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I threw a brick at one of my brother's friends and he had to be hospitalized. I'm not sure why I did it, in later years I'd call him a decent guy and later still his house burnt down so uh sorry dude 
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| # ? May 18, 2013 05:47 |
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| # ? May 25, 2013 12:18 |
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I once pooped in a old rain boot we found when I was spending a few days at a friends house and we dumped it out of the passenger side door handles of a taxi that was parked by his house. Poop boot. A thing I did.
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| # ? May 18, 2013 06:15 |
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sex pervert posted:I faked asthma to get out of PE (gym class) for 5 years. I got fat Ugh, I was even worse than this. I have asthma and figured out around 4th grade how to make myself have an attack. My mom would get frighteningly angry at me if I ever brought home anything less than a C, so I would strategically induce asthma attacks to give myself more time on assignments/get out of tests I wasn't ready for. I kept this up until 9th grade when I decided I just didn't care anymore, and also started worrying I would permanently gently caress up my lungs. Digital Fingers posted:I once pooped in a old rain boot I immediately started hearing this post in my head as a sea shanty.
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| # ? May 18, 2013 06:59 |
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One time in elementary school I stole a set of shiny cards/stickers that this one dude brought into class to show around. I just stole them. Then I told him that I saw another kid stealing them and burying them in the playground. He knew I was lying but, I was a good hider and I hid them so good even I never found them again. The kids name was James? I think he was half-Japanese, the cards had a Japanese flavor. James if you read this please don't call me out publicly, PM me instead.
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| # ? May 18, 2013 07:12 |
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In the 4th grade I got my hands on some exlax, so of course I proceeded to give it to all of my friends. They all ate a bunch and they of course experienced the great side effects. I thought it was pretty funny, until one of them told on me. I got dragged out of class by the principal and was threatened with a week suspension plus 2 months of detention, so thinking fast I said some older "teenager or adult" had given it to me telling me to give it to all my friends. He was also wearing a dark leather jacket - you know to make it sound more ominous. The police were called and I stuck to my story. The next day we had a assembly in the gym led by the RCMP about the dangers of taking things from strangers; due to the length of the assembly we also missed hot dog day. HOT DOG DAY. Oh, my principal or whatever teacher was available also escorted me home for an entire week. At least I wasn't suspended. 
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| # ? May 18, 2013 07:31 |
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Way back in the fourth or fifth grade, I forget which one it was, and maybe it was both, a group of my friends and I got bored during recess and we came up with a great way to pass the time. One of my friends had a little Lego pirate treasure chest, and we went to the far end of the big field by the school. We were looking for bees. We'd pin them to the ground, pull their wings out, and stuff them in the treasure chest. Then we'd search for an anthill nearby, and dump the writhing bees on top, wanting exciting bee on ant gladiator combat. It worked, the bees and ants would fight, the bees desperate but totally outnumbered each time. We thought it was the best, and did it many more times after that. I feel terrible thinking about all the bees we put to death doing that. 
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| # ? May 18, 2013 07:34 |
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Komoxdos posted:Way back in the fourth or fifth grade, I forget which one it was, and maybe it was both, a group of my friends and I got bored during recess and we came up with a great way to pass the time. One of my friends had a little Lego pirate treasure chest, and we went to the far end of the big field by the school. We were looking for bees. We'd pin them to the ground, pull their wings out, and stuff them in the treasure chest. Then we'd search for an anthill nearby, and dump the writhing bees on top, wanting exciting bee on ant gladiator combat. It worked, the bees and ants would fight, the bees desperate but totally outnumbered each time. We thought it was the best, and did it many more times after that. I feel terrible thinking about all the bees we put to death doing that. I'm pretty sure that almost all kids do bug fights. At least the ones that don't mind touching bugs.
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| # ? May 18, 2013 07:59 |
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Rollersnake posted:I immediately started hearing this post in my head as a sea shanty. Weigh heigh and up she rises Weigh heigh and up she rises Weigh heigh and up she rises Who poo poo in my boot?
