@Imperfect: I your dad.

*fish crotch story* Man, that whole story, I was waiting for you to freak out, flip the boat, and ruin your dad's brand new video camera. Still a good story though.

Looking back, I should have. But nah, my Dad's cool. I like to think that I'd have done the same damn thing.

Wasn't until about half an hour later that I remembered how I asked the question, "Excuse me, do you have a history of violence?" Oh, just... Godammit. Can't imagine what was going through that guys head when I was pressing him for an answer... Haha. Your story trumps mine but I've been on the receiving end of two similar questions right in a row from my "physician" i.e. whatever doctor was free that day. Him: So what do you do when you're not busy at work? Me : Oh I like to watch movies, play video games, surf the net, that type of thing. Him : AT WORK?! Me : *realizes that even if I had understood his question, what the fuck did he care? ironically, with the exception of watching movies, it would have been the same list anyway* Him : Have you had any recent surgery? Me : Yes, I got a cyst removed last year. Him : Oh? Where did you get that done? Me : At the doctor's office in my hometown. Him : No I mean where on your body? Me : Is there someone else I can talk to? Seriously was this his first history or what? I refuse to believe the manner in which he asked questions hadn't caused multitudes of confusion among his likely dwindling list of patients. See, when he asked you where you had your surgery, I immediately thought where on your body. Just seems like that would be the logical question the doctor would ask.

Wasn't until about half an hour later that I remembered how I asked the question, "Excuse me, do you have a history of violence?" Oh, just... Godammit. Can't imagine what was going through that guys head when I was pressing him for an answer... Haha. Your story trumps mine but I've been on the receiving end of two similar questions right in a row from my "physician" i.e. whatever doctor was free that day. Him: So what do you do when you're not busy at work? Me : Oh I like to watch movies, play video games, surf the net, that type of thing. Him : AT WORK?! Me : *realizes that even if I had understood his question, what the fuck did he care? ironically, with the exception of watching movies, it would have been the same list anyway* Him : Have you had any recent surgery? Me : Yes, I got a cyst removed last year. Him : Oh? Where did you get that done? Me : At the doctor's office in my hometown. Him : No I mean where on your body? Me : Is there someone else I can talk to? Seriously was this his first history or what? I refuse to believe the manner in which he asked questions hadn't caused multitudes of confusion among his likely dwindling list of patients. See, when he asked you where you had your surgery, I immediately thought where on your body. Just seems like that would be the logical question the doctor would ask. Same here. I may have interpreted it as asking which office or something, but I would have apologized for misunderstanding him, not just assume the guy who spent years in medical school was an idiot.

Not embarrassing, but certainly a strange moment. My roommate and I just met for lunch at a Chinese buffet. We were eating and chatting. One of the women seated at a table behind us very audibly said "Gracias!" We hypothesized for several minutes, checked to see if she was Hispanic (she was not), and couldn't come up with any reasonable context where that made any sense at all.

I say "danke" all the time and I'm not German....

I say "danke" all the time and I'm not German.... At a Chinese buffet?

Todays embarassing moment: getting played like a fiddle by a dumbass wannabe conman who you see every day (and know he's criminal scum) but momentarily forget what he looks like and allow him to sneak behind the counter and steal your cellphone. Damnit.

Well I have another story to share. When I was a teenager, my mother bought me a box of condoms. She pull me aside and gave them to me. Giving me a whole speach about how she doesn't like that I'm having sex with my girlfriend but wants me to be safe. And if I needed more, she would get them for me. She was really cool about it, for a mom I guess. It was a little odd at the time, and I would have not have thought twice about it until I saw the box. It wasn't a single pack, or even a 3 pack. She bought me a 20 pack of condoms. A 20 pack. I just kinda of looked at her and promised I would used them every time. I put them in a bowl on my headboard so I could just grab one when needed. The embarassing part is was when I asked her if she could buy me another box. It was only a month later. The shocked/angery look on her face made me feel bad. But she did. My mom is awesome.

I say "danke" all the time and I'm not German.... Me too. I also say Nyet even though I'm not Russian.

Well I have another story to share. When I was a teenager, my mother bought me a box of condoms. She pull me aside and gave them to me. Giving me a whole speech about how she doesn't like that I'm having sex with my girlfriend but wants me to be safe. And if I needed more, she would get them for me. She was really cool about it, for a mom I guess. It was a little odd at the time, and I would have not have thought twice about it until I saw the box. It wasn't a single pack, or even a 3 pack. She bought me a 20 pack of condoms. A 20 pack. I just kinda of looked at her and promised I would used them every time. I put them in a bowl on my headboard so I could just grab one when needed. The embarrassing part is was when I asked her if she could buy me another box. It was only a month later. The shocked/angry look on her face made me feel bad. But she did. My mom is awesome. Wow. thats... just.. wow. How many balloon animals did you make?

