Funny Stories

[XBoxMaster131]

Cause why the hell not! It can be any story that you can think of, be it something that happened to you, a friend, something you heard from a family member or read online, or even some funny D&D moments!



I'll go first:

Every year my family holds a big get-together on Christmas Eve at my grandparents house. It's always a blast: I get to see my family, watch some Christmas flicks with the younger kids, one of my uncles dresses up like Santa and hands out gifts (one time they even tried to convince me to do it!) and my Papi (that's my garandpa --- we're Italian) makes a lasagna that'll blow your damn mind!
So, anyway, I go out into the garage, where there's a bunch of beer, wine, liquor, and soda set up, and grab myself a Coke. Now, I absolutely hate alcohol. I've only tried a few drinks in my life, but every time it's either been so bad I spit it out, or I am just barely able to tolerate it. So I turn around to leave, and I notice a little tupperrware container with what looks like donut holes covered in cinnamon or sugar on the table with all the liquor. I'm all like "Oh, sweet!" So I grab one, pop it in, and start chewing.
A half a second goes by, and I am assaulted by the taste of what I can only describe as some unholy combination of rancid honey and expired cough syrup. I spit it out into the garbage and rushed to the bathroom. 5 minutes of gargling later and the taste has dissipated enough so that I could once again swallow.
I told my relatives of this, and they revealed to me the identity of those foul orbs. They were not sweet donut holes, but bourbon balls so saturated with booze that they were a fire hazard. Never again will I eat something of which I do not know its confirmed identity.

 

[ShySquare]

In the same vein, one Sunday, when I was eating with my family, my mom made potato salad with bits of mushrooms (I was still living with my parents at the time).
Being particularly hungry that day, I stab a bit of shroom with my fork.
Turns out it was a slug that had somehow survived being washed with the salad and doused in sauce, and that I had now killed in the most disgusting way.

I did not trust my mom to properly wash salad after that, so the next time she suggested making salad for dinner, I said I'd do it. While doing the washing, I removed 3 small slugs, 2 tiny worms and 2 lost ants from our salad (nothing too out of the ordinary so far, we get our salad from our garden so it's always a bit dirty).

That evening, I still ended up with a tiny slug in my plate.

And that's the story of how I learned never to trust salad, ever.

 

[Tinman]

And that's the story of how I learned never to trust salad, ever.

That was a lesson you needed to learn? I thought everyone knew that instinctively, like how birds know where to migrate.

Here's one from years ago that involves more pain than disgust. My family has had dogs for most of my life, always indoor dogs. We're running late for something and needed to leave but one of the dogs is in the backyard and refuses to come in. It rained recently so the yard is muddy. I chase the dog towards one of my parents only to slip in the mud and wind up doing the splits. The worst part is, my parents were too lazy to run to intercept the dog so I wound up muddy and in pain for nothing. At least there was no real injury from it.

 

[ShySquare]

That was a lesson you needed to learn? I thought everyone knew that instinctively, like how birds know where to migrate

Perhaps I should precise that before moving to the country with my parents, I was born and raised in one of the biggest cities in Europe and had never seen a salad that wasn't the calibrated, overwashed and overpriced specimen you can find in supermarkets before we moved. Those seldom have that many gasteropods in them.

Also, I was like, 12, and kind of a stupid kid.