase. Then, that not being quite good enough, the torch went under the mattress for good measure. I left the room and cackled my pleasure.

That night I was in a particularly gleeful mood, but my parents only found out why in the morning...

My gran called at 7. She said she had had a terrible night. For a start, the bed felt terribly uncomfortable and she found it hard to get to sleep. Then, at 2am, the alarm clock had gone off for some reason, and reaching for the torch she found it was gone. Something was rolling around the bed- some batteries. Confused, the alarm clock still shrilly ringing, she fumbled for it on the table. It wasn't there. Had to get up and turn on the bright light... still no sign of the alarm clock. Eventually the strange vibrating quality to its ringing pointed to the radiator. How very odd. But anyway, she was terribly sorry, but she was too tired to take me today. My mum would have to take some leave and look after me at home. Grandpa must've been changing the batteries in the alarm clock and set it on the windowsill, where the curtains had knocked it behind the radiator. No sign of the torch though.

My mum was furious, but unable to prove anything as confessions were not forthcoming. After a day carousing around the street with my friends and eating ice-cream, I returned to the Grandparents' house, where I carefully retrieved the torch and returned it to its rightful place. To this day they still don't know it was me.
(Sun 5th Jun 2011, 19:49, More)
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