The Funniest Unfunny Thing You Ever Saw

In My Humble Opinion
81

At a beach party with a bunch of friends, building a bonfire. A couple of my friends find a big log a good pace down the beach from where we were set up, and, with the aid of a significant amount of alcohol, decide to drag this back to camp and throw it on the fire. The log is big - it takes the two of them at last forty minutes of struggling to get the thing dragged up to the fire. When they’re about ten feet from the fire, Chad, who’s a the back end of it, is really leaning into a push when his feet suddenly lose traction in the sand, and he face plants into the edge of the log. Nice big gash on the bridge of his nose, and combined with the alcohol, he’s pretty much done for the night. He keeps it together to roll the log the last few feet into the fire pit, then crashes onto his beach blanket and passes out.

Problem is, it wasn’t just a log they’d found. It was a section of telephone pole, and as such, was soaked in creosote. It immediately puts off a huge plume of thick, greasy, stinking smoke. A ranger shows up pretty quickly to tell us to pull it off the fire, but we’re already ahead of him, and manage to haul it out of the pit and off to the side.

Partying continues for a while, and Chad wakes up, sees that someone has pulled “his” log out of the fire, and before we can stop him, pushes it back into the fire and passes out again.

This process repeated at least three more times (and one more ranger visit) before Chad is sufficiently unconscious to sleep through the rest of the party. The last couple of times, we had to physically restrain him from pushing it back into the fire - he was still too drunk (and in hindsight, possibly concussed) to follow the “They will kick us off this beach if we put that back in the fire,” logic we were trying to explain to him.

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Great thread!

As I read though it I kept coming up with situations that applied, so you get three in one (albeit that none of them are close to the wonderful posts so far, IMHO).

First happened to me when I was 4 or 5 years old, I found this wonderful box of chocolated, and while they tasted a little funny, I ate them all. Strange name for a candy, though…Ex-Lax. :eek:

Couldn’t be farther than a room away from the toilet for the next two days, and while it was no fun for me, I assure you, I’m sure my parents got some smiles from it. Never sneaked qany chocolate again, I assure you.
Second incident was about 10-12 years later, I’m out in the front yard with some of the neighborhood kids and parents, just tossing the football or wrasslin’, when the next door neighbor’s dog (a large-size black-and-white spaniel, about 40 lbs. or so), gets excited and starts running around, back and forth, as dogs will. Unfortunatley, neighbor David B, about 9-10 at the time, was also running around the yard (as 9-10 year olds do) and…Whammo! Dog hits kid right in the gut with a flying tackle. Dave goes down, wanting to cry but the breath has been knocked out of him and the dog is just sitting there…I can only say with a bemused expression on his face, as if he really can’t figure out what has just happened.

Both dog and boy were fine shortly thereafter. The end line? The dog’s name was “Panic”.

Last incident started seriously when we got a call during dinner from my eldest uncle (who lived alone) that he had fallen and cut his head. We sped over to his place to find the Medical folks there and blood all around the kitchen. We went with him to the hospital, where the madness commenced.

Russ (my elder uncle) was a very proud man, and stubborn to boot, and wanted to leave the hospital RIGHT NOW, without treatment. My mom and my younger uncle were just as determined that he was going to get treated. So right in the middle of the Emergencey room they held a family squabble that any soap opera would have been proud to televise. My father (bless him) was trying to play peacemaker among the squabbling siblings.

Me? I (about 25 at the time) and my younger uncles’ wife (in her 50’s) just huddled behind the plants in the waiting room and hoped nobody would identify us with the loud crazy people out in the hallway. And I have to say, we both laughed about it at the time.

Russ finally got his head stitched up, the family made up (at least till the next time), and Lee and I had a story to remember.

They’re all gone now. I’m the only one (at 62) who was there, so I guess they won’t mind me sharing it.

83

Well, this will out me if anyone I know IRL reads the Dope.

On a summer beach vacation, we all crowded into the rented house on stilts by the beach. There were probably 16 family members and it was raining like hell, so we were bored. My nephew, about 15, took a firework of some sort out on to the porch, lit it and threw it. There were some people sheltering from the rain under the porch and the explosive came a little too close. They went to the security office and complained. As I suppose I may have as well.

So a tiny little security guard approaches. The rain has tapered off and my sister and I are on the porch, none too sober. She’s recently completed her series of radiation for cancer (successfully) and its left her bald. As she’s a big woman and very tall to boot, she can be quite a sight. We spot him coming towards the house.

She tells me to handle the guard and runs in the house. He comes up on the porch and yells at me and concludes by telling me that he has to enter the rental house to seize all fireworks, and his entry is allowed per the terms of the rental (vacation park kind of place) . This will not happen and as I am advising him that I would need to see documentation and he’d better bring his superior with him-the door of the house flies open.

And my large bald sister flies out, followed by my 6’4" Fragile X brother who doesn’t speak other than a lot of loud grunts and strange noises which only we can translate, and my mother, 85 at the time, dressed for bed, snow white hair in all directions, cream on her face and no hearing aids, screaming WHAT WHAT WHAT’S HAPPENING??

Quick startled retreat, no more visits from security. And it didn’t help that he was maybe 5’5" in tall shoes

84

I was running a camp one summer holidays and on the last activity day we had the various level groups hiking back into base camp. These guys had been out for 3 or four days doing all sorts of stuff – hiking, canoeing, abseiling, problem courses etc. On top of that it had been raining on and off for the previous two days and the rain had settled into a constant mid-range fall (not bucketing down but not a light drizzle either).

For late summer in Australia it was cold – these kids needed a hot shower.
Wet as everything was I asked one of my staff to light the fire to heat the shower water (we had the permission of the local bushfire brigade chief).

The fire box for the shower heater was a metal box, a bit over a foot wide and high and maybe 3 feet deep. Wood was fed in through a hole in the front which was about ½ the size of the metal plate.

As the firewood was wet I told him to grab a can of diesel fuel to move things along. Now this guy had been with us for several years – both as a kid doing the activities and later as a staff member – he knew the drill and how things should be done. For some reason he couldn’t find the diesel fuel and grabbed a can of unleaded petrol and splashed maybe a cupful onto the wood. :eek:

Despite being dumb enough to use petrol he was smart enough to use a long taper made of twisted newspaper to light the thing. (I arrived on the scene at this point).

The petrol fumes ignited with a dull whoomp and a blast of flame shot out of the front of the box, hitting this guy on his bare legs causing him to jump several feet in the air and let out a scream like a 6 year-old girl.

Once we had ascertained he was uninjured we could see that his legs looked like a pair of hedghogs! The fireball had neatly singed the hair from the front of his legs, leaving the back still in their natural state.

85

early 1970,‘s late at night, at a Frankfurt, Germany bus station, waiting for a bus to take us to the train station to get back to my grandparents’ house. My mom, my two sisters (ages maybe 10 to 14) and I are waiting along with a “guest worker,” a rather rough looking man. My younger sister is getting a bit nervous, eyeing the man and asks me in a clear, loud voice in German: Do you have your pistol? (Hast du deine Pistole?) The next day, and ever after I laughed at the thought of the poor guy wondering why the little white girls were packing heat.

86

Thisvideo of a guy tripping on some synthetic drug called “mojo.” The woman filming this on her phone is also commenting. The part that made me laugh, at 2:15 : “He needs some milk!”