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| # ? May 18, 2013 08:43 |
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I'm not really ashamed of this one because I got in trouble. (Because my getting in trouble was totally an over reaction) I was at that age when kids haven't yet learned that certain body parts aren't okay to talk about ( Of course I knew not to touch them)and I was at my grandparents house visiting family with my parents. It came time for me to hug my aunt and well... My mom is really tall, my dad is a fit military man, and my aunt is a shorter women who just got breast implants. So I sidle up for my hug and get a face full of giant artificial boob. The first thing out of my mouth was. " They feel like waterballoons." My mom and dad started yelling at me and my aunt just stood there laughing beet faced. I got grounded for a week, and to this day I still feel like it was an out of left field overreaction, when they could have just used it as a teaching moment.
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| # ? May 18, 2013 15:01 |
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I was extremely jealous of my brother. He was a model student and scout and while he wasn't perfect, he really seemed like it back then. We got new bikes and I can't even remember what he did to piss me off, but I punctured his tires with a tack over and over again while he was out. Sure, I was grounded for it, but I especially feel bad as an adult, because to this day he still doesn't know how to ride a bike.
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| # ? May 18, 2013 22:45 |
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What? Why didn't your parents just buy a new tube? It doesn't matter how many holes are in the tire, you just have to buy a new tube to put in. And him not being able to ride a bike is his own fault. It's not like you get once chance to learn when you're a kid or you're hosed. Don't feel bad about that. It was a lovely thing to do, but it's not even close to being regrettable.
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| # ? May 19, 2013 00:06 |
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The only thing I can think is they thought I would do it again (and I probably would've, I was a little poo poo). My brother was never very coordinated, so maybe I did him a favor, but it's still something I look back on and think "wow, I was a real rear end." It doesn't help that I was a very awkward child (now I'm just a very awkward adult). I once swung a kid and threw him, much like I was doing a shotput, because I thought he was harassing a girl. I was wrong. He was her brother. He was also 6 and I was 16. Granted, he wasn't hurt (he landed in those recycled rubber tires or whatever they use in playgrounds), but once I realized what I did and just how bad the situation was, instead of apologize, I ran off like a little chickenshit.
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| # ? May 19, 2013 01:56 |
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I had a neighborhood friend who was a slight deviant when we were kids. He convinced me to let him kiss my butt in his tree house. We couldn't have been older than 7 or 8 and I cringe when I think about it (and some of the other stuff). He's a priest now.
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| # ? May 19, 2013 02:40 |
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Ramaroot posted:I had a neighborhood friend who was a slight deviant when we were kids. He convinced me to let him kiss my butt in his tree house. We couldn't have been older than 7 or 8 and I cringe when I think about it (and some of the other stuff). That doesn't sound very "slight"
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| # ? May 19, 2013 05:54 |
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When I was 9-10 years old, I took a flight from California to Florida by myself to visit my grandparents. On my flight I was paired with this young girl around the same age, who was also flying alone. During the long flight we had talked a lot and were having a nice time. Towards the last hour or two, the young girl nervously wrote on a napkin and then handed it to me with complete silence. The first thing I noticed while receiving the napkin was how quiet she was and how some form of fear had wrapped itself around her. I opened the napkin and it asked "Would you like to be my boyfriend?", with a box to check yes or no. I stood there for a minute contemplating the idea. She was an average cute looking girl, but I had felt no deep emotional feeling towards her. Then the thought that it was completely impractical, as we would never really see each other again once the flight was over popped into my head and created the decisive decision. So I marked No on the napkin and gave it back to her. The first thing she did after reviewing my response was to turn towards me and pinch my arm a hard as she could. Then she bursted into tears and ran to the bathroom. She remained in the bathroom for the rest of the flight crying and when the flight attendant asked me if I knew why she was crying, I just told her that I had no clue. She only ended up coming back when it was time to land and completely ignored my presence for the remainder of our time near each other. What makes me feel bad looking back on it, was my view of the situation and how I could have just said yes knowing that I could make this other person extremely happy by just continuing our "relationship" for the remaining two hours of the flight. After that, either way, I would have never seen her again and nothing for myself would have been any different. Yet I chose the answer that completely destroyed this little girls self confidence. Mide fucked around with this message at May 19, 2013 around 08:39 |
| # ? May 19, 2013 08:34 |
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sparatuvs posted:That doesn't sound very "slight" He also coined the term "sunning." If showing your butt was mooning, showing the front must be sunning, right? Guess how I found that one out! I never sunned anyone, but I did flip off a bus full of kids and yell, "gently caress YOUUUUU!" at them when I was in kindergarten and walking home. Everyone with me was stunned. Including myself.
