When I was a wee sprite of a girl I worked at an amusement park. I was a Games Hostess*. At the end of a shift, we had to count down our cash and stash them in these old Army/Navy surplus ammo boxes. Green steel, snaps tightly closed.
My supervisor came to relieve me one day for a break. With the ammo/cash box under my left arm, I tossed all my counted cash inside and proceeded to slam my left booby – tightly sealed and water proof – inside the ammo/cash box. I let out a terrible howl, supervisor (a woman, thankfully) rushed to my aid, pried the box open and I had to nurse poor Lefty for a few days until the bruises healed.
And thus, that was the stupidest thing that I can think of… that I’ve ever done to myself. Biggirl, hope your nose is feeling better. I hate it when boobies insurrect.
We have heat guns at work, and there are four attatched to a long box with metal hinges on it to keep the box together.
Well silly me, I think, “Oooooh, look, shiny and pretty!” and I reach out and touch it.
I ended up with a nice blister, and our tool and die guy happened to look over and see this. So now I’ll never live that moment down.
I was at my boyfriend’s house and wearing his sweatpants. Mind you, my boyfriend is just over six feet tall and I am only 5’3", so I had the ends of the sweatpants pulled over my toes to keep them warm and so that he wouldn’t tickle my feet. I went upstairs to use the bathroom and after I finished I washed my hands. As I was going down the stairs and wiping my wet hands on my sweatpants, I slipped and fell down or more like bounced down the stairs with my ass hitting each edge. I landed in a collapsed heap at the bottom of the stairs unable to move. Came out of it with a broken tailbone. This all happened the week before finals week at college. :-/ To this day, I have not been able to sit on a hardwood chair without curling a leg under me to protect my hurt bum.
I was talking on our (corded) phone while walking around the kitchen. The cord was on top of the counter and was between two coffee cups. I’m holding the phone with one hand and an open bottle of pop in the other. I decide that I should get the cord out from between the cups so it doesn’t drag one of them around, possibly causing one to fall and break.
So I take the cord with the hand also holding the Diet Pepsi and YANKED upward.
:smack:
The cord was free, but I was completely soaked with pop.
Not long after starting my first job after college: I’m standing there talking to a co-worker, and idly looking at an almost-empty spool of wire. I think, “That hole in the middle of the stamped-metal spool side looks just the right size for my finger. Hmm. It might get stuck. Nah. My finger’ll come out. Let’s try it.” I put my finger in. My finger gets stuck. The incurving metal edge of the hole digs deeper into my flesh whenever I try to pull my finger out.
The production supervisor has to cut the spool free from my hand with metal shears.
On the Last day of my visit to Ireland I am sitting in the nearly deserted airport. I was hung over like a gut on a fat man so I figured why not have one of the leftover Guinness from my minifridge. Mighty smart of me to bring them along I thought. Would have been smarter to have brought an opener. So what does a young man do with a bottle of Guinness and no opener? He rely’s on the old standby, A lighter and the fulcrum technique. Completely forgot about the noise said opening procedure would make. The sound was like a gunshot and echo’ed thru the terminal. Security quickly arrived and three hours later I was deemed not a threat, just a stupid american and released. Ten hours later I finally got on a flight. Obviously I missed every connecting flight and my wifes birthday. Didn’t even get to drink the beer. How’s that for stupid?
I was in my early teens when I got my first bicycle with toe-clips. Nowadays I wouldn’t ride without them, but at the time I didn’t realize I had to pull up on my toe to keep my foot in the cage. Instead, I cranked the straps as tight as I could to keep my feet from slipping out when I pulled up on the pedals.
You can see it coming already.
When I stop at a stop sign, I don’t stop all the way. In those days if I had to wait for a short while, I would slow to a barely-maintainable crawl, do a partial right turn, and work my way up the side of the street I was trying to cross. When the traffic had passed, I would turn back onto my original course, crossing the road and continuing on my way. This particular intersection had me moving up a slight hill waiting for the car to pass by.
