Tell a true but embarrassing/rediculous/disgusting story
- Thread starter Buck Fever
- Start date
I got one...about 10 years ago, less than a year out of college, I transferred within my company to a different town. Parents came to my apartment to help move my stuff, which at the time could all fit inside my pickup truck and their two vehicles (life was so simple back then... 
). We saved the 25-year-old sleeper sofa for last, since it was godawful heavy and a big pain in the a-hole to move. Together my dad and I struggled to get it out the door and down a flight of stairs and into their van. So we got it loaded and walked back to my apartment, which was now completely empty and eerily quiet...which in the company of my chatty mother is pretty abnormal. It took me about two seconds to figure out her silence. Since the sleeper sofa was queen-sized, it was a better alternative to the single-size mattress in the bedroom when the GF visited. My mom had had several minutes by herself to examine the square-inch-sized wrapper lying on the floor where the sofa had been. There was nothing for me to do but sheepishly pick it up and stuff it into my pocket, all the while thinking thank god it was just the wrapper.
). We saved the 25-year-old sleeper sofa for last, since it was godawful heavy and a big pain in the a-hole to move. Together my dad and I struggled to get it out the door and down a flight of stairs and into their van. So we got it loaded and walked back to my apartment, which was now completely empty and eerily quiet...which in the company of my chatty mother is pretty abnormal. It took me about two seconds to figure out her silence. Since the sleeper sofa was queen-sized, it was a better alternative to the single-size mattress in the bedroom when the GF visited. My mom had had several minutes by herself to examine the square-inch-sized wrapper lying on the floor where the sofa had been. There was nothing for me to do but sheepishly pick it up and stuff it into my pocket, all the while thinking thank god it was just the wrapper.
stosh said "I'm going to ride at _______".
stosh never showed.
Repeat.
stosh never showed.
Repeat.
johnbryanpeters said:stosh said "I'm going to ride at _______".
stosh never showed.
Repeat.
maybe he was
stosh said:
Once upon a time Buck spelled "ridiculous" incorrectly. My seven year old daughter looked at his post and made fun of him, then spelled the word the right way.
stosh said:
Actually, I just showed her the title...but she does make fun of adults who can't spell words like 'ridiculous' and 'definitely' the proper way. Seriously, those who can't spell as well as a 7 year old kid, or at least use spell-check(I'd say at least 35% of the RM members fall into this category), should be pretty embarrassed.
Colonoscopy... need I say more.
you have a daughter?El Jefe said:
color me surprised.
Here's mine...
I was at this party once many moons ago, and this girl I know grabbed my arm and pulled me into my buddy Chris's bedroom. We were both pretty well tanked at this point and proceeded to make-out and whatnot... So things got pretty hot and heavy and she pushes me down on the bed and starts to remove my Levis. She slides up along side me and whispered in my ear, "Can I give you a b*** j**?" Well, as drunk as she was, I was twice as bad and all I could get out was... "I don't care."
That was the wrong answer apparently. Within 30 seconds she was up and out of the room slamming the door behind her.
I was at this party once many moons ago, and this girl I know grabbed my arm and pulled me into my buddy Chris's bedroom. We were both pretty well tanked at this point and proceeded to make-out and whatnot... So things got pretty hot and heavy and she pushes me down on the bed and starts to remove my Levis. She slides up along side me and whispered in my ear, "Can I give you a b*** j**?" Well, as drunk as she was, I was twice as bad and all I could get out was... "I don't care."
That was the wrong answer apparently. Within 30 seconds she was up and out of the room slamming the door behind her.