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| # ? May 19, 2013 23:45 |
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This is the most terrible thing I've ever done. I don't really talk about it with people, scratch that, I've never talked about it with people. It is one of those things that I will forget ever happened, and then something will bring it back and I get sick with guilt. It came to mind again a few days ago. It still upsets me greatly. When I was a kid, we had a German Shepherd. She was a fantastic dog to her family. I used to use her as a pillow as a kid. We could do anything to her, and she'd totally put up with it. What more could a family ask for in a family dog? To us, she was the sweetest. But she was also INSANELY protective of her family. She needed to be moved to a room and locked up if people came to visit us. We couldn't really take her for walks because if somebody got close to one of us, she'd get really on edge. It was understood that while she was an amazing pet, she was a danger to anybody outside her immediate family. (Note - this isn't something we trained her to do, she sorta came this way). The rules were clear. When people come over, the dog is put away. She is not to be brought anywhere near people who come to visit. Under no circumstances should you let her out when people are over. I don't remember how old I was. Old enough to know better. My brother had a friend. This kid's name was Peter. I don't remember much about him. He was this skinny, gawky kid who lived a few blocks away, across the street from a funeral home. I thought he was cool because one time I got to go to his house and he had all those Muppet Babies McDonald's toys, as well as the McDonald's Food Transformers. He and my brother would make up spooky stories about "THE DEVIL'S TRAIL" a dirt-track offshoot of the Illinois Prairie Path in our town. One day, Peter had come over to hang out with my brother. Normally, when somebody comes to visit they go to the front door and knock or ring the bell. Only family members, and people who are really close to us ever used the backdoor. To use the backdoor, you had to come up the driveway, let yourself into the backyard via the gate, and then walk over to the door. It was closer to the garage which was why it was the main means of coming and going for the family. It was how us kids came and went, how our parents came and went, and so it was hour or close friends were used to coming and going. The second Peter opened the gate, the dog knew. She knew and she went APESHIT because somebody was coming in the yard, and she had no idea who it was. We ran to the back window and saw Peter letting himself in, a smile on his face, tossing a baseball up into the air and catching it. The dog sprinted the back door, she's barking and snarling and going insane. INTRUDER! DANGER! she must have been thinking. It was a nice day out, so it was the screen door/storm door, not the actual door. The dog is jumping at it, barking like crazy. Each time she hits it, the whole thing rattles in its metal frame. Peter isn't really paying attention. My sister and I run to try and grab the dog at the door, my parents are trying to holler out the window, trying to tell him he needs to get out of the backyard and come to the front door. I thought it would be funny. I thought it would be a good joke on Peter. I thought it would scare the wits out of him and we'd all have a good laugh about how he scrambled over the fence, looking like he'd messed himself. My fingers went to the flat plastic handle of the screen door. I pushed it just a little bit. It upsets me just to think about it. I pushed it just a little bit, and the dog's weight on the door pushes it open, and she goes zipping out of the door in a flash of eyes and fur and teeth. I remember Peter running, running and crying out as she got to him. I swear I can still see him running, but the memory stops there. (Thank God) Our dog ended up mauling him pretty badly. My parents had to run out there, my dad pulled the dog off of Peter. I'm pretty sure they tossed him in the car and drove him to his house, somebody took him over to the hospital. He had to get all sorts of stitches. I don't know much about the follow up, I recall only seeing Peter one time after all of this, showing some of his stitches, but it's a sliver of a memory. I think one wound was close to one of his eyes, he'd nearly missed being blinded. My parents didn't get sued. Perhaps they came to some sort of agreement with his family, I don't know. We didn't have to put the dog down or anything, because technically he had let himself onto our property. Over time, Peter healed up well enough, he'd have some scars and a horrible phobia of dogs for the rest of his life. We didn't talk about it all that much afterwards. When it came up, if it came up, my parents would always say the same thing. "He shouldn't have run with the ball. She was just going after the ball," they'd explain as if that really explained anything. It wasn't our fault. It wasn't the dog's fault. It was Peter's fault. Peter let himself in the backyard. Peter was playing with a ball. Peter ran from the dog instead of staying still. As kids, that made sense to us. At 30, it sends shivers up my spine. They blame him. The family "legend" of this story places the blame on Peter, the victim, when it should have been assigned to me. One day my kid is going to be goofing around and ask me, "What is the worst thing you've ever done?" I suppose if I'm ever up to it, this would have to be the story I tell him.
