My most gullible moment
Someone once told me that gullible wasn't in the dictionary and I went, "yeah yeah ha ha" but when they were gone that didn't stop me checking. What was YOUR most gullible moment? Zero points for buying an icon on b3ta.
( , Thu 21 Aug 2008, 18:33)
Someone once told me that gullible wasn't in the dictionary and I went, "yeah yeah ha ha" but when they were gone that didn't stop me checking. What was YOUR most gullible moment? Zero points for buying an icon on b3ta.
( , Thu 21 Aug 2008, 18:33)
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And so I found myself, covered in white stuff
Science practicals always were a great experience at my secondary school. We'd seldom get the equipment out, so any lesson where we'd forgo the books would lead to some mishap; paper aeroplanes set on fire with bunsen burners and launched out of windows; the slightly special kid dipping his nose into copper sulphate and finding his nose turn blue - the usual shenanigans.
On this one, fateful day, it was my turn to be the centre of the action. We were doing a bog-standard experiment, the kind that seems dangerous and exciting to a 13-year old, but in reality was so simple a quadriplegic rhesus monkey could handle. It was something involving the bunsen burners and a chemical or two anyway - the exact details have since been lost as my mind tries to blot out the memory. Bunsen burners and chemicals... Certainly no place for talcum power.
Yes, talcum powder.
As our experiment came to a happy (and slightly charred) end, my most trusted, straight-faced friend turned to me and said "now we need the talcum powder".
The usually proficient cogs in my mind whirred back and rewound to the teacher's lesson instructions. I could find no mention of talcum powder, but this accomplice was not the sort to play a practical joke. Dutifully, I trotted to the teacher's desk and asked without hesitation "can we have the talcum powder please?"
Needless to say, the teacher was slightly taken aback. He asked me what I wanted, sounding bewildered, and I proudly re-iterated my request. Only then did it occur to me that I might well have been "had".
I can still remember the teacher, who bore a striking resemblance to Dave Grohl, as his face cracked first into a wide, shit eating grin, and then an uncontrollable laugh.
"Talcum powder?!" he burst out. By now, the other students who'd been earwigging on the conversation started laughing too. I nodded, my face turning a shade of red. "hold on" he said between his giggles, and he strolled to his desk to produce a tube of talcum powder.
Quite why I took the item, knowing it wasn't needed and that I'd been the subject of a ruse, I don't know to this day. But take it I did, and I walked back to my desk, and with it, the smirking faces of my friends.
Could it get worse? The answer, as always, was a resounding yes. In my haste to sit down and avoid the stares of the class, I tripped up. The talcum powder container slammed on the ground and burst, covering me in its fine white contents, like a million Christmas snowfalls delivered at once by Satan. The skitters and giggles from my classmates were swept away as a crescendo of laughter took its place, with me lying prone on the floor, covered in talcum powder. I could do no more than hope it would cover me entirely and save me from view.
I never lived it down.
( , Fri 22 Aug 2008, 0:08, Reply)
Science practicals always were a great experience at my secondary school. We'd seldom get the equipment out, so any lesson where we'd forgo the books would lead to some mishap; paper aeroplanes set on fire with bunsen burners and launched out of windows; the slightly special kid dipping his nose into copper sulphate and finding his nose turn blue - the usual shenanigans.
On this one, fateful day, it was my turn to be the centre of the action. We were doing a bog-standard experiment, the kind that seems dangerous and exciting to a 13-year old, but in reality was so simple a quadriplegic rhesus monkey could handle. It was something involving the bunsen burners and a chemical or two anyway - the exact details have since been lost as my mind tries to blot out the memory. Bunsen burners and chemicals... Certainly no place for talcum power.
Yes, talcum powder.
As our experiment came to a happy (and slightly charred) end, my most trusted, straight-faced friend turned to me and said "now we need the talcum powder".
The usually proficient cogs in my mind whirred back and rewound to the teacher's lesson instructions. I could find no mention of talcum powder, but this accomplice was not the sort to play a practical joke. Dutifully, I trotted to the teacher's desk and asked without hesitation "can we have the talcum powder please?"
Needless to say, the teacher was slightly taken aback. He asked me what I wanted, sounding bewildered, and I proudly re-iterated my request. Only then did it occur to me that I might well have been "had".
I can still remember the teacher, who bore a striking resemblance to Dave Grohl, as his face cracked first into a wide, shit eating grin, and then an uncontrollable laugh.
"Talcum powder?!" he burst out. By now, the other students who'd been earwigging on the conversation started laughing too. I nodded, my face turning a shade of red. "hold on" he said between his giggles, and he strolled to his desk to produce a tube of talcum powder.
Quite why I took the item, knowing it wasn't needed and that I'd been the subject of a ruse, I don't know to this day. But take it I did, and I walked back to my desk, and with it, the smirking faces of my friends.
Could it get worse? The answer, as always, was a resounding yes. In my haste to sit down and avoid the stares of the class, I tripped up. The talcum powder container slammed on the ground and burst, covering me in its fine white contents, like a million Christmas snowfalls delivered at once by Satan. The skitters and giggles from my classmates were swept away as a crescendo of laughter took its place, with me lying prone on the floor, covered in talcum powder. I could do no more than hope it would cover me entirely and save me from view.
I never lived it down.
( , Fri 22 Aug 2008, 0:08, Reply)
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