I am not sure what the worst thing I have ever done is, but here’s a selection of bastardry.
When I was a teenager we used to wait until somebody was about to take a drink and then hit the bottom of the bottle/carton so that they would spill it. One day a group of us were camping out and getting drunk in the woods on cheap cider and a mate decided cook beans a tin of beans on the fire. Despite being pissed, he managed to cook and eat his beans and then he put the can to his lips to drink down the remaining sauce and that was the moment I drunkenly thought it would be hilarious to punch the bottom of the tin into his face. So so so much blood.
When I was a kid I used to like to steal things just to hide them in my younger brothers room so he would get into trouble. He would deny it and cry his eyes out saying it wasn’t him, but I always had a perfect sensible alibi of “why would I steal something just to give it to him?”.
When I first started driving, a group of us were going somewhere and an annoying kid that hung around with us asked if he could come along. I said yeah but he’d have to get into the boot as there was no space in the car. He agreed (which I didn’t expect him to!) and so into the boot he went, while I drove ridiculously fast through some country lanes. I am still amazed he got out of the boot laughing and saying it was fun.
Moggy wrote:When I was a kid I used to like to steal things just to hide them in my younger brothers room so he would get into trouble. He would deny it and cry his eyes out saying it wasn’t him, but I always had a perfect sensible alibi of “why would I steal something just to give it to him?”.
Moggy wrote:When I was a kid I used to like to steal things just to hide them in my younger brothers room so he would get into trouble. He would deny it and cry his eyes out saying it wasn’t him, but I always had a perfect sensible alibi of “why would I steal something just to give it to him?”.
I rode on the roof of a car while drunk for a while by clinging on to the roof rack, not the worst thing I've done but probably one of the most stupid.
One thing i did do once, was the time i was approached by a fellow tourist asking me if i'd dropped a nearby 20 euro note, i said yes even though it wasn't mine.
I deserve to be marched through the streets with a stern looking woman behind me shouting 'shame, shame, shame...'
I once pretended I didn't speak English to an old lady at a train station intent on regaling me with the story of how there'd been bad weather round her way lately and the wind had blown her chimney off. I knew the story as I had overheard her telling it to around a half dozen commuters already.
I shot a kid. He was 13 years old. Ohhh, it was dark, I couldn't see him. He had a ray gun, looked real enough. You know, when you're a rookie, they can teach you everything about bein' a cop except how to live with a mistake. Anyway, I just couldn't bring myself to draw my gun on anybody again.
Godzilla wrote:I shot a kid. He was 13 years old. Ohhh, it was dark, I couldn't see him. He had a ray gun, looked real enough. You know, when you're a rookie, they can teach you everything about bein' a cop except how to live with a mistake. Anyway, I just couldn't bring myself to draw my gun on anybody again.
Godzilla wrote:I shot a kid. He was 13 years old. Ohhh, it was dark, I couldn't see him. He had a ray gun, looked real enough. You know, when you're a rookie, they can teach you everything about bein' a cop except how to live with a mistake. Anyway, I just couldn't bring myself to draw my gun on anybody again.
This is probably more 'The most ill-advised' thing I've ever done, rather than the worst (I've been remarkably well-behaved over the last 42 years), and it certainly seems worse now than it did at the time. Anyways...
It was 1992 and I was in my last year of secondary school, and every year I had been involved in the school plays - usually on stage but occasionally doing lighting/props etc. This year I had opted out of taking an acting role as the play in question had been dreamed-up by one of the English teachers who fancied themselves as a bit of a creative type. Suffice to say, even a 15-year old could tell that it was gooseberry fool. However, helping out with the play presented many opportunities for being excused from actual lessons, and so I put myself forward for the role of 'Special Effects'.
It should have read 'Special Effect', as the only requirement was to create the sound of a robot exploding offstage, and it was proposed (by the Physics/Electronics teacher) that this would be achieved by running a 9V charge through a small firework - a 'banger', if you will.
The play was to have two performances - one during the day for the pupils, and one later that evening for teachers and parents, and the special guest - the mayor. So, during the first show the little lad dressed in his cardboard box robot outfit waddles offstage to his doom, and I dutifully spark up the banger which responds with a somewhat underwhelming 'PHUT!'. Taking a bit of personal pride in my responsibility, I decided that this wasn't good enough and something more substantial would be required for the evening's more prestigious performance.
Luckily, one of my mates had a gun.
A real one.
He was 4 years older than me and a bit of a weird one, and owning a gun (he actually had several of them, in various shapes and sizes) was pretty consistent with his personality. However, upon my request he did stipulate that I could only borrow it if I used blanks.
Anyways...
The evening performance of the school play came around and started as normal, with me standing backstage, concealing the loaded gun inside my coat, waiting for the moment. The play goes on for an hour or so and then, as per the earlier show, little cardboard robot-boy waddles offstage, expecting to see the special effects team (i.e. me) giving a 9V jolt to a tiny firework. What he sees is me, grinning, pointing a gun at him.
And then I pull the trigger.
I have never before or since heard a louder noise than what was produced by that gun. But one thing did come close...
The volume of robot-boy's voice when he screamed 'strawberry floating HELL!!!'
Legend has it that his outburst was thought to be part of the script by the audience, however, having just had the sudden, sobering, realisation that I had fired a strawberry floating gun in my school, I hadn't stuck around to guage the response to my special effect, and was legging it across the school sports field.
Stopping only to turn around and fire off one more shot, with a 'Yee-haa!'.
That sort of thing would be frowned-upon these days.