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| # ? May 20, 2013 04:42 |
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Ignore this, wrong thread...
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| # ? May 20, 2013 06:56 |
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Eh you were a kid, the fact that your parents "raised" a violent untrained dog is 100% on them.
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| # ? May 20, 2013 07:10 |
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Roydrowsy posted:Dog Story Gotta agree with Baron up top. That was 100% on your parents. They knew she was a threat, kept her in the house, didn't instruct your friends on special protocols when dealing with the dog, and never sought any professional help in correcting the dog's behavior. That was their bad, not yours. Young kids literally lack the necessary brain development to control certain impulses. It's like asking a 1 month old baby to understand that when you cant see an object it still continues to exist.
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| # ? May 20, 2013 07:58 |
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| # ? May 20, 2013 08:44 |
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When I was 4 or 5 years old (early 90s), I walked over a large field next to our house and vandalized some random family's yard. I remember toppling their garbage bin and spreading the garbage all over the place. Also poured a bucket of ash on their cars front seat and threw their laundry on the ground. The next night I actually came back and did it again (??), and got caught when the man of the family chased me over the field, grabbed me, and made me show him where I live. Holy poo poo was I scared at that point. The next day those neighbors came to visit. I locked myself in the bathroom and heard them say that either me and my mother come to clean everything up (which we did of course) or they will call the police. When asked why I did it, I lied and said some bigger boy had threatened me into it. Don't know if anyone actually believed it. I really have no loving idea why I did it. I was always a good, sensitive and well behaved kid and still get deeply ashamed when thinking about that incident. Good thing I got caught though as I never did stupid poo poo like that again.
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| # ? May 20, 2013 09:23 |
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Worst thing i ever did as a kid.... I got my 'friend' kicked off a bus as a kid, it was pouring rain, we'd been to the cinema in Liverpool and we were on our way home... he was being a jackass (though not enough to deserve this really)... I had paid for his bus fair home (he'd spent his money and had nothing left at all) and I had the bus tickets and when the inspector came along i told him i only had one ticket, so the inspector kicked my 'friend' off the bus in liverpool... We lived in St Helens, thats a 20 mile walk from where he was to home.... We never talked after that for some reason... and i got such a smack from my dad for it as well.... To this day i don't know why i did it... and why i didn't fold at that point... I was just so pissed with him that i thought a 20 mile walk would be just revenge.... I shudder to think how i would have felt if something had happened to him...
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| # ? May 20, 2013 11:15 |
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My friend would poop in his pants then pull it out and go throw it in the garbage. He also ate dogfood. We collapsed the fort of this Mexican kid who stole some nintendo games from us. He was inside of it. We used to go take shits in the big up-ended tires buried in the school yard. We threw pepsi bottles (the glass kind) at a hobo who lived next to the store. Also stole bikes and threw them off the 18 story slides that you young whippersnappers are too pussy to have anymore  I was a piece of poo poo, moved away at 13 and became a good kid. He's in county jail in our hometown for meth.
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| # ? May 21, 2013 23:40 |
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Roydrowsy posted:Terrible untrained dog Congrats, your parents deserved to have the poo poo sued out of them for failing to train their dog properly and somehow didn't.