Yep, I have a 7 year old daughter, and I share custody of her with my ex-wife. While there are certain more adult type activities in which I engage (you know, drinking, dating strippers, etc...) of which the kiddo has no knowledge, she does know I'm kind of a nut when I throw my leg over a bike. When she was younger, she used to tell me "daddy, you get a lot of owies." These days she just shakes her head and says, "just try not to crash this time, OK?" That's my girl.narlus said:
i went for a colonoscopy once. when i was there in the room the doctor asked if i minded if the 2 med students that were at his office "observed" the procedure while he performed it. I was laying there just wanting to get it over with and said sure if they wanna look at the inside of my ass on a tv screen then thats cool i would be more than honored to be their first. Maybe i would become the inner ass by which all inner asses will be measured for the rest of their career. Needless to say one of them was a hot girl when they came in the room.the other was a very flamboyant kind of guy.anyway i layed there on the table while the doctor gave them the nickel tour and instructional seminar on running stuff up my butt.
Telling stories that make you look like a stud or playa don't count! That's not embarrasing!
Embarrassing is working and working and working on a hot girl
for a protracted period of time...getting her to FINALLY agree to go on a date with you :dancing: ...drinking a whole lot of beer with her at a bar 
neaky: ...making a sexual overture THAT SHE ACTUALLY AGREES TO 
ink: ...racing 45 minutes out of your way to follow her back to her place positively dripping with anticipation...drinking tequila and burning buddha with her on the couch for another half hour to prime the pump :evil: ...running after her up the stairs to find her BUCK NAKED and climbing into her heated waterbed...going down on her and making her come twice both orally and manually :devil: ...having her then swallow your peni$ like a lioness and suck you off like crazy...and then realizing TO YOUR ABSOLUTE HORROR 
that you are so mindbendingly drunk that you cannot possibly get aroused enough to sink the pink because you have no feeling left in your body 
...
Now THAT would be embarrassing if it actually happened to someone.: :mumble:
Embarrassing is working and working and working on a hot girl
for a protracted period of time...getting her to FINALLY agree to go on a date with you :dancing: ...drinking a whole lot of beer with her at a bar neaky: ...making a sexual overture THAT SHE ACTUALLY AGREES TO ink: ...racing 45 minutes out of your way to follow her back to her place positively dripping with anticipation...drinking tequila and burning buddha with her on the couch for another half hour to prime the pump :evil: ...running after her up the stairs to find her BUCK NAKED and climbing into her heated waterbed...going down on her and making her come twice both orally and manually :devil: ...having her then swallow your peni$ like a lioness and suck you off like crazy...and then realizing TO YOUR ABSOLUTE HORROR that you are so mindbendingly drunk that you cannot possibly get aroused enough to sink the pink because you have no feeling left in your body ...Now THAT would be embarrassing if it actually happened to someone.
: :mumble:
From now on, whenever konabumm starts a story, LL gets to finish itllkoolkeg said:Telling stories that make you look like a stud or playa don't count! That's not embarrasing!
...
Now THAT would be embarrassing if it actually happened to someone.
Yours truly. Almost verbatim too.llkoolkeg said:Telling stories that make you look like a stud or playa don't count! That's not embarrasing!
Embarrassing is working and working and working on a hot girl
Now THAT would be embarrassing if it actually happened to someone.
I started a thread once and misspelled the word 'ridiculous' and Jeff's seven year old daughter made fun of me. It was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life and showcased my dependence on spell check.El Jefe said:
I've corrected it. Thanks for pointing out my ignorance.
F.Beaver
About a year ago, I was leaving my fiancées apartment to go to work. I dont typically stay there during the week as she lives in Frederick and I split my time between my two offices in D.C. and Fairfax. Its around a 50 mile one-way journey from FR to FX and anyone who has done it at any time between 6AM and 10AM can attest, its total hell.
Well, the trooper that she is, she woke up at 5AM with me and distracted me before I could make it out the door. She made up for making me late by preparing a lunch for me as I collected my things to head to work.
While sitting in traffic on 270, I started fumbling through the lunch bag she packed for me and found a quart sized Ziplock bag of dried apricot halves. Not being one to control my impulses terribly well, I started consuming bite after bite after bite. An hour later, I was still on 270 having only made it as far as Germantown (about 20 miles). By the time I finally made it to the beltway, I had eaten the entire bag of dried apricots and I still had about 20 more miles of beltway and a stint on 66 before I made it to work.
