Ever do something THIS stupid?

So, the other night, I come home after having a few beers with a friend and, naturually, I’m looking for a little snack.

Going through the cabinets I spy a box of macaroni and cheese (store brand, thank you very much).

I fill the pot with water and put it on the fire and bring it to a boil. I pour the macaroni in the water, give a quick stir and retire to the couch to watch some tv while the macaroni cooks.

Well, you guessed it, I wake up to find the place filled with smoke. The water burned completely away an the macaroni was a charred mess. I even burned away the Teflon on the pot. It’s been two days and the place still stinks of smoke.

And, just for a little extra comfort factor, no smoke alarm went off.

Beat that!

At least you remembered to put water in in the first place.

I have a scar in my scalp.

I was at a party, stone cold sober (this bears relevance, as you might be able to justify this if I’d been drinking). Someone bet me that I could drive a nail through a 2x4 with my forehead.

I took that bet.

I slammed my head down very fast.

I missed my forehead, and tore a gash in my scalp that required 6 stitches.

I could also tell the story about how I got kicked out of college for accidentally setting a lizard on fire, but that involves alcohol.

There was a time when I refused Christ as my lord.

I’ve done exactly the same thing, and the smoke alarm did go off. I don’t know if that’s better or worse.

It started fairly innocently. I had decided to get my washing done on thursday evening, when the college machines were more likely to be free.

It has to be said that I am not the most domestically gifted student in existance, and washing machines still induce an unnatural panic in me. I loaded the machine with my first load of clothes (my g/f having told me I had to separate light from dark) and closed the door, setting the machine to wash. A countdown appeared on the machine telling me it would take 45 minutes to be finished.

This is where I made my first mistake, the laundry room is close to the bar, and so I decided that while I waited I would partake of a pint of that most wonderful of judgement clouders, Stella Artois. An hour and a half later, having stupidly become involved in some drinking games with my mates in the bar, I headed back to the laundry room to put the next load in.

Having transferred the first load of washing to the dryer without incident I loaded the washer again, but the leg of my jeans refused to stay inside the machine while i closed the door. As the last pint snaked it’s tendrils into my mind I came up with a plan. Placing my hand into the washing machine, I intended to slam the door quickly, whilst removing my hand from the rapidly narrowing gap between the door and the washer, thus leaving the offending article of clothing insufficient time to escape. It was, as Baldrick would say ‘a cunning plan’.

I held the jeans leg inside the washer, and imparted an almighty force to the closing of the door, whilst removing my hand not quite rapidly enough from the rapidly narrowing gap. The door closed, and the catch engaged, locking it for the duration of the cycle…trapping the very the tip of my index finger firmly 'twixt door and frame.

I calmly assessed the situation I was in, whilst uttering such profanities as would be like to make a nun’s ears turn blue and fall off. Clearly I could not wait 45 minutes for this infernal contraption to release me, I had to find a way out. I then decided to extract the imprisoned digit with a firm, sharp tug, sucessfully removing most of the skin in the process. “F**K”, i shouted, clutching the bleeding finger in my hand, just as two shapely young fresher girls walked into the room.

“Are you OK?”, inquired shapely fresher #1 with a concerned look. I gave the only manly answer I could.

“Perfectly fine thankyou”

“But you’re bleeding” said shapely fresher #2.

“Tis but a scratch” I responded, looking at my injury, and seeinig that by bleeding they meant dripping blood onto the floor. I left the laundry room, with the parting advice to be careful of the washing machines because “That one there is evil”

I returned to my room, feeling stupid, to clean and dress the wound, before returning to the bar to continue my evening.
My apologies for the mini-novel, but I could hardly just say I slammed my finger in a washing machine door, could I?


10 = 2 correct?

Just an aside. I had the hardest time with Algebra in school. Until later, when I had to do Algebra with binary. THAT, made perfect sense to me. Strange.

I was younger, still living at home (about 12 I think), and I decided to make myself a pizza for lunch. So, I popped it in the oven, then went upstairs to read while waiting the twenty minutes for my food to be ready.

Four hours later, my dad woke me up. I like my pizza a little crispy around the edges, but this was no pizza, it had mystically been tranmographied into a hockey puck.

I think I just skipped eating, and went back to sleep.

I didn’t burn the pizza.

I just failed to take it out of it’s plastic wrap.

We nailed it to the wall as art, and threw it away when we moved out, about 8 months later.

I left the giblet bag in the turkey and then peeled all the skin off before realizing it wasn’t cooked enough. Hmmm…what’s the word that’s the exact opposite of tender?

We had the mashed potatos and green beans for dinner.

I tend to rate stupid acts by cost. That way I can say, “Well, I’ve spent $40 on dumber shit than that,” and go on with my life.

Omnipresent - I can beat that. I put a pot of water on the stove to boil, checked my email, changed laundry loads and then remembered I had to be somewhere.

Three hours later I came home to BURNT WATER. You wouldn’t think that was possible, would you? It’s an electric stove with a glass cooktop, and the pan - which was of course by that time empty except for some mineral residue - almost fused to the burner.

Ah the smell of burnt teflon coating, sadly I know what that smells like. :wink:

I had one of those Bowl Appetites once. They’re easy to make. Peel back the film, pour hot water into it, nuke for a couple of minutes.

So one day I’m making it, and I sit down in the lunchroom.

  • snif snif *

Hm, odd smell

  • ding! * Lunch is done!

I go into the kitchen, where smoke is billowing from the microwave. Billowing, I tell you! I open the door, and I can’t even see the bowl.

I run up a floor to get the HR director. Help, help! I cry! It’s the microwave!

She comes down and gets the maintenance guy. While she’s gone I open the door and pull out the bowl. It’s unrecognizable. Smoke continues to billow - but, thankfully, no alarm has gone off.

The entire kitchen stinks. Then the lunchroom. Shortly, the entire six-floor building.

Turns out I had neglected to add water.

The microwave was put out of its misery and buried in a vacant lot. Or tossed into a dumpster. Something like that.
I refrained from using the microwave for many weeks after that. It was a while before the smell evaporated!

So we’re having a stupid contest, eh?

Well, I can top that with another burnt food cooking story. The details are exactly the same as the OP, but in this case my roommate decided to cook frozen fish fillets.

I don’t think I’ve ever been wakened by a stench before. The whole house smelled like somebody died and they didn’t discover the body for weeks.

you want stupid?

trying to be a lover instead of a friend.

or trying to be a friend when you really want to be a lover.

ah, I’m pissed anyhow and will be quite embarassed at this post in the morning.

If you must witness, please do so in Great Debates.
Thank you.

About 8 years ago I had a roomate in college who would routinely put all of the dirty dishes in the oven to make the place appear cleaner. He did this every Fri/Sat night in the hopes that if he brought a lucky lady home, she would be impressed by our clean place.

Upon arriving home one evening (without said lucky lady) he decided to make a pizza. He turned on the oven to preheat it & promptly passed out.

I woke up to a blaring smoke alarm, an apartment full of smoke, and my rommate was passed out on the couch sleeping right through it!

Man was that a mess…:wally

I once set my thumb on fire.

It was a lonely night, the summer before 9th grade. I was writing something on small pieces of paper.


I decide to play with a new body splash. I sprayed it on some on these pieces of paper.


Hey, wouldn’t it be cool to watch some paper burn?

Har! I can almost top that. I stapled my thumb once.