Embarassing Stories

[ShakeyDad]

As a tribute to our friend p-11HoneyBearshooter, I have decided it would only be fair and a lot of fun to start a thread of all the half-assed, embarassing things the various people of POOFA have done in their lives. I'm sure there are quite a few people here who can keep us entertained with stories of some "not-so-smart" things they have done, (me included). So, let's get this thing rolling. Who wants to be first ??

[ShakeyDad]

O.K., I'll be first.

One time long ago, I think I was 25 or so, my friends and I got a couple cases of the cheapest beer we could find and drank it till it was gone. After we were good and tanked up, we needed something to do. Well, being after 2 a.m., not much was open. We all decided to visit our local McDonalds for a visit to "Play Land". We were all havin a great time, until I thaught it would be fun to go sliding down the plastic tubes backwards. Being over 6 feet tall and weighing around 200 pounds, made this venture a little difficult. On quite a few occassions I became stuck, but always was able to wriggle myself free, except for one time. I got so jammed in the friggin thing a couple of my friends actually had to call the cops for assisstance. It took about 15 minutes for 2 patrol cars to show up and the big mean police officers tried to get me out, laughing and calling me names the whole time. After about 20 minutes, it was decided that the cops needed more help. The best thing they could think of was to call the fire department. It was quite a scene when the hook and ladder showed up with 5 or 6 firemen aboard. After much debate, it was decided the best course of action would be to cut me out. They got their chain saws and other playground destroying apparatus and proceeded to shred the tubes with me inside. I was inside this thing for around 45 minutes before gaining my freedom. One thing, if you've ever been drinking alot, 45 minutes is a looooong time to hold your water. Needless to say, I couldn't hold it in, and well.......Lets just say, I was quite wet by the time I got out. AND one of my "friends" also thaught it would be funny to call my father while this was going on. He was none too pleased to hear the news. My father, being a cop showed up and saw a few of his colleagues on scene. So, not only was I embarassed, but now I had also ruined my fathers life as well. He was from that day on known as the father of "piss-boy" He still reminds me of it from time to time.


I'll have more stories after dinner......I have a few left.

[dc dalton]

Alright I'm more than sure I can embarrass myself at least, hmmm, 30 or 40 times.

First one that comes to me I was about 14. One of my idiot friends had ripped the phone out of the wall at his parents house so the phone company would come out to fix it. While the guy was in the house he stole a set of climbing spikes. After a few weeks of us climbing trees in the woods they decided we need to climb a real telephone pole so we went around the corner of my house and two of them climbed it. I REALLY didn't want to but of course the dares started so I strapped the spikes on and up I went.

Once I got about 20 feet in the air the kids that were watching started laughing and i looked down and asked what the F was so funny. They just pointed down the street and started running.

Well sure enough here comes my FAVORITE squad car, car 9. These guys knew each of us and had brought us home more times that I can count.

I started down the pole as fast as I could but by the time I hit ground there they were. The officer in the passenger seat slowly looked up the pole, slowly looked back down at me, again up at the pole and then at me and said

"Hey Dave, fixing the lines are we?"

Needless to say I got one hell of an ass beating but I look back at the way that cop did that and it just cracks me up (and make me feel like a dope)

[Longshot]

I am not really sure that this is embarrassing, most of my adventures were more dangerous than embarrassing, somehow I got away with most of it. I spilled about 3 gallons of gas on our driveway when I was maybe 11 or 12. I decided to see what happens when it catches fire... Needless to say it was a good flame, luckily it went out before my dad got home.

I would take apart model rocket engines and put all of the solid fuel into a shoe box lid. At one time the lid was pretty full, I would take little chunks of the fuel and put it on the blade of my pocket knife and watch it go whoosh. I was really enjoying myself until I got board with the little small chunks and decided to try a lager chunk. Well just as the chunk caught fire it fell off of my knife and landed directly into the shoe box lid with the rest of the rocket engine fuel... It went more than whoosh lol. I was lucky nothing else caught fire, my room was filled floor to ceiling with thick white smoke. I quietly left the room closing the door behind me, and went and got a fan, put it in my window and went downstairs to watch tv. To this day, I don't think my father knows what I did, at least he hasn't said anything about it. I was really a lucky kid, I did some really stupid things mostly involving fire or anything that went boom, but never got into any trouble.