It first happened about an hour later as I was exiting onto 66. At first I thought I just had to cut a massive fart; that was until I felt the moist heat trying to slip out. The next 20 minutes were possibly 20 of the most excruciatingly painful minutes of my life as I clenched as hard as I possibly could all the while pushing myself back in my seat and trying to manage the intense gurgling pressure building in my gut.
Its probably important to note that my FX office consists of only three small rooms sharing one bathroom. On that particular day, I had three scheduled meetings between 10 and 1 to present our software to potential customers.
I finally pulled into the parking lot, burst into the office, dropping my briefcase, ran into the bathroom and crapped my brains out for the next 15 minutes, literally creating an underwater mountain. I did this another ten times or so throughout the day having to excuse myself from my meetings multiple times, each time trying in vain to somehow cover up my explosive pooing by running water, turning on the fan, flushing the toilet multiple times whatever I could do to shield the sound from my meeting attendees and five co-workers. We didnt land any new clients that day. At least the bathroom smelled like apricots.
Well, the trooper that she is, she woke up at 5AM with me and distracted me before I could make it out the door. She made up for making me late by preparing a lunch for me as I collected my things to head to work.
While sitting in traffic on 270, I started fumbling through the lunch bag she packed for me and found a quart sized Ziplock bag of dried apricot halves. Not being one to control my impulses terribly well, I started consuming bite after bite after bite. An hour later, I was still on 270 having only made it as far as Germantown (about 20 miles). By the time I finally made it to the beltway, I had eaten the entire bag of dried apricots and I still had about 20 more miles of beltway and a stint on 66 before I made it to work.
It first happened about an hour later as I was exiting onto 66. At first I thought I just had to cut a massive fart; that was until I felt the moist heat trying to slip out. The next 20 minutes were possibly 20 of the most excruciatingly painful minutes of my life as I clenched as hard as I possibly could all the while pushing myself back in my seat and trying to manage the intense gurgling pressure building in my gut.
Its probably important to note that my FX office consists of only three small rooms sharing one bathroom. On that particular day, I had three scheduled meetings between 10 and 1 to present our software to potential customers.
I finally pulled into the parking lot, burst into the office, dropping my briefcase, ran into the bathroom and crapped my brains out for the next 15 minutes, literally creating an underwater mountain. I did this another ten times or so throughout the day having to excuse myself from my meetings multiple times, each time trying in vain to somehow cover up my explosive pooing by running water, turning on the fan, flushing the toilet multiple times whatever I could do to shield the sound from my meeting attendees and five co-workers. We didnt land any new clients that day. At least the bathroom smelled like apricots.
Buck Fever said:
you win!
Oh god...HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! You're going to fit in just fine around here!Buck Fever said:
I did something similar...my cousin is gay...he's a hairdresser...and this was back in the late 80's and I wanted my hair to look like Bon Jovi's...and he was over at our house and I was like hey I want my hair cut like Jon Bon Jovi...and he was like who is he? and I was like oh man...he's a HUGE rock star! and I turned on mtv and waited for a bon jovi video to come on cuz they were on mtv every 5 minutes...and finally a bon jovi video comes on and I go THERE HE IS! and right at the moment my cousin turned his head they flashed that guy...bass player, Alec John Such...total dork, and I go not that fag his hair is gay...HAHAHA!mack said:One time my sister had this friend over, and he was being cool. Then he did somthing stupid, i dont remember i was 12, and i rightly called him a "fag". Turns out he was gay...
Buck, I had a similar experience while traveling.Just riding along thinking it's just gas and .Now i'm driving,leanin' to one side and holding my stomach, in desperate search of a restroom.Upon the horizon the lights of the BP store,which is CLOSED.Now i'm back on the road continuing my quest for a restroom.Finally I find a store that is open.I come skiddin' to a stop at the front door,sling my door open and go charging in the store.By this time i'm sweating,pale,and in serious pain.I looked at the young girl behind the counter and uttered"bathroom?".She pointed to directly behind her so i came around the counter and went in.What happened next is impossible to put into words,there was noises that came from me that i'm sure no human has ever made before and the smell was,well......bad.Just as I was gettin up I noticed that the door liked about 6 inches reaching the floor!!!!!!!!!!!!!!I now realize that the yong lady behind the counter has heard and smelt everything!I mustered my courage and walked out see her staring with jaw dropped (along with a couple on the other side of the counter).She said"You alright mister?".
.Now i'm driving,leanin' to one side and holding my stomach, in desperate search of a restroom.Upon the horizon the lights of the BP store,which is CLOSED.Now i'm back on the road continuing my quest for a restroom.Finally I find a store that is open.I come skiddin' to a stop at the front door,sling my door open and go charging in the store.By this time i'm sweating,pale,and in serious pain.I looked at the young girl behind the counter and uttered"bathroom?".She pointed to directly behind her so i came around the counter and went in.What happened next is impossible to put into words,there was noises that came from me that i'm sure no human has ever made before and the smell was,well......bad.Just as I was gettin up I noticed that the door liked about 6 inches reaching the floor!!!!!!!!!!!!!!I now realize that the yong lady behind the counter has heard and smelt everything!I mustered my courage and walked out see her staring with jaw dropped (along with a couple on the other side of the counter).She said"You alright mister?".
That's hilarious. Such a feeling of dire helplessness.GravityFreakTJ said:
An ex, and current great friend, (incidentally from the poison ivy story) had a similar situation last year too. She and her boyfriend were driving back to B-More from DC one night and she had a "code two" emergency. They couldn't find anywhere to stop that had an open bathroom, so they stopped at a grocery store. She ran in and asked to use the bathroom, was told that it wasn't for public use, so she ran through the double doors in the back and dropped it right there on the floor.
I was dumbfounded when she told me. I just can't imagine my cute as a button, 95lb great friend, pinching a loaf on the floor of the back room of some supermarket in Columbia.
i was taking a crap in the ladies' room this summer in Cuba, NM when a lady walked in and plopped down in the stall next to me. i cut 'it' short, wiped as fast as possible, and got out of there asap. another time, somewhere in Oregon, i did my business, clogged the toiled, washed my hands, opened the door, and standing there was an older lady waiting (it was the only restroom).
went to a party with a girl i thought was fairly cute...trying to score some points with her. ended up drinking way to much. as we were leaving, i sat on some steps and puked. a lot. last time her and i hung out. last time i drank that much, too. that's all i remember right now.
went to a party with a girl i thought was fairly cute...trying to score some points with her. ended up drinking way to much. as we were leaving, i sat on some steps and puked. a lot. last time her and i hung out. last time i drank that much, too. that's all i remember right now.
As did I - '95 ish biking across Martha's Vinyard (Island off of MA)for a weekend with a co-worker that I was hot for and her friends. There was 3 girls and 2 guys (self included) just biking, drinking, hanging on the beach... all and all a good trip. So of course the conversation eventually found it's way towards sex.dh girlie said:
Being outnumbered, the boys were getting grilled about certain aspects. One girl brought up guys lack of enthusiasm for giving oral, to which I replied that I did that all the time. I then made the joke that I was just a lesbian trapped in a man's body, which the girls found funny, but the guy was kinda quite about.
Next day, the dude was being weird and he and the girl who brought up oral took a walk. I asked the girl I was hot for what was going on and she informed me that the used to date before the girl decided that she preferred women (d'oh)... and the girl I was hot for said that she still felt guilty about it (double D'oh).
I just remembered another one. This must have been about ten years ago. I used to be pretty heavy into XC racing and would do the 24 hours of Canaan every year. My girlfriend at the time was super supportive and we used the racing as an opportunity to travel a little bit and do some camping.
We arrived in Canaan valley on the Thursday morning before the race so we could take some time to hike the course so I could scout the rough sections, think about how I was going to manage the climbs and get a feel for passing lanes. When we got back to our tent, the huge field which was the campgrounds was still pretty sparsely populated. My teammates had spotted my truck and told me that they were going to go pre-ride the course. Knowing that this was going to be one of the few opportunities that C.D. and I were going to have to be alone for the rest of the weekend, we decided to have a little in-tent workout of our own.
I was 20 or 21 and my refractory period was about thirty seconds so we were in there for about an hour and a half just going absolutely crazy. It was the middle of the summer and here we were going nuts inside this tent with the doors completely zipped up, both of us sweating like mad. In our vigor, the pooling sweat was creating these loud, farting/sloppy/sucking sounds between our therma-rests and whoevers back happened to be arcing against them at the time. C.D. also was tremendously expressive vocally in the midst of this type of activity. We laughed about the farty noises a bit, joking about how we were glad to be by ourselves in the middle of a huge field in nowhere West Virginia.
We finished, both of us exhausted and dripping with sweat, eager to jump out of the sauna that was once our tent. I unzipped the tent door, soaked, wearing only a pair of shorts (she was probably wearing the Daisy Dukes and one of the plain white v-neck t-shirts she always wore) stretched as I looked over the field at the horizon...to find that a couple had stood up from their lawn chairs, and were clapping for us! They had erected their tent no more than ten feet behind ours, had set out lawn chairs directly facing our tent and had been sitting there for who knows how long while we were having monkey sex. During all of our activity, we had NO IDEA that anything at all was going on outside our tent. At that time, it was the most embarrassing moment of my life.
This is a lot of fun...bringing back all these goofy memories. I just thought of a few more. I'll have to pace myself.
We arrived in Canaan valley on the Thursday morning before the race so we could take some time to hike the course so I could scout the rough sections, think about how I was going to manage the climbs and get a feel for passing lanes. When we got back to our tent, the huge field which was the campgrounds was still pretty sparsely populated. My teammates had spotted my truck and told me that they were going to go pre-ride the course. Knowing that this was going to be one of the few opportunities that C.D. and I were going to have to be alone for the rest of the weekend, we decided to have a little in-tent workout of our own.
I was 20 or 21 and my refractory period was about thirty seconds so we were in there for about an hour and a half just going absolutely crazy. It was the middle of the summer and here we were going nuts inside this tent with the doors completely zipped up, both of us sweating like mad. In our vigor, the pooling sweat was creating these loud, farting/sloppy/sucking sounds between our therma-rests and whoevers back happened to be arcing against them at the time. C.D. also was tremendously expressive vocally in the midst of this type of activity. We laughed about the farty noises a bit, joking about how we were glad to be by ourselves in the middle of a huge field in nowhere West Virginia.
We finished, both of us exhausted and dripping with sweat, eager to jump out of the sauna that was once our tent. I unzipped the tent door, soaked, wearing only a pair of shorts (she was probably wearing the Daisy Dukes and one of the plain white v-neck t-shirts she always wore) stretched as I looked over the field at the horizon...to find that a couple had stood up from their lawn chairs, and were clapping for us! They had erected their tent no more than ten feet behind ours, had set out lawn chairs directly facing our tent and had been sitting there for who knows how long while we were having monkey sex. During all of our activity, we had NO IDEA that anything at all was going on outside our tent. At that time, it was the most embarrassing moment of my life.
This is a lot of fun...bringing back all these goofy memories. I just thought of a few more. I'll have to pace myself.
Buck Fever said:
one of mine: somehow i got roped into being an unpaid counselor on a ymca bike trip to the san juan islands (wa). i was 17, this in the summer before i departed for college. all was going just fine, and i was getting along well with the older counselors and the 12-14 year old campers.
on the last night one of the counselors bust out a suspect looking bag of hot dogs. feeling rather deprived of meat (or even distantly meat related) products from a week of eating cheap-macaroni swill i ate one. in retrospect it probably wasn't cooked all that thoroughly either...