I say "danke" all the time and I'm not German.... I do the exact same thing.

Well I have another story to share. When I was a teenager, my mother bought me a box of condoms. She pull me aside and gave them to me. Giving me a whole speech about how she doesn't like that I'm having sex with my girlfriend but wants me to be safe. And if I needed more, she would get them for me. She was really cool about it, for a mom I guess. It was a little odd at the time, and I would have not have thought twice about it until I saw the box. It wasn't a single pack, or even a 3 pack. She bought me a 20 pack of condoms. A 20 pack. I just kinda of looked at her and promised I would used them every time. I put them in a bowl on my headboard so I could just grab one when needed. The embarrassing part is was when I asked her if she could buy me another box. It was only a month later. The shocked/angry look on her face made me feel bad. But she did. My mom is awesome. Wow. thats... just.. wow. How many balloon animals did you make? None. Well I did use one as a water ballon. It was senior year and we both didn't have class till 1 o'clock. Every week day she came over in the morning, we got high and then fucked. For about 4 months.

At any stage did you buy your own condoms?

At any stage did you buy your own condoms? Well my mom got pissed at me when I asked for a 2nd box. She got it for me but told me that was the last one she was going to buy for me. So after they were gone, it was about pulling out. I did keep one in my wallet just incase. I wasn't worried about STDs as much as getting her knocked up. I guess she was to because she dumped me after I busted a nut in her after we had sex at a party. I did buy my own condoms after I moved out and was on my own. But was with a totaly different girl.

jesus how hard is it to buy some rubbers on your own

Okay, I can't believe I didn't remember this before, but I have a story to tell. It's not embarrassing, but it more then makes up for that by dint of strangeness. Spoilered for lots. Spoiler: show spoiler hide spoiler I was at Woodford Folk Festival last year. For those who don't know, which is probably most of you, that's a large Australian folk music festival. Folk means lots of hippies, and lots of hippies means lots of weed. I was there with a friend, and neither me or him had ever smoked dope before, so we were both looking to try some and see if it lived up to the hype. We ran into another guy we knew at the festival, someone who we both knew is a bit of a stoner, and one night we got high together. It was fun. So far so good. So the next day, we meet up with our mutual friend and decide to go off and get high again. He doesn't have anymore pot, but some of his friends do, so we have to go and find their tent. Now, Woodford is a huge festival in Australia, so the camping grounds stretch for miles, and their tent is at the very end. There's supposed to be a shuttle bus back and forth, but none are forthcoming, so we end up walking the whole way down through the camping grounds. After maybe half an hour, we find this collapsing little tent next to the grassy slope that marks the very edge of the campgrounds. We meet a couple of his friends, they have the drugs, and that grassy slope looks like an awfully inviting place to sit and get a little bit fucked up. So there are five of us sitting in a circle and passing round a joint. Me and friend #1 don't know two of the guys, they don't know us, but it's all good. It's probably just the dope, but for same reason, things start to seem strange to me. All of a sudden, everything seems scripted. Our unwitty stoner banter starts to feel like a bad stoner comedy that's all been written out in advance. But that's just the drugs. Things haven't really started to get weird yet. First, some guy climbs up the slope a good distance away from us to take a piss. We freak out a little bit because we're not exactly being subtle here. But no-one cares if you smoke pot at Woodford. We'd been right out in the open last night and no-one had so much as glanced our way. So no matter. But then, another guy begins to climb the slope, and he's coming directly for us. He makes his way to our little group looks at us, and says - I can't remember his exact words, so all his dialogue will be paraphrased. He says "Having a bit of a smoke, eh?" Fairly innocuous words. But the thing that's hard to convey on paper is that there is something terribly wrong with this guy's voice. The guy looks down at us and says "Anyone got a light?" But his voice is stilted, awkward, fast and robotic. Superficially normal, maybe, but there's an undertone that I can only describe as completely unnatural. It's almost as if he's reading from a script. In fact, this whole encounter seems, bizarrely, scripted. Someone gets the courage to say "No, mate, sorry" in a small voice. The guy just looks at us, and there's also something wrong with his entire body language - it's just inexplicably off, somehow. And he says, menacingly "Well, if you haven't got a light..." "...then you'll have to come and party with us!" Total non-sequiter, and we're all a bit shocked. After all, we had honestly expected to be physically attacked. He looks at our puzzled faces and says "You know, drinkin' party. Well, okay, smokin'. Drinkin', smokin', whatever. Come on, come down to the tent." And we're stuck, for two reasons. We have no idea how this guy is going to react if we don't party with him. His body language is completely unreadable, even alien. And we don't know some of the guys we're smoking with. So when we all start saying "yeah, okay", we're faking it, but we have no idea if the other guys are. Are they seriously planning on going off with this guy? When you add in the fact that we're all kind of stoned, I seriously have no idea what's going on, and it's scaring the shit out of me. I lean over to Friend #1 and say, in an absolute whisper "I don't think this is a good idea." He says, in the same tone "I agree." But now these strangers giving us a hand up and leading us down to the tent, and we know we have to sneak off as soon as possible. Fortunately for us, the campsite is kind of a maze of tents. So us five let the strangers get ahead, and then we take a side exit and sneak off onto a different path. I am glad to see that our smoking buddies are coming with us; evidentially, they're no less freaked out then we are. But someone looks back, and it turns out the party people are, of course, following us. We increase the pace, praying that they aren't going to chase us all the way across the campgrounds. And we get to the bus stop and (thank you, Buddha and Jesus and Xenu) a bus has just pulled up, and we're just in time to get the hell out of there and never look back. Turned out later that our new friends with the ganja had been just as unsure if we were going to take the stranger up on his offer, and that one of them had a theory about the guy's utter wrongness. That is apparently what people are like doing speed. And after all that, it turns out I don't even like marijuana.

