Dumb things you have done

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#1

Me.

Making two long stories short.

Episode 1: Seriously and justifiably pissed off, I slammed a few filing cabinet drawers shut with my hands which popped one drawer out at the bottom which I slammed shut with my foot, which drawer came out again so I really slammed it shut with my foot. I spent the next few weeks, on holiday which is one of the reasons I was so pissed off by the event that threatened to destroy my holiday that I kicked the drawer shut, limping around with a painful foot.

Episode 2: I bought a water slide for the kids which was a strip of plastic about 10 yards long laid on the ground and to which a hose was attached to keep it wet with a film of water upon which to slide. I had a couple of gentle goes on it and it was fun. So, aged only about 50 at the time and therefore fairly immature, I got the missus out to see how good it (= ‘I’) was.

As a normal bloke I naturally wanted to impress the sheilas, primarily being She Whose Name I Dare Not Speak (also known as Mrs RS*), so rather than emulating the gentle dives I had done in the experimental phase when she wasn’t watching I naturally did a running high dive onto the water slide. It would have been great if I was diving into a deep pool, instead of hard ground under a wet plastic sheet. After landing on my chest and knowing instantly that I had damaged something important, apart from my pride, and after my deeply concerned missus stopped laughing long enough to haul her fat arse off the ground and enquire after my demonstrably declining health while I was rolling around on the grass moaning, I went to a doctor a few days later as I was finding it increasingly hard to breathe. Also to lie down, sleep, and other minor events. He said there was nothing wrong with me. This came from the same clinic that said my 12 year old son was alright after being hit on the head by his surfboard, and then stitched the wound when I took my son back a couple of hours later after I felt that the blood still running down my son’s head and a gaping scalp wound indicated something other than being ‘alright’.

Subsequent medical investigations for other purposes have revealed that on Episode 1 I broke my foot in several places and on Episode 2 I broke several ribs.

#2

insert golf clapping here

Gj RS*, those sound like things my friend and I have done, too bad we didn’t have my video camera with us…

#3

Geez, you should drink more milk, old bones break easily, as you have proven yourself. :mrgreen:

Thank god I’ve never done something dumb…

Oh, right.

There was that one time when I thought it was a great idea to try to balance on a football (Soccer for Yanks) at my local pool. My sense of balance betrayed me, resulting in me hitting my head at the corner of the pool and having to get a couple of stitches at the back of it.

Or the other time, when I thought it was a great opportunity to cross the street. Around 5 seconds later I rode along for roughly 20-30m on an Audi’s hood at 50km/h… Oddly enough I only dislocated my right shoulder, got a couple of bruises and a black eye.

#4

When in command of a Saracen armoured car on a long haul, was racing the Saracen ahead along a narrow country road. Told the driver to overtake the Saracen ahead just as an off-duty cop was overtaking us in his privately owned audi. Audi was a complete right-off and said cop was completely pissed-off. :slight_smile:

#5

Getting uproariously pissed for the first time was fairly dumb, considering I drank about 20 beers. I remember being very sick and couldn’t quite get my feet to connect with my brain.

Next morning in the shower I couldn’t understand the large number of bruises on my body and legs. Apparently when i finally passed out my mates tried to wake me up by belting me with cricket stumps:shock:

digger:lol:

#6

Had a number of similar experiences. One that comes to mind is getting up from my spinning pit, after a night down Bugis Street, Singapore, went outside and undid my jeans for a piss (as I’d been too pissed to take them off). Jeans fell about my ankles, I collapsed forward into said piss, and to top it all, I woke in the morning with my arse smuthered in mosquito bites. :slight_smile:

#7

Aw jeez… Its hard to follow that up, but I think my drunken football (soccer) story is worth a grin, anyway.

About half a dozen mates and I were out drinking a couple of years ago, and at about 3am, we got the glorious idea to walk up to the local football ground and just play a match or two.