[dc dalton]

I would take apart model rocket engines and put all of the solid fuel into a shoe box lid.

A man after my own heart! We used to shoot Estes rocket engines out of a piece of pipe when we lost our rockets (damn were those fun). We also one time made our own pipe bomb with home made gun powder (sulfur salt peter and charcoal) put caps in the end of a 3" pipe nipple (one with a hole in it for the fuse) and waxed it shut.

We lit the damn thing and threw it into the Cuyahoga river ... damn near blew a new lake into it.

I too hung out with kids that did (not like I needed their help) a lot of dangerous STUPID shit.

[gnbrotz]

As a boy, I was involved in a church group called the “Royal Rangers” (similar to the Boy Scouts). They taught compass use, survival skills, etc., so I was not a stranger to the outdoors. In September of 1987, at the age of 16, I went out on a Sunday afternoon with a friend to scout for a location for him to hunt deer. We parked our car along a forest road and headed off into the woods. The only things we each carried with us was a pocket knife and some matches.

We had a nice hike, and found a couple of places he liked, but finally it was time to head home. We turned back for the car and begin walking. We walked and walked and did not come back out to the road. The forest road we parked along ran NE-SW, and a major route (that we came in on) ran E-W to our south. We could hear the traffic on the highway, but found nothing but woods ahead of us as we walked.

Finally it began to get dark and we began to get concerned. Not so much about our personal safety, but about the trouble we would be in with our parents for being late to return for church. Recalling some of the training we had, I reminded my friend that the first thing to do when you are lost, is to admit you are lost, and stop moving. My friend was not ready to agree with me, and I think part of the reason was that his father was the head of the Royal Rangers (which was supposed to have taught us to avoid situations like this in the first place)! We compromised, and even though we were just beginning to lose daylight, agreed to keep walking for now, but to stop as soon as we found a site suitable to spend the night. We were sure that in the morning we would easily be able to walk out to the highway, and from there, find our way back to my car.

We finally found a small flat clearing that seemed like a good place to stop. We settled in and were able to start a fire. I believe we may have had sweatshirts with us, but overnights were cool. As the evening progressed, we imagined our fathers' ire increasing, then changing to concern. We finally drifted to sleep, unaware of the activity that would surround us while we slept.

When we woke in the morning, we brought the fire back to life. Before long, I heard a helicopter. I scampered up an evergreen tree, and was able to see it not too far away. My friend had already begun throwing evergreen boughs on the fire to hopefully catch their attention. I pulled off my sweatshirt and began to wave that as well, only to see the copter disappear over the top of the ridge.

I began my descent, but before I could reach the ground, I heard voices calling our names. We shouted back and very quickly, a young man came into view. In my memory, he seems to have been very excited, almost like he was newly trained. He asked us if we were injured or needed anything to eat or drink. I don't remember if we did eat or drink or not, but what I do remember is the extremely short amount of time it took us to return to the forest road! In less than 5 minutes we were back to the road that we left the car along. We were taken to the office of the nearby state park (where the search was coordinated from) and asked a few questions - like could we pinpoint our path of travel on a topo for them (to help in future searches). Before long we were on our way home to shower and head off to school.

After we were found, we learned that after church Sunday evening, my parents had indeed contacted the local forestry office. They knew the general area we were going to, and quickly found our car. Over night, rangers, our parents, and other volunteers from their church drove up and down the roads around the perimeter of where we were (about 5 miles by 1 mile). They had spotlights and horns, neither of which disturbed our sleep. Someone stayed by our vehicle, and also, search dogs were brought in. In the morning, the helicopter that we saw was added to the search. The one thing I don't understand is that the search dogs took off into the woods on the opposite side of the road from where we were. They never even came close to our actual path.

