Arson, you were lucky to be at Knitting Factory and not any of the other half-dozen venues that would likely host a Rwake gig. I shudder to think of your fate had you been at one of the smaller places. There are some seriously gnarly bathrooms at some of the places I frequent.

kerble wrote:Number 1:

While I was in college, a few of my friends and I were walking around the dorm complex. We ran into some common friends and some strangers as well. I asked this group of people what they had been up to:

Me: "What'd you guys do tonight?"

Guy: "We went and saw the poster children"

Me: "I'm sorry"

Guy: "Why?"

Me: "Because you had to sit through Cap'n Jazz. That band sucks, so fucking much, god I hate them"

Group of people: (silence, crickets chirping)

Me: "I've offended someone, haven't I?"

Guy: (pointing thumb at dude next to him): "Yeah, he's their singer."

Me: "Kool. I'll see you guys later."

Faiz:Exit Stage Left.




Faiz

Amazing. This technically wasn't my embarassing moment, but a friend of mines. A couple of years ago we were at a house show and it was her birthday. Some friends of ours were playing and they aid they were going to do a song for her birthday. Apparently they had run into Travis Morrison (Dismemberment Plan) downtown earlier that day and he was going to do it with them. Birthday girl has been drinking whiskey solid for at least an hour before they play. After the show we are walking outside and Travis goes up to her and says happy birthday. My friend turns around and looks at him for a minute and then just says "who the fuck are you?" He seemed really taken aback and just walks away. About two weeks later she gets an email from him telling her he has written a song called Birthday Bitch that is going on his next album.

Boombats wrote:

Colonic Panel wrote:Now I was shivering with cold while still struggling desperately to contain the colonic pressure.

Colonic Panic?

Arson Smith wrote:...this was a serious "multi-wiper".

The real panic came after everyone had left the washroom. I had to leave the stall momentarily--with my pants gathered around my knees--and run over to the sink area, grab a handful of paper towels, soak some of them with water, add soap, and then run back to the privacy of the stall to scrub and then towel-dry my asscrack so I wouldn't contaminate my pants when I finally pulled them back up. All the while, I was praying to God that nobody would walk in at that moment.

Arson Smith wrote:I was so shamed by this, yet in my advanced years I knew it to be completely irresponsible to just slink away and act like nothing happened...

You don't wanna know about the condition I left that bathroom stall in... Suffice it to say it looked like somebody exploded a shit-bomb in there.

Nowadays, I'd never leave a toilet looking like that, but hey I was like 14 years old and late for a high school class.

Panic I actually cried I was laughing so hard at reading your story

One time a few years ago, I was playing golf with a couple of buddies. I suddenly got the urge to drop a couple major deuces. But the bathroom was half a mile away.

I started walking to the bathroom. Then I started sprinting as I realized the deuces were chomping at the bit. Finally, as I was running, I completely sprayed my legs with diarrhea. It was a huge deluge, and it stank so bad.

I had no other option but to walk home, because my buddy had driven us to the golf course. So I walked the two miles or so home with legs and ass completely polluted by brownie mix. By the time I got there the shit had solidified and I had a major rash on my taint due to the scraping of the solidified shit as I was power-walking.

I will never forget that day.

That's what you get for playing golf.

NerblyBear wrote:One time a few years ago, I was playing golf with a couple of buddies. I suddenly got the urge to drop a couple major deuces. But the bathroom was half a mile away.

I started walking to the bathroom. Then I started sprinting as I realized the deuces were chomping at the bit. Finally, as I was running, I completely sprayed my legs with diarrhea. It was a huge deluge, and it stank so bad.

I had no other option but to walk home, because my buddy had driven us to the golf course. So I walked the two miles or so home with legs and ass completely polluted by brownie mix. By the time I got there the shit had solidified and I had a major rash on my taint due to the scraping of the solidified shit as I was power-walking.

I will never forget that day.

I am laughing so hard that I am coughing.

Coughing.

Oh. My. God.

barndog wrote:

I used* to think that when a girl gave you a blow job, she actually blew on your dick.

A female acquaintance shared this same misconception in her early teens. After a (presumably devastating) attempt to test her theory on a friends penis she had to cope with hearing, "Hey WINDJOB!" every time she was within earshot for at least 2 years.
(ya know, at the pizza place, church, passing cars, shopping with her mother, etc.)

NerblyBear wrote:the urge to drop a couple major deuces

This needs its own name... I propose that henceforth this shall be known as either:

a) dropping a quad
b) dropping a 4-banger
c) (write-in candidate)

I have been cackling madly at this thread all day and must share.

When my wife and I were to be married we wanted to just head to the courthouse but at the insistence of her parents ended up settling on a cheap, small, and campy wedding chapel.

We did our best to try to eliminate the ridiculous things from the ceremony and ended up with some real hilarity:

After repeatedly asking that they remove the stupid kneeling bench we ended up leaning over it during the ceremony. My wife is 5'4" and I am 6'4" so that pretty much sucked for her

They asked if we'd like "The Lord's Prayer" during the wedding. My wife said no but I was all like, "I am sure that will be pretty tasteful and our parents would appreciate it." Queue Kenny Rogers style 70's wanna-be country version of it sung played on one of those tiny one speaker tape recorder deals. That brought the house down...

When my Father-in-Law was to give my wife away he stood up there for awhile since apparently the people running the show had a lot to say first. My mother-in-law was convinced he had missed the queue as he is pretty deaf and was doing the loud whispering deal that everyone could hear trying to get him to sit down which he didn't hear until she stood up right as they finally got to the giving away of the bride to try to make him sit down.

Best of all we were exchanging vows and instead of saying, "With this ring I thee wed" I somehow ended up saying, "With this ring I be wed." How redneck country can you get. Crappy wedding chapel in South Carolina with me vowing "WITH THIS RING I BE WED!"

My wife will never let me live this down...

I did have an awesome Freudian slip with my mom one time. I grew up in Clemson, SC and it is a typical college town with typical college kids doing their typical jogging and work-out regimens. One day we were driving through downtown and this stacked woman was jogging in one of those super tight jogging suits and I said, "Nice sports Breasts," while meaning to say, "Nice sports bra." Whenever my father and I are in the car and see a girl jogging he must point out to me that those are indeed, "Nice sports breasts."

I am having a hard time thinking of others at the moment. There are plenty no doubt.