Anecdotes.

[Don Alexander]

Was that question just general (Do you want to marry someday?) or did she actually mean "Do you want to marry me?"

If it's the latter, man, that's not even Epic Fail, that's just Game Over, and the coin slot is filled with peppermint bubble gum.

[GothPoet]

It was the latter. T_T

God, I suck.

[Fen]

I was telling my bf about my old habit of following people home, and he was like "How on Earth are you still alive?", so I figured I'd post a few of the anecdotes here.

So, back in the day, when I was travelling around the country not knowing anyone, I tended to always manage to find someplace to stay. But the way I found them were trather unorthodox. I mean, sometimes i would literally follow people home one way or another. I've even had it pointed out to me that if I didn't have the puppy eyes it would've been quite creepy:P. Now, I've done this dozens of times, but only a few make good stories.

Back when I was 16 I went to this city by the seaside to see some band. The concert was cancelled last-minute, so I was stuck in a city where I had no one's number and I didn't know my way around it that well. I passed a bar that had some metal music coming out, so I went in. As soon as I got in, I had this big, shirtless, metal dude come over, grab my throat and headbanging...which resulted in him whipping me with his hair on Cannibal Corpse. I went out, caught my breath and came back in. But, unfortunately, I looked terrified. I mean, Imagine this small girl, with huge frightened eyes, ridiculously big glasses and a wtfamIdoinghere look among big bad metalheads. I sit down at a table, order some beer(they had beers in cans, which was strange)...and soon enough the guy from earlier was on my table, stomping on the beer cans. I even made a sign that said I need a hug and hung it on me, only to realise that the only hug I got was from big bad metal guy from before. Shit. Ok. So I look around, it was mostly couples and big groups(hard to socialise with them), and notice two guys sitting at the table. Good! I go there, grab a seat, and soon enough the rest of their groups shows up, leaving only one guy unattended. I keep talking to that guy, friendly dude...and then Iook up.
Big bad metal guy took off his shirt and pants, was down to his undies...which he had shoved in his butt to make them look like thongs. And was dancing on the table. Big, bad, fat, hairy(and I mean HAIRY) metal dude. I found out he was the owner of this place . At that point I took out a blanket from my backpack, wrapped it around me, and called it my blanket of fear.

Eventually the guy said he wanted to go home, and I tried to persuade him to stay. Then, when it was clear that he would go...I followed him. I mean, I took my blanket, got up, and went on walking him home. When we got to his place in the other end of the city, we stayed a bit to talk in the block hallway, at which point I asked "shouldn't you get home?" "oh, yeah!" and left. o.O. So I just left the block, started walking outside, and after a few minutes heard my name called out. Poor boy was only going in to ask his mother if it's ok for me to stay over and you can picture his face when he found out I left. So i went in, we watched a movie, i left at about 6 am cause I had a train to catch. Later, he called me to say his mom didn't believe his story. "She says no girl would do that ". Apparently he's told the story about that night a few times over the years, since people seem to call me blanket girl whenever we run into eachother

Now, for more recent affairs. When I was in Amsterdam I managed to sprain my ankle...which was very bad given the fact that I had to walk a few miles every single day. So instead of resting it I decided to keep walking all night. And I did. But at 5am I had to go back to the club to pick up my backpack, and things went from OK to horrible then. I mean, it was a strain, and now I quite a few pounds of weight on my back and in my hand(the guitar). Also, Amsterdam isn't a straight walk. No matter how you go at it, every few minutes you have to walk up or down, and that's very heavy on a sprain. So I was walking towards the train station to take a nap on a boat, pretty much alone on the streets...Then a guy stops me.

In a pure london slight cockney voice "Oi, dýa know where tha fock I am?!". Some drunk guy was completely lost and asked me for directions. I happen to know Amsterdam quite well, so I figured I might as well. "Where do you have to go?" "HHH" "hihihi?" "HHH" "go it written down anywhere?" "yeah, here you go" "OOOOH, HERENGRACHT" "ye, hhh". It was pretty close so i walk him there, whilst he was blabbering about. Friendly guy, but not the brightest one. Then again, this was me talking, and I introduced myself as a random hobo passing. When we did get home I found out he was staying at a friend's place, a friend that was quite taken aback when he saw me. "This's a Romanian hobo I brought home". He just stared and went back to bed . I took the couch, and woke up the next day to both of them already awake. The freidn finally found out the full story nd thanked me for getting the guy home...and the guy kept asking me questions like "wait, they have Internet in Romania?"...And yes, he was serious. But meh, free bed:D.
Also, because of my strain, apaprently at night I'd accidentally rub my feet together, which caused pain, which made me let out some quite pain-filled noises. Poor guys.

