Embarrassing Stories
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- BuddhaHat0
http://www.fmylife.com - hours of embarrassing comedy gold in here
Today, my boyfriend and I went to the beach. I'm kind of self conscious about my stomach and I was sitting up so my stomach skin and fat folded. My boyfriend then kept hitting my stomach making slapping noises going, "OINK OINK." I've never felt better. FML
Today, I woke up next to my dad pissing into a bottle. FML
Today, I was awakened by the sound of my boyfriend in the bathroom taking a number two, yelling "OH YEAH!" in his Randy Savage Macho Man voice. FML
Today, I screamed when I saw a midget in person for the first time. I'm 23. FML
Today, I unexpectedly showed up to my girlfriend's house. Trying to be romantic, I tossed a rock at her window. It broke the window and hit her in the head. FML
ahh, schadenfreude.
- curses, didn't see the previous ppl post the link... FMLBuddhaHat
- ali0
I know a guy with a really hairy ass who tried to use his sister's epilady (machine with a whole lot of rotating tweezers) to remove the hair and got it jammed in his ass crack.
- Projectile0
when i wuz 12 or so I looked down one day and POOF! a fucking forest had appeared!!! So being a weird little kid, what's the first thing I do? SHAVE! Snipped them stubble short then took them out with dad's electric razor.
MAN oh man did it start to sting!! So that's when I started looking for something to alleviate the pain. Ah, so THAT's what aftershave is for! I eagerly apply a generous amount of the stuff to my plucked-chicked-looking area. Needless to say, McKaulay Culkin had nothing on my reaction.. the pain was terrible!! but of course my parents were watching tv in the next room, so I couldn't scream!
Eventually I leave the bog to go cry/scream in my room, but of course they'd heard me playing with the razor for ages... so start giving me a whole talk about have I started sprouting facial hair and I must tell them and they'll get me a razor.. while I could actually feel tears welling up in my eyes as the pain just got worse and worse!!
Eventually got out of there, stuffed my face hard into my pillow and bellowed to kingdom come, then danced around the room in a barefoot-on-hot-coals sort of way until it subsided
- Projectile0
and another, short and sweet.. working freelance for a hotshot agency for a few days, and thought I'd locked the toilet door, which was oddly right on the studio.
The art director walks in on me whilst in mid-wipe! Pants around ankles, left hand round the back!!
then he gets all pissed off and loudly declares "you can lock it!!!"
FFFFFF
UUUUUU- LOLOLOLali
- damn. ALWAYS check the fuckin' door. twice.johnny_wobble
- ali0
A friend of mine is constantly complaining about her heartless psychopathic boss and she relayed a story (one of many) that I just have to share...
At the time the boss is away there is some rearranging of the office and the boss's chair needs to be moved into another room for a new person to use.
When she attempts to move the chair she feels something weird on the underside.
Upon closer inspection she discovers what appears to be mountains of booger snot wipe (semi-wet & dry) which has been accumulated layer upon layer over many years.
Well you can imagine the reaction of her and her collegue... gagging, thoughts of cutting off ones own hands, sterilising the boss's entire office and the question of who was going to touch and dispose of the contaminated chair.
Anyway as you would guess word spread fast... embarrassing but not so for her boss as it has become the office joke but no one would dare to mention it to her.
What makes it even funnier is her boss is the highest paid female lawyer of a large lucrative law firm who acts all posh and looks down on everyone like she is high and mighty but underneath she is a vulgar pig. LOL
So recently I was talking to another friend who now works for the same lawyer as her receptionist. She had heard the rumors but was never game enough to look under the new chair to see if her boss had stopped the dirty habit, after the 'Snot Chair' had been disposed of, or if she was still a 'Compulsive Wiper'.
Her husband was up to the challenge though so when an opportunity arose for him to be at the office he decided to sneak a peak.
Have a guess what he found...
- mg330
Told elsewhere in the annals of QBN, but retold for your reading pleasure:
One time in high school I went to a college graduation party with my best friend; the party was for a friend of my sister's, they were all about 10+ years older than us. We were 17. I didn't really like beer much and spent the whole evening drinking straight margarita mix - no ice, no crushed ice, just margarita mix and tequila.
