» Lies Your Parents Told You

My Dad, Haggi and an animal expert.
I know the haggis one has been done already (left legs different length to the right), but my Dad took it a small step further... too far in fact.

When I was in primary school my class had a visit from a animal expert (from a Zoo I think), and in true primary school style, we all had to write about our favourite animals... I chose the Haggis, and based it soley on what my Dad had "taught" me.

So this article described how Haggis's (or Haggi for plural) are small, hedgehog-like animals that lived in Scottish mountainsm and how there were 4 different types of haggis:
Ones with shorter left-legs that could only run anti-clockwise round mountains,
Ones with shorter right-legs that could only run clock-wise,
Ones with shorter front legs that could only run up the mountain,
and
Ones with shorter back legs that could only run down.
Catching Haggi was incredibly easy. All you had to do was jump out infront of one, and it would be so scared it would turn around and try to run the other way, but, with the short legs on the wrong side it would unbalance and tumble down the mountain, where you have another man waiting with a giant net.

Not only was my teacher highly amused when she saw what I'd written, she showed it to the animal expert, and also, when my mum came to collect me, the teacher showed it to her. My Dad took a while to live that one down.
(Thu 15th Jan 2004, 15:41, More)

» Irrational Fears

teeheehee
I had a fear that, when ice-cream vans played their music, it meant they'd run out :-D

*runs away, diving for cover*
(Tue 27th Jan 2004, 22:21, More)

» Near Death Experiences

Bicycle Helmets and Cricket Balls
Two Stories:
1) Being young and cocky when I used to cycle to school I used to ride home past this earth mound. Being bored one lonely ride home I decided to ride over this mound and jump off the other side.

So hurtling over this mound as fast at I can I get to the other side and completely mis-time my jump.

I drop straight down 2 feet on to solid ground, landing with the full force on the front forks. The buckle, I go flying over the handlebars and the bike follows. I land flat on my back and look up just in time to see the back-end of my fall into my face, gears first.

Luckily I was wearing my new cycle helmet, but if I hadn't, I'd have had the full force of the bike, focussed through the nut that held the back wheel on (and nothing else), smacking me in the forehead. I'd have probably been a goner.

2) I hated cricket. I found it the most boring sport I ever had the mis-fortune to be forced to play at school.

One dull game I was fielding and the ball rolled to my feet. With the batsman about to run in I thought "What the heck" and threw the ball (a proper cricket ball) full pelt at the stumps.

Unfortunately I'm a lousy shot, and I actually threw the ball at head-height towards the mental kid in the class who was looking the other way.

Luckily (being a lousy shot) I managed to miss him by a gnats-gonad, but I got away with nearly killing him because of his learning difficulties that rendered him oblivious to pretty much anything not stuck right in front of him.

I felt so guilty that I nearly killed him that I've never played cricket with a proper ball since.
(Thu 25th Nov 2004, 13:04, More)

» World's Sickest Joke

What's...
...brown, runny, and hides in the loft?

The diarrhea of Anne Frank.
(Fri 10th Sep 2004, 15:03, More)

» Foot in Mouth Syndrome

I quit shortly after...
Possibly a pearoast, but my drug-addled brain prevents me from remembering, so here I go... again... maybe...

I used to work in a call centre answering calls on behalf of other companies, pretending to be that other company, then passing the message on when they returned from lunch, or the following morning.

So about lunchtime this call drops in to me (names changed for Obv. reasons)...
Me: "Good afternoon, ***blah*** Funeral Directors. How can I help?"
Caller: "Hello, my name is Mr. Brown. I'm wondering if it would be OK for me to pop in and see Mrs. Brown?"
Me (not knowing the name of *anyone* who worked for this funeral directors): "I'm sorry, but Mrs. Brown is a bit busy. If you want, I'll ask her to contact you when she gets a spare moment."

It's at this point my mind begain screaming "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!"

Caller (with me awaiting the inevitable): "No, you don't understand..."
No. I understood. I understood only to well... just far, far too late.
"... Mrs. Brown is my wife. She died last week."

A combination of realised-stupidity, and the mental image of some doddery old bloke avidly waiting by a ouija board for a reply meant I had to put him on hold while I disintegrated into a mixture of hysterics, tears and sheer panic as to what to say next.
(Wed 21st Apr 2004, 14:06, More)