What's the dumbest thing you ever did as a kid?

Dinsdale · Post by **Dinsdale** » Fri Jan 28, 2005 8:19 pm

My "grocery store bud #1" would be too bust stealing whole cases of cans of whipped cream, back in the good old days, before they out that lame plastic seal over the cap. Good times.

"Grocery store bud #2" used to have us come in when it was extremely busy, load up a cart with several cases of beer, and then slap a "couyrtesy tag," or whatever they called it, that meant that a clerk needed to wheel some old fart's stuff out to the drive-through in front of the store(they would load your car curbside as a service). Milked that game for literally thousands of dollars worth of beer as teens.

I'm way glad this thread wasn't titled "Stupid things you did as an adult." My fingers would be bleeding.

Moorese · Post by **Moorese** » Fri Jan 28, 2005 9:22 pm

Headhunter wrote:I posted this at TSB some time ago...

I remember that thread and the fecal tsunami trick. Expertly played.

My contribution to that thread and this one is more an instance of adolescent stupidity as opposed to true childhood stupidity.

Anyhoo. Way back in high school, I lived a few doors down from this marching band tweedle named Herman. Herman played the clarinet. Rack his stones for being such an honest goddamn fag in those days of mulletized beat downs if you so much as hummed a bit of the Thompson Twins. Herman was also pretty heavy into radio-controlled planes. Naturally, Herman was a friendless, spineless, post-pubescent pimple on the ass of the world. He always said "Hey" to me even though the last time we had really exchanged any words was when I drilled him in the head with a rock and knocked him off his older sister's bike.

It's fall. Herman gets a new radio-controlled plane. It's fucking HUGE - like a goddamn condor or some shit. So he's taxiing it around the second parking lot of our apartments one day, and a friend who shall remain nameless (Mark) and I decide to get in on the action. We hang out with Herman (who seems pretty psyched), and learn all about his stupid fucking planes. Hell , he even lets us fly his new big one once he gets it in the air. Fucking thing has a fully-operational bomb chute and about a six feet wingspan.

That Friday, I ask Herman if Mark and I can tool around with his new plane. He's pretty leery about giving up control of his dork crown, and asks why we aren't going to the football game. I tell him that I have to watch my younger bro at home since my Mom is out looking for dick, and since he (big Herm) has to go march at the halftime show, I thought I could practice up on his remote control thingie. Hell, maybe we could hang out over the weekend and fly his stupid fucking planes like ... together? Well, this brings a smile to Herm's seeping, zit-addled face. You betcha, fellas! So Herm gives us another quick lesson in the parking lot before he heads down to school to put on his band costume.

Mark and I finish up a two liter bottle of Coke, and then take turns pissing into it. We get in Mark's Mazda, cruise to the store, and buy some balloons and a pack of butts. One at a time, we snap balloons onto the lip of the Coke bottle, and tip it up to fill 'em with piss before we knot the fuckers. We make about eight little piss bombs, then take the wings off the plane, load the whole shebang into the Mazda, and cruise down to school. Turns out the "bomb chute" is so fucking small that it only holds one piss bomb at a time. At halftime, we load her up and take off from the soccer fields across the street. Our band takes the field and we start walking across the street and up the hill behind the bleachers, flying the stupid fucking plane overhead in big-ass circles. I'm doing the flying, and Mark's carrying a few spare piss bombs for reasons unknown. Right in the middle of Whitney Houston's version of the Greatest Love of All, I circle the plane over the football field, intending to bring it in low over the clarinet section. Not surprisingly, people start shitting, what with the plane and the high-pitched wwwhhhheeeeeeeeeeeeee, and a few teachers notice Mark and I at the top of the hill, and start heading our way through the bleachers. No time to lose. I divebomb that fucker right over the woodwinds, heading towards Big Herm, and drop my payload, baby (s'up Ppanther?).

But I miss him ... completely. I do, however, nail another clarinetist named Janice with an 8 oz. piss bomb. It explodes right onto her shoulder in a golden halo of urine droplets and mist that was truly breathtaking under the lights of the football field. (Janice would forever hate me, but I would fuck her sister the next year, so it made up for the bitch's ill humor.) The band stops butchering an already horrible fucking tune, starts freaking and looking around, and lovely little Janice starts crying. Meanwhile, Mr. Darnell, a PE teacher, is getting dangerously close to exiting the bleachers and reaching Mark. Ever the gallant combatant, Mark lobs a few piss bombs in Mr. Darnell's direction. Unfortunately, they are wide of the mark, exploding instead onto the heads and shoulders of nearby spectators.

At this point, we wisely decide to quit the field. I drop the radio-controller on the ground, and turn to catch up with Mark on our flight to the Mazda. Big Herm's Enola Gay touches down into the side of the Weiner Shed, the portable concession panel truck. We made it to the Mazda, but I ended up with a week's free pass on Monday. Herm got the nerve to ask about his stupid fucking plane the next weekend, and I told him it was an accident.

Headhunter · Post by **Headhunter** » Fri Jan 28, 2005 9:27 pm

I love that story. I read it earlier today and had tears. I had to read it again.

Rack Mo!

Dinsdale · Post by **Dinsdale** » Fri Jan 28, 2005 9:28 pm

Any time you see a multi-paragraph Mo post, you have to debate whether to read it, or save it for when you have a better buzz on.

I read it.

Damn.

Me and Mo would have got along quite well in high school.

PSUFAN · Post by **PSUFAN** » Fri Jan 28, 2005 9:31 pm

Am I supposed to lock it now? How do you follow that?

Cuda · Post by **Cuda** » Fri Jan 28, 2005 9:31 pm

Tears, Mo, tears

hardcrow · Post by **hardcrow** » Fri Jan 28, 2005 9:33 pm

Jesus, if the sitcom writer for Malcom in the Middle ever got a hold of this thread.......

ElvisMonster · Post by **ElvisMonster** » Fri Jan 28, 2005 9:41 pm

Dinsdale wrote:Me and Mo would have got along quite well in high school.

I'm sure you would have, Hermsdale. I'm surprised this thread didn't send you into a fit of rightious bandgeek indignation. Props on your restraint.

KatMode · Post by **KatMode** » Fri Jan 28, 2005 9:53 pm

ROTFLMFAO at this entire thread. Shit, I've nearly peed in my pants several times.

I broke into an house for sale one time (no one lived there). It was a beautiful house... swimming pool, tennis courts, 3 stories. The house had 2 panes of glass on the windows and one of the panes was broken already. So I grabbed a huge stick and tried to break the 2nd window. I ended up breaking more of the first pane, and ran like hell for home once the glass broke on the sidewalk. Did I learn my lesson? Hell no. I went back about an hour later... broke open the already-decaying garage backdoor and snooped around the garage for a few minutes. (yes, I did try to get into the house from the garage, but at age 10 or so, I didn't know how to pick a lock). Stole a tape with a date on it (happened to be my birthday), and took it home. It was a recording of some preacher.

Fat Bones · Post by **Fat Bones** » Fri Jan 28, 2005 9:59 pm

KatMode wrote:ROTFLMFAO at this entire thread. Shit, I've nearly peed in my pants several times.

I broke into an house for sale one time (no one lived there). It was a beautiful house... swimming pool, tennis courts, 3 stories. The house had 2 panes of glass on the windows and one of the panes was broken already. So I grabbed a huge stick and tried to break the 2nd window. I ended up breaking more of the first pane, and ran like hell for home once the glass broke on the sidewalk. Did I learn my lesson? Hell no. I went back about an hour later... broke open the already-decaying garage backdoor and snooped around the garage for a few minutes. (yes, I did try to get into the house from the garage, but at age 10 or so, I didn't know how to pick a lock). Stole a tape with a date on it (happened to be my birthday), and took it home. It was a recording of some preacher.

Paging GOD....

yt1300inHtown · Post by **yt1300inHtown** » Fri Jan 28, 2005 10:11 pm

That reminds me of one time when we first moved to the burbs and all the yards were dirt with some grass seeds sprinkled on them ('sup Uncle Bob's yard in Urban Cowboy). We'd ride our bikes around the yards of the new houses and shit cause they made cool tracks for little BMXers.

Anyways, one day we noticed that the garage door material was soft because we accidentally hit one with a bike. So we spent the rest of the day with baseball bats hitting balls into the new home garage doors so that they looked like golf balls when we left.

As it got dark, we caught a couple frogs and went into one of the new houses and loaded up the microwave. What a fukken stench?!?!?!

Set that bad boy for 60 minutes and just left it like that.

ADAM · Post by **ADAM** » Fri Jan 28, 2005 11:05 pm

Rack MO!

I remember when jumping your BMX over insane shit was "it" growing up....We all wanted to emulate
"The Evel One" in the mid 70's....

I'd say I was around 8 and my friend Brandon and I wanted to build a huge ramp and jump over, no lying 10 garbage cans, with out the help of a landing ramp....Fuck That, we were EVEL! Well, I had just put a double goose neck on my Webco & Brandon had just put on some kind of new alloy rims. He goes first in true Evel style and checks the ramp by riding up it & backing down.....
I decide to go first and for it, and as I'm gaining speed I hit the ramp lift up and fall straight down
as the 6' x 8' piece of plywood flips over on top of me and smashes me between 3 fucking garbage cans!

Cuda · Post by **Cuda** » Fri Jan 28, 2005 11:13 pm

So THAT'S what the fuck happened to my garbage can

-sin,
R-Jack

chowd103 · Post by **chowd103** » Sat Jan 29, 2005 12:13 am

Holy Shit! Very funny stuff in this thread! I'm sure many of you are in therapy -Good luck and continued success!

MO- You win, fukka!! Hollywood is looking for stories bro! They need to come in here.

Hmmm...

I was about 5 which would put my brother at 12. It was a Friday night and it was his turn to watch me. My parents used go out on Friday nights. I would cringe when it was his turn 'cause dude used to whip up on me. I would get his ass back when I turned 19 and beat the shit out of him in front of his skanky-ass g/f, but that's another story.

Anyway, my sisters had just left and my brothers friends come over. They turned off the tv and put on that console stereo that had the built-in 8-track. Remember those fukkin' things? They were about the size of 2 coffee tables and weighed about 3-fiddy?

Anyway, dudes take my brother outside on the back porch & I can see 'em all smoking cigarettes. I go outside and his friends act nervous.
(12 yr old punks) Suddenly one of 'em offers me a "drag". I say no. My brother after about 5 minutes is able to talk me into it. So I take a "drag" and start choking & coughing like IRIE after driving past the dentist.

My brother gives me a look like this:

Then he says, Kev....Mom is gonna smell cigarettes on you! You're in trouble! I was like "Oh shit! What do I do?" Come with me. I run up stairs to the bathroom and he breaks out my Dad's Old Spice.
"Here"...rinse your mouth out with this! W/O hestitation, I do. By this time, all his punk-friends are looking at me going "BWAAAHAHAHAHA!"
I spit the cheap after shave into the sink and went and played GI Joes like it never happened.

See...

We had a "No Rat" policy. If I told my Dad half the shit my brother did to me he never would've seen his 16th birthday. Me & my bro are cool now and still goof on some of the shit he did to me.

David_Copperfield · Post by **David_Copperfield** » Sat Jan 29, 2005 1:41 am

chowd103 wrote:Me & my bro are cool now and still goof on some of the shit he did to me.

that's what it's all about, greg...when me and my brothers get together, we laught ourselves to tears talking about our childhood...

in my family there were just four boys, no girls...and my two cousins lived in the house behind us so our backyards connected. Out of all six of us, I am the youngest..anyways..my oldest brother who is five years older than the next (and ten years older than me) used to always run the show..and no matter what he wanted to do, we'd want to do also because he was just so cool...well one game he liked to play was where he'd be like "who here is a stuntman?" and of course we'd all be jumping up and down saying we were stuntmen. So he'd make us "prove it"...One time we spent half the day sitting on a bike with our legs up over the handle bars and he'd run full force pushing us right into a fence. The front wheel would hit and we'd go flying up into the chain-link and fall down hard with the bike falling onto us! Then he'd be like "who thinks they can do it better than David?" and everyone would be like "ooh i can!!" and they'd sit there and let him launch them into a fence over and over and we'd all get hurt but wouldn't say anything because we were stuntmen...He'd get us to do anything...

JCT · Post by **JCT** » Sat Jan 29, 2005 1:51 am

chowd103 wrote: console stereo that had the built-in 8-track. Remember those fukkin' things? They were about the size of 2 coffee tables and weighed about 3-fiddy?

.

No 8 track but I bought this about 2 years ago. Perfect condition and still has the original tubes in it.

Ruff · Post by **Ruff** » Sat Jan 29, 2005 2:38 am

That is exactly the set up my grandparents had back in the day. Damn, is that worth something today??

socal · Post by **socal** » Sat Jan 29, 2005 3:11 am

Rack the ever living fuck out of Moorese.

stuckinia · Post by **stuckinia** » Sat Jan 29, 2005 8:15 am

threw a rock through the church across the street's window, just because.

stomped in freshly paved sidewalk in front of disgruntled union poops, just because.

rode my friends bigwheels down church stairs into oncoming traffic. thank god no suvs back then.

mutually fondled neighborhood girl in her privates and butt (sup JayDuck) but not with crayons (later JayDuck)

rode my bike all over the suburbs of DC with no knowledge of the crack-ridden slums i was venturing into.

i cannot remember anything past the age of 12.

missjo · Post by **missjo** » Sat Jan 29, 2005 10:45 am

When I was 10 we had a White Fibro Kingdom hall of Jehovahs Witnesses about 3 doors up from our place

We couldn't stand the Jovies they used to clog our street up with traffic ever tuesday & thursday evening & all sunday morning
& come knocking on our door to bug us with their watchtower crap

So one afternoon whilst we were on school holidays I coerced a couple of neighbourhood kids into helping me strip the Mulberry tree which grew in the front yard of the hall & used the mulberries to paint the church a becoming shade of bright lavender pink but only as for as we could reach which was about halfway up so the whole building
what a hilarious sight that was

we never got busted & the wankers put a brick veneer on the hall by the time the haolidays were over

DamnTheCowboys · Post by **DamnTheCowboys** » Sat Jan 29, 2005 3:18 pm

When I was about 8, I was at the beach with my two brothers and my cousin. We were walking around the "point" early in the evening....this is where the island wraps around. Anyway, we are behind our parents and we saw a whole thing of fishing wire that someone had left on the beach. This thing was HUGE. We picked it up and started unraveling it as we went. I don't know how much fishing wire was in it but it seemed like we walked for miles. We got back to the car and my cousin hid it just enough so that our parents wouldn't see it. Since fishing wire is almost transparent anyway, they didn't notice the line. We closed the door with the end of the wire inside, and when that car started, it was just a huge adrenaline rush as we all looked at each other, sitting in the back seat together, and tried not to laugh. I don't know if anyone got hurt, but I can just imagine a mile of fishing wire zipping across the beach and down the road.

PSUFAN · Post by **PSUFAN** » Sat Jan 29, 2005 3:44 pm

When I was 15, I had a friend who was old enough to drive, and he had his own car. We used to drive around in it, causing havoc where possible.

One sunday afternoon in the spring, we were headed to the store to get some hot dogs and burgers and shit. We were on the road to the store, within sight of it. As we approached, we saw this hitchhiker thumbing along the road.

It had been raining that morning. As we approached the hitchhiker, in perfect position there was a massive puddle along the road. Without so much as a word, my friend floored it, and zoomed toward the puddle.

The hiker never stood a chance. We hit the puddle fast. I'll never forget his face. He didn't even try to move, it was hopeless. He got soaked top to bottom with a HUGE amount of water.

It was VERY uncool...but I don't think I've ever laughed as hard as that since. It was set up so perfectly...and executed flawlessly...it just had to happen.

So, we drove another 200 yards and parked the car in the store lot. Of course, the dude was running like a demon to get to us...we were so busted up that we forgot that he might try to retaliate. So, as we saw him, we ran back into the car and zoomed off...it was close. He almost got to us.

We felt bad about that, but I still get a good laugh about it as I remember it. Some evil stuff is just funny.

Variable · Post by **Variable** » Sat Jan 29, 2005 4:46 pm

I had one of those BB pistols that was powered by a CO2 cartridge when i was 11. I bought it off a buddy of mine for $15. My mom told me that she didn't think I was old enough to have something that powerful because i'd end up hurting myself. Naturally, I thought she had no idea what she was talking about and went up to my room to practice my old west moves. :roll: I put the safety on and began making a fake shooting motion and trying to twirl it into my pocket/holster. I did this horribly a few times, turned the safety off and did some target practice at a sheet of paper.

Then I got the brilliant idea that the coolest thing would be to shoot a bullseye, twirl the gun and put it in the holster. I cocked the gun, and then realized that I wasn't good enough at the twirl yet. I was about to check the safety, then realized that there's no way I would cock the gun and leave the safety off! So I twirled that sucker *whoosh* *whoosh*, and went to put it in my holster when *BLAM!* I shot myself right in the foot, taking off a thin piece of skin about the size of a dime and leaving a shallow crater in the middle.

Ouch.

Terry in Crapchester · Sun Jan 30, 2005 3:04 am

When I was about 4 years old, we had a neighbor down the street named Mrs. Heinrich. She was about 150 back then, and she's no doubt dead by now. Anyway, some of the older kids told me she was a witch, and I believed them -- literally.

One day, a bunch of us were playing on a neighbor's swing. It was one of those old-school four-seaters that went around in circles, sort of a slow-motion tilt-a-whirl. Anyway, there were more than four of us, we were arguing about whose turn it was and making a lot of noise, when Mrs. Heinrich, who lived next door to the house in question, came out to yell at us. Anyway, seems a few of the other kids had heard the same stories I did, and we all took off -- me like a bat out of hell, in full sprint mode all the way home.

By the time I got home, I figured Mrs. Heinrich was still chasing after me, and started looking frantically for a place to hide. I saw the oven, thought about it for a moment, then remembered Hansel and Gretel and decided against it. Finally, I settled on the refrigerator, and started frantically clearing out enough food to fit in there.

By and by my younger brother, who had been up there with me, came home. He asked me what I was doing, and I told him I was hiding from Mrs. Heinrich. He thought that was a good idea, so both of us started to get in the refrigerator.

Right around that time, Mrs. Heinrich showed up at my house and started talking to my mother. My mother came into the kitchen and saw my brother and I trying to get into the refrigerator. She made both of us come out and apologize to Mrs. Heinrich. I was just grateful that I didn't get eaten.