At one point I realized that I was feeling awful and wanted to go to the bathroom. Thought I was probably going to be sick. Bathroom was occupied so I went in their guest room and locked the door. I ended up sitting on the edge of the bed, and then projectile vomiting ALL OVER THE FUCKING WALL AND CARPET. Just gallons of vomit. I got super nervous and something made me think that the best way to clean up was to take off my shirt, take off my white undershirt, and somehow, drunkenly, clean up the puke. Not sure how well I did because i was hammered out of my mind, but for some reason I took my puke soaked undershirt and stuffed it in a cowboy boot in the closet...
Later that night my sister's boyfriend was asking me if I got sick, and I kept denying it, but they knew it was me.
Fast forward a few months and the homeowners started to notice a really nasty smell in that bedroom. Turns out I had also puked into an air conditioner vent and it was all caked in there and smelling when they turned the air on.
At some point after that I ran into those people at an REM concert in Dallas, in 1996. My sister had passed away that summer and it was my first time to see those people since her funeral (not trying to bring down the awesomeness of this story, just adding for context.) Anyhow, they said I should come by for dinner sometime but at the very end threw in a "Just don't get sick in our house again," and kind of patted me on the back. I was busted. Never heard about the fate of my puke soaked shirt in their cowboy boot.
Wait, that's not embarrassing, it's fucking awesome.
- mikotondria30
SO, in the late 70s, when I was about 7 or 8, some of my friends started talking about this great place called 'cubs', and persuaded me to try it out for the first time. I didn't know anything about it or what to expect but it turned out to be a kind of very organised boys club, where the boys where these shorts and uniforms the leaders all wear uniforms, and you do cool outsidey and character type activities. It's all quite regimented and far more of a disciplined environment than school, and I was a little intimidated by the authority of the older boys, staff and ultimately of the Akela - the troop leader who was also the strictest, scariest dinner lady at our school. Fuck, she terrified me, and I spent that first evening session on tenter-hooks, really nervous about putting a foot wrong, failing at the games or saying the wrong thing, being inadvertently insolent or whatever. I was also pretty badly in need of a piss by time I'd arrived.
Not knowing the protocol for asking where the toilets were, or indeed ever hearing anyone ask, I became increasingly anxious as time went on.
The session of games and things with knots etc, drew to a close, and without a spoken command - according to their regular procedure, the troop of boys formed a large circle for the closing ceremony. As a new-comer without uniform I was welcome as part of this quite somber, serious event, and I stood in the circle, opposite the Akela, who in this tale towered above everyone else with a hawk-eye and bush of wiry silver hair. There were announcements, and congratulations awarded to certain boys - polite applause - man, I needed to piss, come on ! come on ! How long was this bit ? The piss I needed was at the final stage of stand-off with my bladder muscle. There was no more tensing, no minor reliefs - this was to the wire. Hard, heavy and cold, and starting to burn its way down to the gate. Jeeesus. Yes, congratulations, Andrew on your weaving badge.
And we welcome a prospective new member - Michael - all eyes on my slowly contorting frame. We hope he has enjoyed his first time here at cubs and we hope to see him again. That threw me. The steely look from Akela, my friends, bigger boys I didn't know. Other ancilliary adult staff. Gawp. Piss didn't care. Piss needed out - spasms, burning, cramps.
And without break, into a presribed passage that they'd always say to finish the ceremony - "Boys, do your best..."
And I did. I did my best to hold on, but there was no hope. The piss won the battle in my little grey shorts and busted through my heroic bladder retaining muscle. It leapt out in a joyous, victorious hot yellow torrent. Boundless in its vitality and freedom it quickly filled the inside of my underpants and blasted out the bottom on my legs, sheets of shimmering boy-pee, endless, hot and chipper as a mountain stream it gurgled and splashed as it hit the tops of my dress shoes and finding a level oozed slowly into a bulging growing pool around me on the dusty floor. Beneath the brightest of the ceiling lights I stood watching the horror on the faces as I stood upright in my island of shame, like a lone coconut tree atop a rounded disk of sand, my bladder had given up all hope of dignity and was unresponsive, my fleshy balloon emptied its happy self entirely, and I picked up one foot, and drops fell off and made tiny ripples. It was done. The ceremony was over and robotically the boys broke ranks and moved towards their coats and the exits.
After a time I did the same. No words were spoken and I left holding my coat in front of me and onto my lap as I got into my dad's van in the dark.
Yeh - I enjoyed it.
And the worst thing - the very very worst thing ?I did it again the next week.
