About a month ago, I got a box of Peeps and some Hostess Sno-Balls from my parents. My dad and I have this running joke about Hostess Sno-Balls. It involves poking them repeatedly while they’re still in their wrapping in the store. Basically, they’re these balls of pink coconut fluff that are more indestructible than plutonium (and probably have the same shelf life.) Try poking one. It doesn’t even make a dent.
Eventually I threw them out because I couldn’t find anyone who would take them. Later that night, my family took me out to dinner. As we were leaving the restaurant, my dad asked me if I still had the Sno-Balls. He promised me, in all sincerity, that if I still had the Sno-Balls when I graduated from college, he would eat them.
This guy is actually willing to ingest two Hostess Sno-Balls that are older than parts of our house. Think about that for a minute.
I raced home and went through the garbage looking for the Sno-Balls, but the garbage had been emptied. I’d better get another package of Sno-Balls fast.
I hate to do this to a worthy thread but you asked.
I used to bet a blowjob to my ex when he’d play pool. I don’t know if his friends ever knew that’s what was meant when he’d start a game and ask me “Traditional bet?” but the current was there none the less.
But yea, I followed through on that. I think he only lost once though.
When I was a senior in HS a friend of mine and I had an strange bet.
We had a bet on if I would have a date to the prom. If I did get a date we would go to dinner together and he would pay. If not I would fork over $60 to pay for his dinner. (he had a steady)
Now in my school you could not go ‘stag’. Also a condition of the bet was that the girl had to be from our school and had to be a Junior or a Senior. He made the bet with me to sort of force me to ask a girl or two out. (an activity I still loath) But we made the bet in front of his girlfriend and the word got out amoungst the school (without me knowing) and so it was a disaster.
Basically I think the girl I persued thought I was only after her for the money. (she probably would have said no anyway) She also went to my friend and asked for a cut to keep me thinking I had a chance till all the dates were snapped up.
Then one day a Junior girl who was dating another friend told me how the bet was being discussed in ‘rap session’. ( a certain lame teacher wanted to show how cool he was by letting the kids rap about any subject on Fridays) So that Fridays discussion was all about my personal life, my sexual orientation (some people thought I was gay, I mean after all I was in band), and I think some people wanted to get some betting action on the side but nobody would bet on me.
I paid the money and stayed home.
I don’t think I really need to rehash the football bets I made during the playoffs this past season. Suffice it to say that they were quite ridiculous, and I did need to follow through one of them.
On the upside, the loss of data from Dec 7 to sometime in March meant that both of the wagers disappeared into the void, so there’s no proof I had to write anything to fulfill any bet.
Still, when the 2002 season comes around, I’ll be looking to make a few wagers…
An ex girlfriend of mine thought I would never have the balls enough to streak (run naked). So, in order to prove her wrong (and win the bet, which was for some additional “fun”) I followed her to work. She worked at an office durning the second shift (from 6 to 3 in the morning- programming of some sort). I called her up from the parking lot and got her to go to the nearest window which faced the northern lot. Once I saw her standing there I preceeded to do a (lame) striptease. Then I ran through the lot yelling and screaming. I won the bet, but it wasn’t until later that I found out she had gotten her fellow cubemates to watch me from their windows (the place was pretty empty, but she said about 10 to 15 people watched my lilly white ass run through the parking lot.)
When money is on the line I’ll do practically anything. I’ve eaten all manner of bugs, disgusting food items, and even yellow snow (my father got me to do that one, I didn’t realize it was pissy snow until I ate it- I was young.)
A friend of mine once dared me to light a fart on fire- which I did, but I ended up burning my ass and having to go to the doctor. Apparently he held the lighter too close when I dropped my pants. That was the worst two weeks of my life.
I was at a friend’s bachelor party last year. We were somewhere in Kentucky (I think? All I know is - it was a long, drunken busride from Nashville), at a riverboat casino. After losing most of my money, a friend and I were leaving the boat and walking up the (quite long) boat ramp. For some reason, every time I see a wide, flat path with little-to-no obstruction, I feel the need to walk on my hands (what can I say? It’s a sickness), so I briefly tottered a bit on my palms. Some other, much luckier, gambler behind me saw my ridiculous ambulation and bet me fifty dollars I couldn’t make it all the way to the end of the ramp on my hands. Never one to pass up a pissing contest, I agreed. Unfortunately, I was drunk, the ramp was slightly uphill and about 100 feet long, and I never was that good at walking on my hands.
That bastard and his wife took my last fifty dollars.
I feels your pain, lno. During the 2001-2002 NFL season, I made the mistake of betting Hamlet that the Bears would actually beat the Packers – the payment being a thousand-word essay on the superiority of the Packers and the general suckitude of the Bears. (If I’d won, Hammy would have had to expound on the moral turpitude of the Packers and the superiority of the Beloved Bear.)