fast forward to the middle of the night, when i wake up in my tent with a sense of extreme, primal urgency. i managed to hustle my way to the outhouse just in the nick of time, but then once inside all hell broke loose. i don't have a clear memory of what happened, but suffice to say that all 4 walls, floor and ceiling bore a uniform covering of, er, liquefied loaf in about a minute. it was horrifying. it was all over my clothes. it was the middle of the night in a campground.
i ended up enlisting the help of the other counselors, who taped the door shut after surveying the battle zone, and threw away all the clothes i was wearing at the "real" bathroom up the hill (read: running water). i had the overwhelming impression that i still retained some of the smell, however, so the ride back into civilization in the van the next day had me huddled in one of the front seats hoping that the stench wouldn't permeate back to the unwitting camper-kids...
heh
That was horribly great. I've often wondered how that happened. Incidentally, I'm moving out your way in May/June this year. Hopefully we can hook up for some rides to help me get to know the area.Toshi said:
I went out to the watershed, our local FRish area, for some trials riding last weekend. At the beginning of our session on a line I found up on a hillside, the huge bowl of wheat chex I ate that morning caught up with me. Trying to be polite around my young, impressionable trials riding friends, I drove the ten minutes up to the Middletown overlook port-o-jon to take care of my need. Someone had painted it brown, much like you describe.
I absolutely had to release and at that point I wasn't about to drive anywhere else to take care of it so I sucked it up and spread as much T.P. as I could spare over the sitting area. I'm sure most people are this way, but I'm seriously averse to fecal matter, but I couldn't help but get some of this nasty crap on me as it was EVERYWHERE. I was afforded a small amount of reliefe as I borrowed my fiancee's car that day and she keeps a decent stock of baby wipes in the car for emergencies. Still, I felt contaminated for the rest of the day and couldn't wait to get home to shower.
I wondered how people could do that to a public toilet. Now I know.
Toshi said:
one of mine: somehow i got roped into being an unpaid counselor on a ymca bike trip to the san juan islands (wa). i was 17, this in the summer before i departed for college. all was going just fine, and i was getting along well with the older counselors and the 12-14 year old campers.
on the last night one of the counselors bust out a suspect looking bag of hot dogs. feeling rather deprived of meat (or even distantly meat related) products from a week of eating cheap-macaroni swill i ate one. in retrospect it probably wasn't cooked all that thoroughly either...
fast forward to the middle of the night, when i wake up in my tent with a sense of extreme, primal urgency. i managed to hustle my way to the outhouse just in the nick of time, but then once inside all hell broke loose. i don't have a clear memory of what happened, but suffice to say that all 4 walls, floor and ceiling bore a uniform covering of, er, liquefied loaf in about a minute. it was horrifying. it was all over my clothes. it was the middle of the night in a campground.
i ended up enlisting the help of the other counselors, who taped the door shut after surveying the battle zone, and threw away all the clothes i was wearing at the "real" bathroom up the hill (read: running water). i had the overwhelming impression that i still retained some of the smell, however, so the ride back into civilization in the van the next day had me huddled in one of the front seats hoping that the stench wouldn't permeate back to the unwitting camper-kids...
Oh, Toshi! I have tears running down my face from your story!!!
Buck Fever said:
"i haven't a square to spare"
Just reminded me of a Sienfeld episode.
I don't really have any stories that are THAT embarrassing (uhhh, I've never crapped on myself) but there are a few that come to mind.
Last year, I had just replaced the seatpost on my mtb with a longer one that I could finally get full extension with. This day, as on most when I ride on dirt, I went through campus and rode pretty fast as usual. I was riding downhill on grass parallel to a sidewalk. I had to get onto the sidewalk so I did a little high-speed bunnyhop onto it. (The grass was lower than the pavement so I wanted to avoid just sort of "merging" onto it and having the tire kind of roll and skid on the edge of the pavement; that can be dangerous at higher speed). Because I just put this longer seatpost on, I was not used to the height of the saddle and I was wearing baggy shorts, which I usually do not do for XC rides. The shorts caught on the edge of the saddle, I hopped really awkwardly, going a little sideways in the air. The tires skidded, I swerved, lost control and ate it full speed into the pavement. Keep in mind this is directly in front of what amounts to the student union. There were many, many witnesses.