I can’t recall a lot the match itself, though I’m pretty sure that we actually managed to start a pretty fun match, considering we were all wasted.
The next morning, when we woke up on the field, two of us had a broken leg, one a black eye and almost everybody bruises.
I was told that the two broken legs occurred when two of us tried to kick the ball, both missed, and rather hit each others legs with full force.
I still can’t imagine how they managed to fall asleep…

#8

“Bizarre drinking accidents/mistakes”, you could fill a seperate thread with it!:lol:

#9

You probably could. But why go through the hassle if this thread covers it just fine? :smiley:

#10

Ahhh! Spew stories.

Way back when I was young, a mate of a mate got pissed at a party and spewed upstairs. But he kept it in his mouth as he rushed for the door to have a real big spew. His progress was impeded by lots of people sitting on the stairs. He was going alright until he got about halfway down the stairs, with lots of people still sitting below him and others gathered around the bottom of the stairs.

And then he sneezed.

#11

As ayoung 17 yearold, I went to Ipswich with a few marras as it was 21st birthday of one of them. He couldn’t handle the booze (neither could I), so when he left all of these glasses of scotch lined up on the bar at the end of the evening, I downed the lot. On the way back sitting in the middle of four blokes in the back seat of an Austin A30, my stomach decided to evacuate…no chance of getting to the window… I tried to hold it but fel;t myself beginning to choke, and then it all spumed ut, all over the place. I continued for some tiem with no one able to get out of the way. When we got back to barracks, the chaps dragged me through the window of the car and through me in the cold shower - fully dressed, naturally. Of course I thought it all rather smashing - I was laughing along quite merrily. The next morning, I went to help me marra clean up his car…by now he’d completed most of it so when I asked if he needed a hand, he said “…could do with a hand getting the puke out of the ashtrays, marra!” :lol:

Have many of those boy-to-man, growing up experiences, but I doubt you want to hear them…how about the ‘chicks stories’ for a change? :slight_smile:

#12

We were on our way back to the JWS in Johore, up country from Singapore. Pissed out of our heads we were egging on the cab driver to go faster. The cab took a bend too wide, hit a concrete pillar and rolled back across the road to the other side. I immediately curled up in a ball in the back (in the middle again), and after turning over few times, and bouncing us about in the process, the car began to slowly settle itself the right way up. Unfortunately, as I began to uncurl myself the car tipped over a bloody great bank and began rolling down it at a bloody great speed. I came about to find myself lying in some wet grass about thirty feet down the bank. The others began to emerge from the darkness, including the driver. We all sat on the top of the bank waiting for the car, which was about sixty feet below on the edge of the Ulu, to explode, when we noticed one of our number was missing. Suddenly he emerged from the car. Foruntately it hadn’t exploded but the roof was completely flat against the body. Disappointed that it didn’t explode, we flagged down another cab which was returning to Singapore, and continued on our way with the driver of the first cab as an extra passenger - none of us had any injuries beyond being a little dazed, but that might have been as a result the amount of Tigers we’d consumed. :slight_smile:

#13

Nah, spew stories tend to be funnier, with pain that doesn’t last as long as sheila stuff.

Mate of mine went to a bush wedding where his lot of guests were quartered at a farmhouse with heaps of other guests.

The morning after a liberally alcoholic wedding reception my mate and some of the sore heads were assembled in the kitchen, doing the usual post-pissup attempts to recall the night before. Remembering that this is early 1970s when dimmer switches might have been about to be the next big invention, one of the blokes said something like

"You know, this farmhouse doesn’t seem anything flash, but I reckon the bloke who owns it must be some sort of electrical genius. I woke up last night and just managed to get the back door open in time to spew outside, and the outside light came on as soon as I opened the door.’

His mates were suitably impressed and, just as they were starting to discuss how an external light might be turned on by opening the back door, the farmer’s wife made a horrible noise.

She had just opened the fridge.

