It was in Basic Training. You have to keep your laundry bag tied at the foot of your bed in this complicated system of knots and loops, and your laundry bag can’t be more than 1/3 full, etc. At night we were to sleep in our PT uniforms (shorts and t-shirt, with bra). I can’t remember why, but on this particular occasion the only item of clothing I changed was my underpants, which I tossed on the floor under my laundry bag, intending to put them in the bag when I had more time to undo and redo all the knots. Too bad I forgot. So when one of the drill sergeants makes his rounds in the middle of the night, and I’m awake getting ready for fire guard, he spots this sole pair of panties on the floor. “You leave your panties on the floor, private?” he asks, and I admit I did. Then he asks, incredulously, “and you’re eighteen years old???” And I had to answer, “No, drill sergeant, I’m twenty-eight.” He just shook his head and went away.
I was on a college field trip to some museum. We were shown a film that I guess was supposed to show us how violent and horrible media had become but my 19 year old brain thought it rocked. They played the images to Rage Against The Machine. Anyway there were no chairs, just this curvy white thing. I sat at the back. And for some retarded reason I leaned back (even though there was nothing to lean against), flipped over backwards, and landed on my ass on the floor. The whole class turned, saw me sprawled out on the tile, then burst into hysterical laughter.
ok i thought of something. i grew up in seattle. when we were kids we swam in greenlake all the time during summer.to save time i wore my swim trunks under my pants.so when i got there i could just pull down the ole’ bellbottoms and jump in. it became habit.well one day we went to lake washington instead. because seafair was on and thunderboat races were happening.and there was thousands of people there. well we got to the lake picked out a spot. i was excited to go swimming. i whipped down my pants and ran to the water. to my suprise i forgot my swim trunks.and to a little kid (at least me)running around in your fruit of the looms in front of hundereds of strangers is the most terrible/embarrassing thing my young mind could ever concieve.needless to say i ran crying to my mom who was sitting on a blanket. which i sort of crawled my lower half under.
I think I’ve posted these here before, but I could be wrong…So here goes again:
My freshman year in high school, I was dating a senior who was a football player. Now I was only 14 at the time, and VERY naive. One night my mother asked me “What position does Ronnie play in football?” I had no clue, we had just started dating and I hadn’t thought to ask him yet, so I told her I’d find out.
Well, keep in mind that not only was I naive about sexual matters, but I was also ignorant when it came to football. I knew the basics: touchdown, field goal, extra point, quarterback, and that was about it. So when I asked Ronnie what position he played, he said “Deep Snatch.” I, of course, had NO clue he was being facetious and took that as a legitimate answer.
I’m sure you can see this coming…
Well, not too long after that, my mother asked me if I’d found out what position Ronnie played. So I told her “Deep Snatch.” As you can imagine, this caused quite a commotion. She laughed so hard I thought she was going to cry. My dad laughed out loud, one of those full belly laughs, for several minutes. I was STILL clueless why they were laughing at me, and neither of them was about to tell me.
Ronnie, of course, was more than happy to demonstrate. 
I still can’t figure out WHY, after hearing this, they allowed me to continue dating him…?
Second incident:
When my husband and I just barely knew one another (we were working together in an auto mechanics shop - he’s a mechanic and I was doing the office work.) I was standing out in the shop talking to him one day. Several years ago my sister gave me a quarter with a hole drilled in it to carry on my keychain for emergency pay phone money. Of course I’d have to have more than a quarter NOW but back when she gave it to me that’s all it took. Well, he saw the quarter on my keychain and he mentioned that it was illegal to do that to money. I knew it was illegal, but I wasn’t real worried about it. So I replied to him…
What I MEANT to say: “Yeah, they’re going to come and arrest me for desecrating a quarter.”
What I said instead: “Yeah, they’re going to come and arrest me for defecating a quarter.”
I think I have a pretty good grasp on the English language. I DO know the difference between desecrate and defecate. And in my defense, there’s only a slight difference in the two words. But oh BOY was MY FACE RED when I realized what I had said. Of course my husband thought it was hilarious!
:o
The most embarrassing thing that ever happened to me, was when my husband was trying to teach me how to load a sig 380. We had been married about two weeks.At two a.m., in the living room, both of us in our underpants. Only our underpants. He told me if you pull the trigger and the halfcock lever at the same time, the hammmer will just sort of rest on the firing pin. Then, sez he, you can carry a round in the chamber, and get one more cartridge in the magazine.
He was wrong. If you pull the trigger and the halfcock lever at the same time, you will kill a brand new carpet.
The bloody thing goes off, scaring the pudding out of me. About 10 seconds later, the door bursts open and in come about a million city cops. Well four, anyway. a patrol car had been driving by at the time.
So there I sit , wearing a pair of rather small pair of red lace underpants, and a stupid look, with four guns pointed at my head.
And when cops hear “shots fired”, they all converge on the spot. We soon had about ten of them in our living room.
Too make a long story short (too late), my husband was a State Trooper. Imagine this, if you wiil. A six foot, two inch, one hundred forty pound, bald-headed man, in his underpants try to explain that he is a cop, too.
Then, one of the city cops recognizes him. And me. It wasn’t till then they put their guns away.
What do you say at a time like this? Anybody for a cup of coffee?
When i was about 7 i needed to use the restroom in a large restaurant. The door had one of those blue “handicapped” symbols (looks like a guy sitting in a wheelchair). To me it looked like guy sitting on a toilet… so i strutted on in. A women spun me around and sent me back out. Quite embarrasing, but at least i learned that laides’ rooms don’t have urinals.
_________________ Husband’s note on refrigerator to wife:
“Doctor called - said Pabst beer is normal.”
