Really stupid moments. Your own.

Spawned by this thread, written by Eve.

I read this:

and immediately began to wonder which book Dr. Seuss would have written that was based on a murder :eek: .


After the announcement of Kenneth Lay’s death last week, I went around thinking for several hours that it was actually Tom DeLay who had died.

Make me feel better. Tell me your incredibly stupid moments.


Mine is a sequence of events.

One Saturday afternoon, my friend J. gave me some minor household items she had acquired at an estate sale. Among these were several coffee mugs and other drinking utinsils. When we got home I put the mugs & glasses in the dishwasher, and in the process I noticed that a black line running on the inside of the cup. I brushed the line with my finger to see if it was a smudge; it didn’t smear, so I concluded it was a crack tossed the mug in the garbage. Obviously you shouldn’t play with a ceramic item with a crack in it, I remember telling J.

On Sunday morning, getting ready for church, I decided to take out the trash. Seeing the mug at the top, I picked it up. “What are you doing?” J asked.

“I just want to see if I can pull the mug apart,” I said, giving it a tug.

The mug came apart in my hands. I got a deep, deep cut in the middle finger of my right hand. Blood begins to flow–and by flow I mean “spurt.” (Well, probably not actual spurting, but it certainly seemed that way.) J. screamed. I screamed. J., despite her great big brain, is not comfortable with the sight of blood and insists on calling 911. I insist that it’s not necessary–but after ten minutes of compression failed to stop the bleeding, finally acceded.

I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.

Ever had a moment where you’re so tired you can barely string together a coherent sentence?

I have!

I’m not going to go into details. The sentence which was uttered was:

“Watch them have that happy!”

It sounded like a badly-translated Asian catchphrase.

sigh And I’m usually such a grammar Nazi, too.


I once uttered the sentiment “Cigarette and ashtray together make good.” I know where you’re coming from.

Today. About twenty minutes ago. I had to burn a photographic plate. I went to heat up water in the coffee maker and forget to take the coffee grounds out.

Rinsing something in coffee wouldn’t work so well, I don’t think.

Note to self: it’s not a good idea to pry a stubborn electrical plug out of an extension cords using all-metal scissors.

A while ago I noticed for the first time that the “fill” icon on painting programs is a paint can being poured. I always thought it was a drawing desk or something, the handle of the can being a lamp :confused: . I remember forming that belief when I was five playing Kidpix.

One day last summer, about to back out of the garage, I noticed my car was messy. I balled up all the papers strewn about and leaned out the open door to toss them into a nearby recycling bin. While doing this I lifted my weight off the brake and the car rolled backwards. My door caught on the railing leading up to the door to my house like the scene at the gas station in Tommy Boy. By the time I stopped the car, it was open about twice as wide as it was supposed to be. Although I could still close the door, it popped open with dangerous force. The front fender was also damaged. It cost a thousand dollars to fix.

In college I worked for an inflatables and party event company. One event I was on the people had rented the human bowling. It consists of large and heavy metal sphere that a person sits and gets strapped in and then rolled down a lane at giant bowling pins. The lane is created by a long u-shaped inflatable. At the end of the event I am loading up the truck. I put the pins go in first and then the rest of the quipment, the deflated- inflatable and the fans actually can be stored in the sphere. So the spehre is secured and I’m loading the fans and the inflatable into the sphere. But I have to keep one arm up holding the door of the sphere open. So with one hand I am putting the fans in and tryng to get them situated… but I am having trouble moving them once inside the sphere with only one hand so I let go of the door and go to move the fans… compeltely forgetting my arm is the only thing holding up the door… CRASH! it swings down shut and slams onto my hands. I nearly passed out from the pain. They didn’t swell up or buise so I didn’t go to the doctor but damn they hurt for days and I could move them at all.

Push You Down, owchie!!

I was checking out at a store and for some reason, the debit card machine wouldn’t work. The cashier did something on her side and then said something along the lines of, “Now, do your PIN again.”

I gave her my number. Part of my brain was thinking she was going to enter it on her keyboard. At the same time, another part of my brain was thinking, " You’re not supposed to give your PIN to anyone! She meant for *you *to punch it in!" :smack:

The really stupid part is that I did it again about six months later.

My dumbest was probably a little over a year ago at work. I was trying to open up a tool’s case to book it in for service. It was fastened shut quite firmly with a zip tie, and I was trying to cut it open with a box cutter. Left hand slicing to the right across the left edge of the zip tie. Right hand holding case still. Left hand works its way through zip tie. Left hand makes it through zip tie quite suddenly. Left hand continues its trajectory, ultimately buryng the box cutter in the fleshy part of my index finger where it meets my hand. Amazingly, the blade poked right through to the other side but didn’t slice anything major (no muscle or nerves). Still, brilliant move on my part. My boss got me some side cutters after that.

I’ve also had my share of brain farts.

  • Putting on a pot of coffee on only to come back ten minutes later to discover the minor oversight that gave me a steaming pot of hot water.
  • Putting on a pot of coffee only to come back ten minutes later to discover I’ve brewed … absolutely nothing because the reservoir is empty.
  • Putting on a pot of coffee only to come back a minute later to the sound of sizzling coffee that’s brewing without the benefit of a carafe.

Apparently I shouldn’t be allowed near a coffee maker.

I can’t decide between two of them:

The house movers had just finished moving our furniture into our new house, and I was impressed. I reached to shake one of the mover’s hands just as he was reaching forward for some reason. Picture his hand held horizontal palm down while I reach with my hand sideways in “handshake” mode. Both hands interlock where it looks like we’re both doing the Vulcan hand signal.