I slid to a halt and got up quickly and then rode away and laughed a little, hoping to maintain some anonymity and have this attitude of "oh, that was a doosy!", even though it was one of the worst crashes I've had in a long while. I stopped behind a building and almost puked just thinking about what just happened. My helmet (a relatively new E2) was wrecked with several cracks on the inside, my new jersey had a huge hole ripped into the shoulder. My shoulder and arm had some pretty bad road rash. This happened in April or May last year and I still have scars all over left forearm, shoulder and knee. After I regained my senses, I rode for about 30 minutes and then went to the college health center. I had to wrap half my arm in gauze and an ace bandage for about 2 weeks. For every person that asked me what happened I had to try and be vague about the location and reason for the crash so I didn't appear to be a total moron.
Last year, I had just replaced the seatpost on my mtb with a longer one that I could finally get full extension with. This day, as on most when I ride on dirt, I went through campus and rode pretty fast as usual. I was riding downhill on grass parallel to a sidewalk. I had to get onto the sidewalk so I did a little high-speed bunnyhop onto it. (The grass was lower than the pavement so I wanted to avoid just sort of "merging" onto it and having the tire kind of roll and skid on the edge of the pavement; that can be dangerous at higher speed). Because I just put this longer seatpost on, I was not used to the height of the saddle and I was wearing baggy shorts, which I usually do not do for XC rides. The shorts caught on the edge of the saddle, I hopped really awkwardly, going a little sideways in the air. The tires skidded, I swerved, lost control and ate it full speed into the pavement. Keep in mind this is directly in front of what amounts to the student union. There were many, many witnesses.
I slid to a halt and got up quickly and then rode away and laughed a little, hoping to maintain some anonymity and have this attitude of "oh, that was a doosy!", even though it was one of the worst crashes I've had in a long while. I stopped behind a building and almost puked just thinking about what just happened. My helmet (a relatively new E2) was wrecked with several cracks on the inside, my new jersey had a huge hole ripped into the shoulder. My shoulder and arm had some pretty bad road rash. This happened in April or May last year and I still have scars all over left forearm, shoulder and knee. After I regained my senses, I rode for about 30 minutes and then went to the college health center. I had to wrap half my arm in gauze and an ace bandage for about 2 weeks. For every person that asked me what happened I had to try and be vague about the location and reason for the crash so I didn't appear to be a total moron.
This is a great thread.
So there were these two girls at a party, one was hot and one was...er...not, but they were friends and dressed and talked a lot alike. Chatted them up for a bit, then got on with the drinking. Fast forward a few hours and I find myself up in a dark bedroom making out with the hot one...she goes down on me and finished me off. I'm feeling like a champ and still chatting, in the dark. Next thing I know my bro's come in and slam on the lights. Sure enough: It was not the hot one. To this day I still don't understand how that could have happened. I mean we are talking about a 70 pound difference...
So there were these two girls at a party, one was hot and one was...er...not, but they were friends and dressed and talked a lot alike. Chatted them up for a bit, then got on with the drinking. Fast forward a few hours and I find myself up in a dark bedroom making out with the hot one...she goes down on me and finished me off. I'm feeling like a champ and still chatting, in the dark. Next thing I know my bro's come in and slam on the lights. Sure enough: It was not the hot one. To this day I still don't understand how that could have happened. I mean we are talking about a 70 pound difference...
At 24 hours of snowshoe when I was 15, I got staggering drunk and started walking down the mountain(its a long way) at like 3 am. The bus picked me up and I made it to the room, only to wake up covered in chocolated powergel, courtesy of some teammates. The embarrasing part is that ALLEGEDLY, sometime that night I showed my penis to my future girlfriend's mom. I have no memory of this, and I'm still skeptical, but the nickname "Flashboy" has stuck for 4 years. What can I say, she's a hot mom.