Oh, and the best part of this was, when we were going in the apartment, the guy stops, gives me a serious look and says "Please don't steal my TV". I assure him that given how I can't even walk straight with a guitar in hand, I obviously can't walk away with a TV, to which he answers "But it's a really nice TV. But pleace, don't steal it, my friend'll get pissed". >.<

[MuchachoNL]

You were in Amsterdam and you didn't even give me a call???????
Oh wait... you didn't know me back then... nor do you have my number.... well, ok... scratch that remark

I got a cute story about my dad once running into a shop burglar... the burglar thought my dad was blocking is way so in a panic attack he stabbed my dad in the arm.
Here's what really happened: My dad saw the burglar running, and stepped to his left to let him pass.
At the same time the burglar stepped to his right, so they faced eachother again.
A second later they both decide to step the other way, facing eachother yet again.
After two more times the burglar got pissed and just stabbed my dad out of the way... poor bastard.

As for a few of my own anecdotes...
In highschool I had this phase where I would jump up and down the curbs with my ATB (all terrain bike). I think I was 15 or so.
So I had this huge crush on a girl in my class, and in our highschool system only graduation classes are split up per subject, so I've known this girl for three years since we saw eachother every day.
She walks towards the bus-stop with a few of her lady friends, and meanwhile I'm slowly riding my bicycle along side them, chatting up, and of course: Showing off.
So me jumping up and down the curb with my bicycle... (You'll probably see where this is going) until I slip off the curb with my front wheel and fall flat on my face.
The girls stop walking and chatting... look at me as if they were to burst into laughter but they see I'm pretty hurt.
The girl I had a crush for kneeled down next to me and asked if I was ok, and in a painful voice I said the first thing that came to my mind: "Yeah, I just fell for you".
The girl blushed, the others laughed their cute little asses off and walked off.
She helped me up and kissed me.
We dated for a few weeks, seeing eachother every other day, but eventually she went for the popular guy in school.

And more recently (last August) I visited a colleague in Amsterdam who's in a weelchair since he was 16, and he wanted me to come around since I'm a lot closer and friendlier to him than any other colleague.
He took me down-town and he wanted me to show Amsterdam.
We drank a few beers, went from one café to the other, chatted up to some very cute girls, just having fun on a guy's night out.
Now, inevitably we wound up in the Red Light District.
Some girls were, in my taste, not even worth a penny... others were too gorgeous for a degenerative job like that (window prostitution).
While I'm pushing his weelchair I'm looking at some really gorgeous girls (and yes, this is a guy thing) and I'm thinking to myself "What would they charge for a blow-job?"
I've always told myself I'd never have sex with a prostitute, just because of the fact that I don't intend to pay for the milk if I can get the cow for free. (Ladies, don't take the cow comparison literally, please... you're not cows )
But with these gorgeous women I wouldn't mind going in for a BJ.
But I couldn't do it, because I would feel guilty about leaving him on the sidewalk to get a BJ.
Now either my colleague is a mind reader, or I wondered it out loud.
Because he turned around and said, I know a street where they charge only 20 euro's. (25 USD)
And he directs me to that street, a side street from the main street.
First few windows were empty.
We walked a few feet away from the windows, close enough to give a knock when stretching out, and the first occupied window I looked into I saw two massive boobs...at eye-hight.
First thought: DiDi???
I looked down, and I saw two somewhat muscular legs...
I looked further up and saw a HUGE Adam's apple...
My colleague waved at "her" and smiled, and I just pushed him away as fast as I could.
He asked me downright upset: "What the bloody hell are you doing?"
My response:"Have you ever been in there?"
He smirked:"Of course, they do a pretty good job at it as well"
And I could only stare at him blankly for a few seconds, and when I realised he was dead serious I asked: "Julian, you know that's a guy, right?"
Now it was his turn to look blankly at me, looks to the left deeply into thoughts muttering "what", looks back at me, back to the left "how"... I could almost hear his brains crash.
And after a few moments he asked:"Really???? How can you tell?"
I replied:"Look at the throats: a lump means it's a guy... they don't call it an Adam's apple for nothing you know!"
He wheeled back to the "lady", took a good look and just went "Heh!", shrugs and says:"Well, best blowjob a guy ever gave me!" and he wheels off, leaving me absolutely flabbergasted.

[GothPoet]

More college stories...

One of my friends in college was having trouble with his car. It conked out and wouldn't run. So we checked some things for him.