Made both of us kind of uncomfortable for some weird reason. He probably thought it was some sort of secret gay handshake or something.

Luckily, my wife was the only witness to my second (recent) stupid thing when I was complaining about the aardvarks tearing up her tulip bulbs. “What?” she asked? “The damned aardvarks! You know!”

She burst out laughing, and I’m sure to hear about it during the next family gathering. You know I meant to say “armadillos,” right?

Oh God, I just have to vent here.

I’m part of a program that allows partial reimbursement for tuition. All you have to do is apply within three months of a certain date, and they’ll reimburse you for your class. Well, I was busy, and I just kept putting it off, and putting it off, and putting it off, and thanks to that and a misunderstanding about the date, I missed the deadline by two days.

That’s it. No one’s fault but mine. I missed the chance for well over $2,000, and it’s all thanks to my procrastination.

Two thousand dollars! I feel like one of those fucking idiot rich kid scions of big important families that never learned respect for money. I could have used that money. I had plans for that money. And I lost it because of my own idiocy.

For the past few days, I’ve just been coming home from work or class and sitting in the living room staring blankly at the TV while my wife busies herself trying to cheer me up while quietly hiding every sharp object she can lay her hands on.

OK, I’m kidding about the sharp objects. I’m not that bad off.

But for the past few days, it’s been reeeaaallll hard to think about anything else.

Two days. That’s it! I’m a fucking asshole!! :frowning:

I read this thread title: PSP: “White Is Coming”?

I think: What’s so new about being able to paint with white in Paint Shop Pro?

I have at least one stupid moment per day, I think, but this one always makes me laugh: When we first started dating, Mr. m asked me if I’d seen Predator. Not being able to come up with the right word, I asked him if that was the one with the “see-through monsters.” He didn’t know what to say for a minute and then said, “You mean ‘invisible?’”

A moment of pure, untainted idiocy on my part:

At one period in my life, I had a fondness for wearing “peter pan getaway shoes” - black suede pointed bootlets with zero treads.

During this period, I was out with a bunch of friends. In the wintertime. At a playground at night. Looking thoughtfully at a wide metal slide attached to a large jungle gym. There were metal handles on either side at the top.

I really, really thought I could make it. Much like, for that brief moment as a child when you tie on your superman cape and stand on the edge of the bed, feeling, nay, knowing, in your heart of hearts that you really can fly, before reailty comes moments later flying into your chin in the shape of a dresser that busts your lip and sends you crying for mother.

I didn’t run crying for mother after this incident. After all, I was 19 or 20 at the time.

But I really, really thought I could make it. Despite the treadless shoes, despite the iced up metal slide, the handles weren’t that far away, and if I could just get a good run at it…

But no. My friends were rolling in the snow, howling with laughter and sympathy pains. I wouldn’t speak of the incident for weeks. Not so much out of injured pride as injured lip.

Here is an illustration I made of the incident.

I’m 27 years old and have never learned (or rather, cared to learn) how to make a pot of coffee. I only have a coffee maker in my house because my mom bought one to keep here to use.

So the first time I need to use it, about 2 months ago, I offer to make my uncle some coffee. I measure out the coffee into the filter and put the filter in the thingy then fill up the pot with water (like I’ve seen my parents do a million times) then…well then what? Where does the water go?

I pour it over the coffee in the filter. Hmmm…why is all the water coming back out now? Took me pouring about half a pot’s worth of water in there to realize that filter cup != reservoir.

Once I got that cleaned up and successfully delivered a cup of coffee to my uncle, I promptly forgot about the cleanup and left the filter and coffee grounds in the machine for about 3 weeks.

Coffee grounds grow mold after a while. :smack:

When I was in college, I had a summer job working the front desk of a residence-hall-turned-summer-conference-center. In what may or may not have been a set-up, someone called the front desk and said he was supposed to meet a Mr. Kuhn and wanted to know if he had arrived yet. The varsity basketball team happened to be using the facility for housing during their summer practice camp. So imagine the looks of shock and horror on the faces of my co-workers when I put my hand over the receiver and hollered into a lobby full of very tall, athletic African-American males…“Is there a Kuhn in the lobby?”

When I was 12 a friend and I poured some gasoline all over a pile of leaves and decided to set it on fire (some of the things we did would have inspired several Beavis and Butthead episodes). After setting the fire, we didn’t think to move the gas can far enough away from the inferno. You’re probably thinking that the whole can went BOOM! Luckily that was not the scenario. Instead, only the residual fuel that had spilled on top of the can had caught fire. My friend and I watched from a distance as the flame dissipated, hoping it wouldn’t blow up. Once the flame was out I immediately picked up the can and burned my fingers in the process. Apparently my brain forgot that fire + metal = “something that’s going to be too damn hot to touch.”

A friend of mine that works for the highway department told me about a computer job opening at the main DOT office. He was always complaining about the crappy technical support his office got from the main office, he wound up asking me how to fix things instead of them.

So I go to the main office for an interview and during the interview I say something like “My friend told me you guys don’t know what you’re doing and probably need some help up here.” I said this to the boss of the IT department. And I wasn’t saying that in a joking way. The lady didn’t seem too happy, needless to say I didn’t get the job, and I think my friend had an even harder time getting support after that.

That was a really good “don’t put your foot in your mouth” lesson for me.

I had a brainfart about 2 years ago that still embarrasses me to this day. I was driving to work when I all the sudden hit the brakes and pull into a parking lot and start digging through my purse. What was I looking for, you wonder? My keys. I felt so dumb. :smack: