While hovering over a public toilet seat…
…I ended up peeing on the back of my pants.
Just shoot me.
That’s just freaking hysterical.
Never burned Teflon, but I did set a copper kettle to boil once so I could make tea.
When my stepmother found it five or six hours later, the water long gone, she said the kettle was so hot it was glowing.
I don’t know if I believe her, but I sure would have liked to see it.
My worst cooking disaster involved deep frying hush puppies on the stove in a pot of oil while totally sober ten years ago.
The hush puppies I was able to eat were delicious.
The smoke alarm was loud.
The kitchen was on fire. :eek:
The fire extinguisher was in the cabinet over the stove. :smack:
Next best - grab the baking soda out of the fridge and toss it onto the fire and remove the smoldering pot to the concrete patio and cover it with a trash can lid to put out the straggly bits of fire poking out of the baking soda crust.
Go back in to survey my handiwork. The cabinet doors over the stove are burnt to a crisp. Everything else is sooty or covered in baking soda. The dogs are eating my dinner. My hand is second-degree burnt just from being near the flames. On the patio is a black oily stain and a ruined Calphalon saucepan. The $50+ pan is a lost cause. The in-cabinet fire extinguisher was dead anyway.
The oily stain on the concrete goes away with liberal application of engine degreaser. The cabinet frame and doors required sanding down to unburnt wood and re-painting. Everything else takes a day of scrubbing to de-soot. A new fire extinguisher is purchased and mounted to the wall opposite the stove. To this day, if my hand gets near a flame (campfires, grilling, etc) the burned area turns a strange rashy pink for a day or so.
And again, I was sober.
Oooooooo, I just remembered.
I had one stupid incident that just might be MORE stupid than my original post but less life threatening.
I decided to go for a run after not running for a few months.
The running shorts I had on caused a chafe (sp) between my upper thighs right where “it counts” if you know what I mean.
Very sore but, two days later, feeling a little better decided to go out again.
But, I was ready this time. I grabbed the vaseline jar to lube myself up to prevent any further damage.
I dig a good two finger swab in there and start lathering up.
Then it hit me. This isn’t vaseline. It’s VICKS VAPOR RUB!!!
Yowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!!:smack:
Holy cow, me too! And I have pictures.
It looks just like I pissed myself, rather than pissed on myself. What a great Fourth of July that was. I blame it on the too-low toilet of a dive bar in Coronado… and maybe the couple of beers I was trying to offload.
Do you have a goattee? Maybe you’re Evil Equally Clumsy Me From a Parallel Universe.
Long time ago I used to make wine as a hobby(yeah right…hobby)…anyway on my inaugural batch I had filled dozens and dozens of bottles with the raw ingredients(including the yeast) but forgot I didn’t have those doohickeys you use as a stopper to relieve the pressure that builds up
The bottle were all old wine bottles with the twist on tops(I didn’t exactly have the best taste in wine back then plus I was really poor)
Anyway I went out to get stoppers and actually got them in time but met some friends while out and darn it …it wouldn’t of been polite to just blow them off now would it? MANY hours later after getting home if not three at least two sheets to the wind I decided in my infinite wisdom it could wait to change all the tops
The next day all those bottles exploded…pow pow pow…glass everywhere and the smell of partially fermented fruit all over everything…including the ceiling
Here’s a little known fact…at least to me…any scent will make you nauseous if you concentrate it and have to smell it long enough
I moved shortly afterward that incident
Hee, hee! Probably not. Although the clumsy part might be true!
:eek: 
I stapled my forehead once. No, I do not want to elaborate.
When I was about 16, I was craving toasted marshmallows. Well, the only fire available to me was the gas flame on the stove. Put marshmallow on fork, toast to perfect, almost-burnt golden, eat. Yummm. Until about the fifth one, when, for some inexplicable reason, I closed my lips around the tines of the fork. I’ll tell you, you haven’t lived until you’ve heard your lips sizzling!:eek:
I’m still refusing Christ as my lord, thank you. :rolleyes:
I’ve done far worse, though.
Once, I decided to try to tightrope-walk across a bunch of music stands (Hey, stop looking at me like that. I’d just consumed two bottles of Bawls.) in the music room. I got about a quarter of the way across the classroom before I realised that these were folding music stands.