Hopefully this will provide someone with as big a laugh as the proceeding posts did for me!!
The week between Christmas and New Years we, the hub, the offspring and me, went to Phoenix AZ to meet some internet friends. One was coming in from Germany. So we all go out to a mall to wander around, do a little shopping, whatever. We are standing near an escalator talking and I have no idea why I thought it was a good idea but I decided to see if I could get UP the down escalator.I took a running leap, aimed for the middle thinking two good leaps and voila! Damn I hit ground hard… and rolled…Scared the piss outta the lady whose feet I landed at… but I did get up it. However I tore the skin off one hand and banged my knee up real bad… and of course all 3 guys, including the hub, were too busy laughing to help. I stalked off… well actually limped off bleeding… jeez… seemed like a good idea at the time !!
Not that bad, but fresh in my memory…
I’m on my school’s Track and Field team. Usually I’m pretty good… but not for one event, which just happened to be at the Championships…
The event was the 300 hurdles. I was in the last (the fastest) heat in the event. Okay… so the gun goes off, and the race starts. Six lanes are full, and my adrenaline is pumping (obviously). So I start running, and as I’m about to hit the first hurdle, I realize I’m a half-step off (Probably because I was so pumped for the race, I unconsciously made my stride a little longer).
I don’t know how many people here can relate to what I’m talking about, but this is a pretty bad situation for a hurdler to be in. I know I can’t to a shuffle step to make it over the hurdle, because I would lose about half a second, which in the championship could mean the difference between 1st and 10th (Not that I was good enough to get 1st anyway… I was just hoping to get 4th or 5th). So on with the story…
I kick out my leg and pray I’ll get over the hurdle. Considering the OP, you probably know what happens. Suffice to say, I finished about 5 seconds behind everyone in my heat, and well out of placing. In addition to that, I embarrassed myself in front of the large crowd that was present at the meet.
Despite those embarrassing 45 seconds or so, I had a great day. Finished 2nd in the 110 hurdles and 6th in High Jump… but those pesky 300 hurdles really pissed me off. On the first hurdle too… damn it.
You like 'em pretty thin eh?
Alot of people look at my last name and pronounce it BATES, mostly because they can’t believe anyones last name would really be pronounced BITES. By the time I was in 8th grade I’d stopped correcting people. Call me Bates or Bites. Just don’t call me late for dinner.
What I did not know in the 8th grade was that there was a 6th grader whose last name really was Bates. I had never heard of him because he was 2 grades behind me. So when they announced a student achievement award for Paul Bates I went trotting up to the podium to accept “my” award. So did the real Paul Bates.
From then on I resumed correcting people about my name again, and even started spelling it BITES on all but legal documents.
Yes, I like skinny men. But, I think as far as he was concerned, it was the uniform. And the handcuffs. Don’t forget the handcuffs.
Ditto. This happened 2 weekends ago.
I’m out bar-hopping with a small group of friends. Late night, we enter one of the busier, upscale bars and I run into a buddy of mine (lets say “Jay”) that I haven’t seen for about 3 months. “Jay! Great to see you! Who are you here with?”, I ask. He tells me he came with 2 other friends (call 'em “Bill” and “Sam”) whom I also haven’t seen in quite a while. He says they’re standing on the far side of the bar and I should come say “hi” when I get a chance.
About 5 minutes later, I grab a girl I’m with a head towards the far end of the bar for a beer. When we get there, I see Jay standing with his back to me. About 5-6 feet to his right is Sam, talking with some guy. I say to the girl, “Hold on…watch this!”. I approach Sammy from behind, grab him by the hips and start humping away. Bam, bam, bam! Balls to ass, baby. Contact is being made. Sammy slowly turns his head…
It’s not Sam.
The guy was so angry he could barely speak. As I kept apologizing (“Sorry! I thought you were someone else!”), he just kept saying, “Walk away. Just walk away from me now!”.
So, I escaped with a good story and no black eye. whew
Blush…I apologize I thought that was a typo and I was making a silly joke. I’m a bit confused though if a man is 6"2" and 140 lbs wouldn’t he be well…um dead?
astro-
I, too, am sorry.:o I was making a sillier joke.
I didn’t mean to make you blush.
My ex is really is skinny, though.
I used to manage a restaurant/bar. We had a regular named Randy, who had this little routine to get the bar crowd going. He would stand up, shot in hand, and say in a loud voice, “Ladies and Gentelmen, I have one thing to say, and one thing only…LET’S GET IT ON!!!”. (The bold part was screamed.) The bar would always go wild.
Ok, so we are catering the grand opening of the local Jewish Community Center. In attendence are, the Isreali Ambassador to the US, our state’s Govenor, our Mayor, several Senators and Congressmen, the Cheif of Police, and other local dignitaries. There are also about a million police, sherrifs, state cops, feds and secret service on hand to ensure their protection.
I had been introduced to as the HMFIC to the head security dude, so that he could get the low-down on all of our help.
So things are off to a slow start. The speakers are taking forever, and we end up about 45 min behind schedule. We had been hustling for hours to get ready, and the kitchen crew was getting restless. Finally, the word came that it was time to begin serving the entrees. I thought it would be a good idea to insert some humor to motivate the crew, so I did the “Randy”. I screamed "LET’S GET IT ON!!!"
My kitchen crew laughed as I had hoped, and then suddenly fell silent. Now, as a general rule, secret service and their ilk do not find sudden loud noises amusing. I don’t know why. I spun around and found every cop in the joint looking in the kitchen door. I muttered an appology, but they were far from amused. They all glared at me and went away, but I thought I would die.