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| # ? May 22, 2013 00:41 |
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Jedi Knight Luigi posted:If only your parents had gotten a pug. I have a scar on my knee where a pug gnawed on me that might suggest otherwise.
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| # ? May 22, 2013 01:20 |
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Roydrowsy posted:They blame him. The family "legend" of this story places the blame on Peter, the victim, when it should have been assigned to me. Don't blame yourself. Blame your loving horrible parents, who let their violent untrained dog maul a child and blamed him for it. Christ, I almost threw up reading that. Poor peter.
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| # ? May 22, 2013 02:49 |
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Cold Milk Bottle posted:I have a scar on my knee where a pug gnawed on me that might suggest otherwise. This is absolutely hilarious in my mind's eye. Unless you were a baby at the time or something.
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| # ? May 22, 2013 15:54 |
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When I was like 6 I thought that spanking people was the funniest thing ever. I would run up to complete strangers, give 'em a slap on the bum then run away laughing my stupid little rear end off. I'm more ashamed of the occasions where I seriously hurt my sister when I was like 8 to 12, though. She loved to push my buttons when I was younger and I had a really nasty kind of temper where I would go from "stop annoying me! Stop annoying me!" to brutally punching and kicking with all my might in the span of about ten seconds with little to no warning. Since she's 3 years older than me and was/still is a fitness nut she was muscly for a preteen (whereas I am a scrawny nerd and have been my entire life) so usually the little spats turned out fine since back then I hit like...well, like the scrawny pre-pubescent nerd I was, I guess. Nothing more than some light bruises on both of us was the general outcome, is what I'm saying. But unfortunately on two occasions I ended up basically hospitalizing her, first when she poured milk down my back which set me off for some strange reason. I ended up flinging a fist sized rock at her, hitting her just below the eye and basically turning the entire left side of here face into a bloody mess. Gave her a scar that's still there, actually. Although it's faded, thankfully. The other time was when my family went white water rafting when I was like 10. It turns out that the combination of severe motion sickness, freezing cold water, a strange man yelling at me to "Paddle, stupid!" and the kind of horrifying terror that you can only really feel as a child being forced to do something he was scared of can put a kid into kind of a foul mood so I was pretty unhappy for most of the 3 hours we were doing it. And then in the 4th hour my sister decided it would be hilarious to begin spraying me in the face with a squirtgun from the other boat. And then keep on doing it for the final hour because I couldn't get to her. By the time we finished I was so loving angry that the instant and I mean the instant we landed the boats I had jumped out, dragged her out of the boat and just started whaling on her. I mean, the sort of poo poo they don't let directors put into hollywood movies because it's too disturbing. On the hard, jagged concrete ramp we were pulling the boats up onto. I can still vividly remember punching her in the chest hard enough to knock her down and then knee-ing her in the chin as she tried to get up...... This went on for maybe 2 minutes before someone pulled me away, don't know who, my memory of the whole thing is a bit hazy. We were too out in the middle of nowhere to get her to a proper hospital so my family had to settle on some tiny little medical center the size of a loving trailer to get her stitched up. Even though she was a bloody mess she thankfully didn't have any permanent damage. Man, I think I feel worse about it now that I'm typing it out, even though does feel good to get it off my chest. I'm really glad that I mellowed the gently caress out when I hit my teens. I get the feeling that kind of temper would not have served me at all well as an adult. And since that was probably pretty awful to read here's a little  ending note: Once I mellowed out we actually have become extremely close, like, I'm probably closer to her than I am to my mother or father and we get along fantastically well for siblings. And, since she turned out to be gay, we've made a fun habit of going to bars and playing wingmen to each other in order to pick up women. If that's not sibling love I don't know what is.
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| # ? May 22, 2013 16:22 |
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Once I was playing with my little sister and for some reason she started crying about something. I told her to quiet down, so I slapped her around a bit, not realizing that only exacerbated her crying.
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| # ? May 22, 2013 18:17 |
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| # ? May 25, 2013 12:18 |
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thehumandignity posted:Weigh heigh and up she rises 
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| # ? May 23, 2013 05:29 |
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