I got about another third of the way by scrambling before I fell, scraped my stomach on a music stand, tumbled off sideways onto a chair, and rolled off the chair straight onto the wood floor.
Ow.
Used to be, we had our computer set up on the dining room table. One day, my brother comes over for dinner. I have several candles burning throughout the house. The only one not in a jar is burning on the table where I’m playing on the computer. So I can watch it.
Hubby’s fixing spaghetti - and Bubba’s watching TV in the Den and yells for me to join him. Dinner’s done, so we just dish it up and go eat in front of the TV. About 30 minutes later, Bubba decides he wants a second helping. Once in the kitchen, he looks over into the dining room to see what’s flickering. Yep, the wax of the candle has melted into the crack of the table and the table is on fire. Pretty flames shooting up right in front of the computer monitor. 
Some slight melting to the keyboard and monitor. But there is a hole the size of a baseball in the table. Now I’m only allowed to play with fire when I promise to stay in the room.
ok, this is not something stupid i have done, but something stupid my husband has done.
I was working late and we had to do laundry at the laundromat. I told my husband to go ahead of me, and that I’d get a ride to the laundromat. Anyway, we get the clothes washed and get back home only to find the front door WIDE OPEN. Seems hubby forgot to make sure the door was shut good, and with the storm going on, it blew the front door open. we were gone from the house for a good two hours. We have two dogs in the house. Luckily, we left the tv on for the dogs, and the light in the living room was on. the porch light was on. My car was sitting at the end of the driveway and my dogs had not run off. I think with all those things, it is the reason why no one stole anything.
anyway, it was a pretty boneheaded thing to do.
wow it nearly took me a half hour to type this message. My cursor is moving alot slower than I am typing. Seems to only happen at this website. Lately anyway. grrr.
When I was twelve, I was playing Ninja Turtles in the backyard with my friend Chuck. I was Donatello. At one point, I climbed up on a the patio table to better defend against the legions of imaginary Foot Ninjas that were besieging my house. The glass patio table. Thank God I was wearing shoes.
I once got an attack of diarrhea while at a friends house, raced to the bathroom, yanked down my pants, and dropped my load. And then realized that, when I’d pulled down my pants, I’d somehow failed to pull down my underwear at the same time.
(Psssst! Omnipresent! The really stupid thing you did was not using microwave mac and cheese. There is a certain brand which shall remain coughstoufferscough nameless that is outstanding. I keep it on hand.
The stupidest thing I ever did was to take a nice long sleepy soak while drying my hair. The dryer was one of those dorky electric things with a machine attached to a hose attached to a cap (a la 1970’s). I set the machine right on the edge of the tub. Hell, it wasn’t like I was a kid. I was in my 30’s and knew better or should have!
Back when I was a Junior Birdman at March AFB in sunny Scummymead, CA, I once participated in a friendly game of “frisbee”.
With a pane of glass.
After I “caught” it in the palm of my left hand, my cow-orkers gave me a free ride to the base emergency room. We made up a story about my tripping and falling onto some sharp metal.
I once went out to urinate.
I forgot I had just chopped up about 40 jalapeno peppers to freeze.
I think this will provide a nice counterpoint to Eternal. Crossposted from my live journal:
Home alone for one of the first times, I decide to Make Myself Dinner (I was delicious!).
This is in pre-microwave days so I put a can of baked beans in a saucepan of water, put it on the lit gas, and retire downstairs to listen to music and play my latest wargame.
About an hour later I hear WHUMP. I race upstairs.
The water has of course long boiled dry. The can of baked beans has exploded and covered every surface of the kitchen. Every bit of every surface. The lid of the can is stuck to the roof with overboiled bean goo. There are stalactites of mysteriously coherent (and adherent) sauce-strings reaching down towards me from the ceiling. A slow gentle rain of beans patter onto the floor.
I spent the rest of my evening alone wiping, wiping, wiping … the wallpaper between the top of the tiles and the roof had this strange orangish cast to it for the rest of our tenure in the house, oddly enough no-one else ever noticed this.
You can believe her. If all kettles are like mine, they glow brighter at the bottom and dimmer at the top.