jesus how hard is it to buy some rubbers on your own Well when you're 17 and don't have a job, really fucking hard. You can't buy shit when you don't have money.

Okay, I can't believe I didn't remember this before, but I have a story to tell. It's not embarrassing, but it more then makes up for that by dint of strangeness. Spoilered for lots. Spoiler: show spoiler hide spoiler I was at Woodford Folk Festival last year. For those who don't know, which is probably most of you, that's a large Australian folk music festival. Folk means lots of hippies, and lots of hippies means lots of weed. I was there with a friend, and neither me or him had ever smoked dope before, so we were both looking to try some and see if it lived up to the hype. We ran into another guy we knew at the festival, someone who we both knew is a bit of a stoner, and one night we got high together. It was fun. So far so good. So the next day, we meet up with our mutual friend and decide to go off and get high again. He doesn't have anymore pot, but some of his friends do, so we have to go and find their tent. Now, Woodford is a huge festival in Australia, so the camping grounds stretch for miles, and their tent is at the very end. There's supposed to be a shuttle bus back and forth, but none are forthcoming, so we end up walking the whole way down through the camping grounds. After maybe half an hour, we find this collapsing little tent next to the grassy slope that marks the very edge of the campgrounds. We meet a couple of his friends, they have the drugs, and that grassy slope looks like an awfully inviting place to sit and get a little bit fucked up. So there are five of us sitting in a circle and passing round a joint. Me and friend #1 don't know two of the guys, they don't know us, but it's all good. It's probably just the dope, but for same reason, things start to seem strange to me. All of a sudden, everything seems scripted. Our unwitty stoner banter starts to feel like a bad stoner comedy that's all been written out in advance. But that's just the drugs. Things haven't really started to get weird yet. First, some guy climbs up the slope a good distance away from us to take a piss. We freak out a little bit because we're not exactly being subtle here. But no-one cares if you smoke pot at Woodford. We'd been right out in the open last night and no-one had so much as glanced our way. So no matter. But then, another guy begins to climb the slope, and he's coming directly for us. He makes his way to our little group looks at us, and says - I can't remember his exact words, so all his dialogue will be paraphrased. He says "Having a bit of a smoke, eh?" Fairly innocuous words. But the thing that's hard to convey on paper is that there is something terribly wrong with this guy's voice. The guy looks down at us and says "Anyone got a light?" But his voice is stilted, awkward, fast and robotic. Superficially normal, maybe, but there's an undertone that I can only describe as completely unnatural. It's almost as if he's reading from a script. In fact, this whole encounter seems, bizarrely, scripted. Someone gets the courage to say "No, mate, sorry" in a small voice. The guy just looks at us, and there's also something wrong with his entire body language - it's just inexplicably off, somehow. And he says, menacingly "Well, if you haven't got a light..." "...then you'll have to come and party with us!" Total non-sequiter, and we're all a bit shocked. After all, we had honestly expected to be physically attacked. He looks at our puzzled faces and says "You know, drinkin' party. Well, okay, smokin'. Drinkin', smokin', whatever. Come on, come down to the tent." And we're stuck, for two reasons. We have no idea how this guy is going to react if we don't party with him. His body language is completely unreadable, even alien. And we don't know some of the guys we're smoking with. So when we all start saying "yeah, okay", we're faking it, but we have no idea if the other guys are. Are they seriously planning on going off with this guy? When you add in the fact that we're all kind of stoned, I seriously have no idea what's going on, and it's scaring the shit out of me. I lean over to Friend #1 and say, in an absolute whisper "I don't think this is a good idea." He says, in the same tone "I agree." But now these strangers giving us a hand up and leading us down to the tent, and we know we have to