Both! :o
Where are the drunken kid scenarios?
Heh, kid. I found a warm beer on the playground inbetween Sunday School and church and had no idea it would exploooooode upon opening.
Great idea for a thread. That said, I plan to do this over the weekend, cold sober.
At a family get together, I took one of my uncle’s beers out of the fridge, drank it, and re-filled it with extremely sweet kool-aid. Said uncle later got beer out of fridge, took a big gulp and spewed it all over the backyard while playing horseshoes.
Kid.
Also reminds me of how my ex-roommates drank my scotch and replaced it with rot-gut whiskey. The police are still looking for the bodies.
Four of us decided to leave the gathering and attempt to drive home. I got in the back. As the driver fumbled with the keys, a wave of sense came over me and I figured this was a bad idea. I got out, but just as I stood up, the driver decided to go. She ran over my foot. My screaming caused her to panic and stop…on top of my foot.
A buddy jumps out and tries to help me pull my foot out. The driver puts the car in reverse but the open passenger door hits the now-standing buddy in the back. He flies forward and his knee collides with my teeth as I knelt there, grabbing my foot.
I still have the chip in my tooth.
Drunk or kid?
For the full effect make sure to do it on a street with plenty of bushes for you and your friends to hide behind.
Hitting golf balls over a busy street into a large park.
Heh, I’m sensing a cultural difference here - in the UK, a conservatory is just a cheap sort of one-room house extension, usually constructed of PVC and perspex/glass, and one storey high.
Anyway, I had just arrived home from an evening out, and had forgotten the keys. Although I was still living with my parents at the time, I was probably about 20 years old. A friend of mine helped me up on to the roof of the extension, but then claimed he had hurt his back in doing so and could not help me down. He maximised the amusement value by spraying me with the garden hose, before I decided to jump for it. He did let me stay at his house afterwards, at least.
The following morning my Dad did some gardening and noticed the hole in the bush, so the story came out. I don’t think my Mum knows about it to this day, though. No doubt she will be enlightened during the best man’s speech at my wedding later this year!
Kid. Probably about 12.
Working with friends, made a hot air balloon out of a dry cleaning bag, some string, a dixie cup with rubbing alcohol and unwrapped tampons in it. Worked, went up about 25 feet. Then the dixie cup caught fire, blazing tampons rained down upon us, causing burns to one large ornamental shrub, a near roof fire, someone stuck in a tree, and a sprained knee.
The kid in me says drunk, but the drunk in me says kid.
Drunk.
I came to consciousness, and found myself, belligerently rambling to my parents and their close friends about the missing mouthpiece to a long-gone trumpet.
Mine was indeed drunk. And it was my knee that got sprained.
Hmmm…I feel that the “came to conciousness” part is to deliberatly mislead us into thinking you were drunk, but I’m going to say kid who was half asleep/sleepwalking!
Me and my buddies were playing “ice bowling.” Several of you (ten, if you have that many) form “pins” on the ice, and one person is the “ball.” They run, ten slide on the ice into you, knocking over as many as possible. In my first go as a “pin,” I didn’t feel the need to put my arms out in front of me as I fell, and my chin slammed onto the ice, requiring an ambulance and several stiches.
Drunk or kid?
Kid!
Here’s mine — I ran across the back yard of a neighbor’s house after dark and was literally clothelined when I ran into their heavy-gauge wire clothesline with my neck. I was completely knocked off my feet and landed on my back, which knocked the wind out of me and I lay gasping like a fish wondering if I’d severed my head from my body.
Bouv, you’re correct. I’ve been sleepwalker and talker since I was at least 10. I dozed off in front of my parents friend’s tv in the middle of the afternoon, next thing I know I’m a crazy person.
Correct! I was about 6 or 7…the scar I got from that was about three millimeters to the left of the one I got a couple years earlier running in socks on hardwood floors, falling down, and hitting a small nail head poking out with my chin.
Ouch! That happened to my best friend in high school; except in his case the clothes line hit him in the mouth pulling the braces off his teeth.