#14

When I was working in the shearing sheds another bloke and I got usefully pissed in a country town and were picked up by another bloke who was stone cold sober.

As the sober bloke was driving us back to the shed some miles from town he managed to flip his car end over end down the road. The three of us managed to survive without lasting damage, along with a dozen mostly unbroken bottles of beer in a carton beside me in the back seat. I like to think that I instinctively protected this precious cargo as we cartwheeled down the road, before I got knocked out.

Anyway, I was the only one who was hurt beyond some cuts and bruises. I came to in a pretty groggy and inanimate state to hear my concerned companions discussing what they thought was my unconscious body and the blood oozing from my head and whether I’m alive or dying. At that stage I’m mostly concerned with what I’ve decided is a ruptured kidney but is just a major calamity to major muscles in the kidney region, and I’m thinking it would be nice if they tried to save me.

One of my mates says something comforting, like

“RS looks like shit. I think he’s fucked. We’d better get him out of the car.”

I’m thinking that this bloke is on the ball, but I can’t actually speak to them at that stage as, for the only time in my life, my mouth won’t work. But it looks like they’re going to rescue me, when Sober Driver the Fucking Arsehole says

“No. We’ve got to get rid of the grog before the cops come.”

So the pair of bastards steal my grog and rush off into a paddock and dump it. Why? The driver was sober. No risk of cop action. Never satisfactorily explained, apart from a guilty conscience for managing to flip his car down a clear road for no good reason.

Some considerable time later, after I’ve hurt myself again by falling down while trying to locate my stolen grog in the dark, a car arrives and Good Samaritans load us up to take us to hospital. Only it goes wrong when they start to head in the wrong direction and all three of us wounded waifs decide hysterically that they’re kidnapping us.

Until we work out, with assistance from the Good Samaritans, that we’ve been turned through 180 degrees as our car flipped down the road and the direction it’s facing is actually the direction we came from.

Being a Good Samaritan rescuing drunken arseholes is a thankless task.

#15

All of it makes perfect sense to me, RS, it’s a simple matter of the individual perspective. :slight_smile:

#16

Yes, it all made sense to me at the time, apart from not being able to find my stolen grog and those bloody Good Samaritans trying to kidnap us. :wink: :smiley:

#17

Yeah, its always awkward when you (falsely) think someone tried to kidnap you… :smiley:

Oddly enough, that seems to happen more often than one would expect, doesn’t it? :neutral:

#18

Well, you can insert (falsely) :wink: but I’m still not convinced that the Good Samaritans ‘saved’ us by chance. There were some bright lights in the sky that night, several of which could have been spaceships, which if they had deployed their tractor beams in our direction would explain the otherwise inexplicable cartwheeling of our car down the road and the even more remarkable appearance of the Good Samaritans at exactly that point on the planet.

No, I didn’t expect it more than once in a lifetime and, so far, that is exactly the ratio. :wink: :smiley:

#19

When I turned 25 a few of my football mates took me on a pub crawl, which was all very fine until we started getting legless. We left one pub and I fell down three flights of stairs, the only body contact I made was tripping on the top step and kissing the bottom step.

So somewhat bloodied we headed home, eight of us in a trusty, rusty Kingswood. All was fine till the next morning when Ryan’s missus started ringing everyone as he hadn’t returned home. Ginger, the driver swore black and blue he dropped Ryan off, so his missus started ringing hospitals and cop shops in search of her errent husband.

Alarm bells began to ring and by 2PM a large manhunt had begun for our missing team mate. Ginger decides to drive around, hops in the car and hears a muffled moaning. He searches high and low but finds nothing, before trying to start the car again. More moaning. Ginger gets out, scratches his head and his nuts in confusion and realizes the moaning is coming from an empty back seat.

A few moments later it dawns on him and he opens the boot to find a very dehydrated, smelly and confused Ryan.

digger

#20

That’s worrying! I remember another great Australian whose rest in a car after excessive consum of alcoholic beverages ended fatally…