But wait – there’s more! This fancy new bike I had was a real racer, it had gears all the way up to Mach 2. You know I was in the top gear when I slowed down for the stop sign.
Made a slow right turn up the hill.
Waited for the car to pass.
Turned back to the left.
And suddenly realized I didn’t have enough speed to keep my balance, nor enough torque to regain my speed, nor enough wits to have realized I might need to take my feet back out of the toe-clips.
One broken arm later, the folks at my sailing club were surprised to learn that I wouldn’t be on the water that day.
You’re all pitiful little pikers. I did something collosally dumb.
I was fixing this really big roof with a buddy. We tore off the the shingles and tarpaper, noticed that the sheathing was rotting, tore that out, and noticed that some of the beams were starting to go too. So we the started backfilling and patching with the structural members.
After a while, it became evident that manual tools would’nt really get the job done in a reasonable period of time, so we rented an air compressor with a saw, chisel, and nail gun.
You are all fundamentally bright people, so I’m sure you know where this is going.
We got the members patched and repaired, got the new plywood down, and started in on the tar paper and shingles. To be honest, I have to admit that most of the time when we were laying the paper I just used a framing hammer, but when we got to the shingles I was worn out.
Enter the air hammer. Shingle, shingle, shingle, foot.
I nailed my damned foot to the roof. Do any of you realise how dificullt it is to un-nail a foot from a roof so that the compassionate and incredibly tolerant EMTs can transport an idiot to the ER? All they did for me was give me a tetanus shot anyway. They didn’t really need to roll an ambulance.
I once failed to lock the kickstand of my motorcycle firmly in place. When I stood up, the bike started to tip over. I caught it in before it hit the ground, but not before the left side of the engine case hit my left leg. For 2 weeks afterwards I had a perfect burn mark that read “HONDA” backwards.
Playing pinball at the bar, we would set our cigarettes down on the glass top of the machine, and take drags between balls and while the ball was in play. Once, I picked it up and put the lit end in my mouth.
A few years back I picked my nose after chopping onions, without washing my hands first. Ouch!
Once I looked down to see a 6’ gaff sticking into my right deck shoe. It got me between my big and second toe. The bite on one of those is about 6" wide by 6" deep. I just pulled it out and kept fishing. I didn’t feel anything at all, you see we keep them very sharp. I sure felt it two days later though. It was only about a half inch deep thankfully. It made the strangest looking hole. Such a clean and round cut.
oh, and my friend got cut by a wahoo from just below the knee to his ankle while bringing it into the boat. The hospital really liked that one. Same friend while trying to tag a shark sorta missed and got my middle finger pretty good with said tag. We eventually straightened it all out and the shark went home with my tag and I sat there waiting for something else to happen. I ended up with a nice cobia to take home. Then there was the time that bluefish bit me almost all the way through my thumbnail.
and the time I fell off the cliff when I was 12! what a doozey! I still can’t beat Nigel though.
Montypython “and Nigel has managed to run himself over with his own car!”
I was gonna say the time I lost control of my motorcycle and intentionally used my leg as a cushion to protect the tank paint from the approaching guardrail, but that wasn’t the stupidest thing I’ve done, or the time I stopped the off-road bike and grabbed the electric fence to go under it, knocking me and the bike over so fast I thought I’d been hit by a truck, but that wasn’t the stupidest thing either. The stupidest thing was two simple words: I do.
Not me, but a friend of mine. We were riding our bikes and he got a little branch stuck in his. Needless to say, we weren’t puttering along, but he decided to remove the branch. While moving. I’ll diagram it, since I don’t like to get to explicit.
Hand goes for branch --> Fingers hit spokes, magically flies to chain --> Index finger goes away. Well, most of it. It did grow back though.
Left an extremely, extremely sharp compass on the couch. Kneeled on the couch to look out the window. Went about my business for about five minutes before realising that my right leg was numb from the knee down.
I would rather give birth to a 20 pound porcupine than relive the sensation of pulling that compass out of my kneecap.