When I got to school, my friends didn't believe me when I told them the reason I was late. I've always been a bit of a joker, including once going thorough an entire day of school with a cast on my arm, having help to carry my books and take notes, only to be miraculously "healed" just before dismissal! This time, I had some support for my tall tale: My teacher (also the Principal) returned to class. He had been called out to take a phone call. When my classmates told him my story, he just grinned and said "Rotz isn't kidding". The phone call had been my parents, explaining my tardiness to him.

In 2005 I contacted the man who is in charge of search and rescue operations for this area, in hopes of getting coords for the site where we spent the night. While he remembered my event, any official records of it are no longer in existence. I have spoken more to my father, and now believe I have the area narrowed down to about 1 square mile. It is my goal to someday pinpoint this spot.

[Karl/PA]

When I was about 12 or so a favorite activity was to get a large box of strike-anywhere matches and cut the white "igniters" off the heads with a razor blade and stuff them into fired .22 shells and then top each one off with melted wax. Great fun when you hit each one with a hammer. Now every bunch has a "Eddie Haskell" type and we were no exception. We had Melvin. Crazy as a loon. Well we're doing the .22 shell thing when he shows up with a fired 12 gauge cartridge and a sledge hammer. It took TWO boxes of wooden matches to fill that thing and half a candle to seal it.

We all stood around daring each other to hit the damn thing with the sledge but nobody was game. Finally, crazy Melvin picked up the sledge hammer and with one swing hit the shell. Talk about loud. And thats not all. When he hit that thing fire flew out, the sledge bounced up in the air and tow of us had our jeans and Keds on fire. No one would help because they were all laughing too hard.

[shefearsnothing]

Well I must have been about....5 or 6. My mom was a paid soloist at a church....so that meant I went to church every Sunday and of course all the good lessons we learn in church were taught to me. I knew it was very very very bad to lie...especially in church.

I also knew the difference between a married name and a maiden name and when they were applied etc. My mom had been married and recently divorced my brother's dad.

Our church services were aired on the radio. Absolutely NO EDITS. EVER.

So it's Mother's Day Sunday and the pastor decides to call all the kids up front before Sunday school. He goes down the line of kids asking each one if their mom is in the congregation or the choir. (I was last in line) When the kid answered the mom was supposed to stand and be acknowledged. The next thing he asked was for the mom's name. I was standing there the whole time trying to think about whether my mom was using her married name or had reverted back to using her maiden name. I did not want to lie in church after all. I decided it would be best to just give a first name. That was the safest. Finally..it's my turn.

Pastor: And how about you? Is your mommy in the congregation or the choir?

Me: (beaming with pride) Oh she's in the choir!

(mom stands proudly)

Pastor: Tell us, what is her name?

Me: Jenny.

Pastor: Jenny what? What's her last name?

Me: I don't know which one she's using right now.

As my mom is giving crayola three new shades of red the whole place just roars with laughter. I was of course, completely confused. I had no idea why these people would laugh at me. I was just telling the truth. If I recall it took about 15 minutes for everyone to calm down so the children could be excused for Sunday School and services could go on as usual.....

[gf45acp]

I managed to become the call on a rescue, breaking my hand and having to go to the hospital after completing removal of a woman from a car wreck.

[Kimba]

OK. This one is for Honeybear. It won't even the score but I hope it helps.

My husband and I were attending his 5 year high school reunion at a very posh hotel. I was young and hot at the time and was dressed in a slinky, off the shoulder, silvery purple dress and heels. Because the dress was clingy and I didn't want any panty lines, I decided to forgo wearing underwear and just went with sheer to the waist pantyhose. (Sorry, thongs weren't around then.) About half way through the evening I had to use the restroom. Did the usual stuff, washed my hands, brushed my hair, checked my make-up and decided all was good. I was walking around trying to find my husband and talking to a few of the people that I knew for about a half an hour before I decided to sit down for awhile. As I sat, I tried to smooth the back of dress down so it wouldn't get wrinkled and NO DRESS. All I felt was butt and legs.
It turns out that when I went to the restroom, I had inadvertly got the hem of my dress tucked into the waistband of my pantyhose. I walked around the hotel with my a$$ hanging out for all to see for a full half hour. No one said a word and it was the last reunion I attended.