sneak off as soon as possible. Fortunately for us, the campsite is kind of a maze of tents. So us five let the strangers get ahead, and then we take a side exit and sneak off onto a different path. I am glad to see that our smoking buddies are coming with us; evidentially, they're no less freaked out then we are. But someone looks back, and it turns out the party people are, of course, following us. We increase the pace, praying that they aren't going to chase us all the way across the campgrounds. And we get to the bus stop and (thank you, Buddha and Jesus and Xenu) a bus has just pulled up, and we're just in time to get the hell out of there and never look back. Turned out later that our new friends with the ganja had been just as unsure if we were going to take the stranger up on his offer, and that one of them had a theory about the guy's utter wrongness. That is apparently what people are like doing speed. And after all that, it turns out I don't even like marijuana. A story from a friend of mine: Before he decided he wanted to become a youth pastor, this friend loved living the high-life and would frequently go to every festival he could bum a ride to. On one occasion, (where he also almost dumped his girlfriend after discovering she wore the same panties for five days straight) he somehow figured out that if you stand at a certain angle to the viewer, you can make it appear as if you are levitating because they cannot see you are only lifting one foot off the ground. This of course, only works on the stupid and drunk, but he tried it with everyone. One of the people he did try it on, was someone named Mark*. Now, Mark was all right... liked to party and stuff. He also ate tabs of acid like they were some kind of freak-candy. So here's Mark, quietly freaking out by himself, when his best bud comes running up to him, says "Hey, dude! Check this out!" and then proceeds to levitate. Nobody knows if this alone was enough to bring out the reaction it did, or if his chemical-addled brain saw dread Yog-Sothoth's tentacles pulling his friend into the air, but he started screaming as loud as he possibly could, then turned and ran into the dense wildnerness in the dead of night. He spent the whole next day missing and only reappeared, pale, sick and covered in scratches, the following morning. Nobody wanted to ask him what he saw or did, and he never told them either.

I say "danke" all the time and I'm not German.... At a Chinese buffet? Every chiniese buffet around here, except for one, is run by Mexican immigrants.

jesus how hard is it to buy some rubbers on your own Well when you're 17 and don't have a job, really fucking hard. You can't buy shit when you don't have money. Every week day she came over in the morning, we got high and then fucked. Uh. I think, perhaps, that you did not think your cunning plan all the way through.

jesus how hard is it to buy some rubbers on your own Well when you're 17 and don't have a job, really fucking hard. You can't buy shit when you don't have money. Every week day she came over in the morning, we got high and then fucked. Uh. I think, perhaps, that you did not think your cunning plan all the way through. No man, all the cool kids are doing it. Just put your head in a trash bag, and stick your head in a bucket full of water. Repeat as necessary.

Quickie from walking around Seattle, phrased as a request because come on guys, seriously IF you are walking behind someone, and I don't care what your motivation is -- if you want to see if she has a nice rack, or if you are suspect of whether or not she has a rack, do not noticeably speed up, walk beside the person, briefly sneak a glance, and then expect that I will not notice either the glance or the fact you sped up again. If I actually had a rack, I might find this offensive or crass or something. But, as it is, all of the dipshits who decided to try and sneak a glance would not notice anything but the fact I don't have one and for Christ's sake I was trying to pass as a guy, so hopefully they got the picture. (Seeing the confused grimace of a businessman who did this was the highlight of my day.)

So Choco and I are watching TV at his place, we're sitting side by side and I'm leaning on him and I say something funny. He laughs, goes "You're sooooo cute" and grabs my boob and squidges it around all at once while his mom is about two feet away. What the hell, Choco.