Hello I’m new and this is quite personal information I’m giving here but hey ho - when I was little I saw what I thought was a chocolate on the floor and I picked it up and popped in my mouth. Turns out it wasn’t chocolate but hey! - not everybody is lucky enough to know what poo tastes like:)
My parents do this…but they actually make really good, rather mild coffee, so when they reheat it a few hours later (and I dump a metric assload of cream + sugar in, as I am wont to do) it is not bad at all.
Word. 
Actually I’m told my dad did the same thing, back in the days when my brother and I wore saggy little diapers.
The first and last time in my life that I ever got sloppy drunk. I was 21, at a party and vastly underestimated the quantity of alcohol in the fruit punch. I threw up – copiously – on the 2nd floor of a slatted spiral staircase. It was all over the walls downstairs. Like a veritable waterfall.
It would have been the most humiliating moment of my life if I’d have been remotely sober, but it’s all a fuzzy dream. Also, and possibly more disturbing – I wasn’t even the most fucked up person there. Nobody batted an eye. I ended up crawling into the bathtub and eventually somebody drove me home. I swore off drinking for over a year, and now I won’t have more than one or two. I am disgusted beyond belief that there are people who have experiences like that and then go out and do it again and again.
One of my earliest memories is of reaching into my kiddie pool to touch what I thought was a leaf, but it turned out to be a slug. My parents tell me I spent the rest of the day washing my hands.
Edit: Oh yeah, and a kid in my fifth grade class ate a paintball on purpose (at school, in front of all of us).
I’m positive it was a Depression-era habit; good call, Hypno. Currently I have a most awesome Cuisinart coffeemaker that brews it directly into a thermos, so at lunch it’s as piping-hot as it was in the morning. I often think of my (now departed) grandparents when I drink from it later in the day.
However, right now I may just go quietly puke from all the wonderful grossness this thread has offered. 
C’mon Santo - You’ve never shot the boot? What kind of rugby player are you?!
Ariel the Wonder Cat jumped up onto the bed at 3am one night with a toy and started playing rather rambunctiously with it, waking me up in the process.
In my half-asleep state, I grabbed the toy and threw it into the hallway. Ariel dashed off after it, and then scampered back into bed to play some more. So I grabbed it again to continue our little game of catch when the sleep-haze cleared just enough for my brain to process the fact that the cat’s toys aren’t normally limp… or squishy… or wet… or… hmmmm…
…so I reach onto the nightstand, turn on the light and grab my glasses to better see what it is I’m holding (though by now, even in my half-asleep state, I had a good idea of what it might be).
And discover that I’m holding a very dead and somewhat chewed on mouse. AAARGH.
It took me a while to fall back asleep that night.
I took a bite out of a hard cinnamon heart I was supposed to take home as a Christmas ornament.
Worm inside of an apple. Yep, I bit into the worm and swallowed. I haven’t eaten an apple in about eight years.
As a teenager at a friends house I was eating out of a bag of potato chips (already opened) that I’d grabbed from the pantry. After eating several dozen chips I noticed the bag was crawling with those little brown roaches. Still haunts me.
Some sort of dead grub type worm inside a pistachio. Just before it went into my mouth. Made me wonder how many I had already eaten. Couldn’t eat pistachios for about a year.
I was drunk and had been eating sliced summer sausage all day at a friend’s party. Went to take a piss and thought I had put my bowl down on the top of the tank and grabbed another slice to eat----------------------- Decorative Soaps.
I did that with a LIVE rat–I was feeding my ball python, and the feeder rat I was given was a particularly hyper male. In 10+ years of snake keeping, I’ve never had a rat that behaved like that. Oh, sure, he bit me, but it wasn’t just that–he was like a rat on meth. I picked him up by the tail to place him in the feeder cage, and he spun so fast and hard I was holding a rat helicopter. Then he fell into the cage…with me still holding the last half-inch of tail. He’d spun and snapped it off himself. Bleh. The python took care of him.
Your post also reminded me of one over at the Chronicle of the Horse forums about the nastiest thing you’ve ever found in your horse’s stall. There were a couple of squashed frogs in the sole of the horse’s foot (they went to pick the feet, and FEH!), but the big winner for me was the girl who went to put on her muck boots and felt something at the bottom. She just kind of shoved her foot the rest of the way in, not thinking much about it, then noticed her foot felt…wet. She pulled it out and discovered she had squashed a frog in her footwear. Barf.
Thankfully, I’ve never found more than a dessicated mole in a flake of hay, and that was actually kind of cool.
Hah! I chew tobacco and I use Gatorade bottles for spittoons (the wide base compared to the height of the bottle reduces the chances of knocking it over) and this scenario is exactly why I have a strict policy of “spittoon on the left, beverage on the right”. I’ve both chugged from my own spittoon and spit into my own beverage more than once, but not so much since instituting the left/right policy.
I grew up in an urban tenement/slum. The cockroach population varied from year to year.
Once when it was worse (suspect a pet ferret had something to do with that - he was always trying to hoard food in weird spots) - I was listening/dancing to music, with a glass of Diet Pepsi sitting around. I picked up the glass, took a big slug, and felt all the little legs of a cockroach scrambling to find purchase in my mouth.
I did spit it all out back in the glass.
I am the Tiger Woods of Dead Mouse golf.
How about the grossest thing I’ve accidentally done to someone else? I was a drunken teenager, riding in the backseat with my obsession-at-the-time. Things are going well, and we’re just cruising along, smoking up. At this point, I’m almost certain to have some romance in the evening. Woohoo. Then we see a possum in the road ahead. And the driver just keeps going.
thump instantbuffbarf
I threw all over the back of the front passenger’s head. I guess hitting that possum knocked something loose inside. I had been feeling fine right until the moment I projectiled.
Needless to say, I did not end up having a fun, sexy night.
When I was about 10 I was chewing on the end of a pen and it kind of blew up in my mouth so I ate a bunch of ink.
The weird part is I sort of developed a taste for it and for a while I would cut the tops off of fountain pen cartridges and drink the ink out. Ahh, youth. (I probably totally poisoned myself).
I found the head half of a nicely dried, roasted and salted grasshopper in a pack of sunflower seeds once. I have a habit of putting a bunch in my mouth all at once and cracking them one by one; I missed popping this grasshopper half in my mouth by this much --><–. I also found a maggot in my soup at a hospital cafeteria once; the lady at the till asked me if I wanted another bowl when I showed it to her. No, I don’t want another bowl of maggot soup! I want my money back! And then go up on the floors and stop all the sick people from eating the maggot soup you just served them!