(When I say we, I mean one of my other friends checked it, and I kibitzed.)

Come to find out his transmission had absolutely no fluid left in it. This thing was cleaner than when it comes off the assembly line where the parts are made. He seemed quite surprised that you actually have to check these things from time to time.

[Dirty n Evil]

Okay, last Friday I had a day off and spent it with my mother. Her birthday was coming up, and it was my last day off before then, so we had arranged to spend the day together as an early birthday celebration. We have a tradition between the two of us going out to eat at different places, because we're both 'foodies' and enjoy being experimental when it comes to cuisine - and I had suggested a place I've been before and adore, Cajun Cafe on the Bayou. However, it's a long drive from Tampa to Seminole, so I can't get there as often as I like. I prepared for the day by wearing a t-shirt my mother had gotten me two years prior that I thought she would get a kick out of. It's a bright red shirt with white writing that says, "Be Naughty - Save Santa A Trip".

So, we drive the 45 minute trip across Tampa Bay into Seminole County, where the Cajun Cafe was located. But as we pull in, I see that they've slightly changed their hours since we last visited. They're closed between 2pm and 5pm... and it was 3:30pm as we pull in. Well, we've now got an hour and a half to kill off, and we're thinking what we can do. My mom suggests that there is this place we've heard about called The Amish Country Store. Neither of us has been there, but we know it's a store in the neighboring county to Seminole and they serve my most cherished of drinks that I can't otherwise find in Florida... Pennsylvania Dutch Birch Beer. You don't even understand, I'm addicted to this stuff. I've been jonesing for a fix since I moved away from Philadelphia. So, without even knowing the address, we just head off towards Largo in search of this elusive store.

Somehow, we managed to find it despite ourselves... but by then, it's 5pm and the owner is pulling the chain across the access sidewalk into the store. My mother is calling out to them to just let us go in there and buy one item, we already know what we want. She looks between us, and I catch that her eyes are lingering on me for an extra moment before letting us in. We clean them out of 2 liters of the soda, grabbing 8 of them. She laughs, asking us if we had enough. As the owner is ringing us up, she confides that she was actually leaning away from allowing us in because it had been a hard day until she saw my "Santa" t-shirt... and decided that anyone brave enough to wear a shirt like that out in public deserved a bit of leniency.

We get to the Cajun Cafe, and we have a fantastic experience. I recommend we get this fabulous cornbread appetizer with crawfish baked inside of it, as well as this beer I enjoy quite a bit... Orange Blossom Honey Beer. It's sweet, but counteracts the spiciness of the Cajun food well. I had my usual crawfish etoufee over dirty rice, and my mother had their fantastic crabcakes with a side of fried okra. We were both stuffed before we rolled out of there, having had a fun little adventure and a great eating experience.

Now, we split a pitcher of beer between us, but with all the food we ate and how mild the beer was, I wasn't even buzzed by the end of dinner. I have a very high tolerance, but I know better - I'm not going to try to drive while even slightly inebriated. Besides, my Mom eats very slowly, and I was okay to drive. But it was dark by the time we got out of there, and it's a very tricky exit to navigate out of this steep incline onto a busy road. Every other time I've been to this eatery, my pal Zeus has driven, so I forget one very important fact as I gun the car when an opening appears in traffic; there is a cement median between the traffic lanes here. Fortunately we drive over the median without bottoming-out the car, but it's so unexpected we can't help but laugh. It was a good day, and we had a lot of fun.

[GothPoet]

I was reading some old posts, and found some about people's experience taking driving tests.

So, I figured I'd share mine. So went to the State Police office, and the guy giving the written exams was being a dick. Despite that, I passed that part just fine. There were quite a few people there, so one of the officers asked me to go set up the markers for the parallel parking. No problem. So I get back, and I think I was probably the first one to take the driving portion of the test. I say this because I failed on... wait for it... the parallel parking. Turns out I had placed the markers too close together. Way too close. And of course, they told me afterward, but I still had to wait until the next time they offered the test to try again.

[Iceman]

Erm... what is an anecdote? My dictionary is 400km away...

[Azrael]

A usually short narrative of an interesting, amusing, or biographical incident.

[Java]

Here's an example Iceman:

So, today I'm in my parents' kitchen, helping mom set up the rice cooker while she gets dinner going. In the next room my father is on the phone, waiting for customer service to get him (he's on hold) on one of the home phones. Suddenly I hear a "beep" followed by loud swearing by dad.

Mom: What happened?

Me: Oh, Dad just accidentally turned the phone off while he was on hold.

Dad: THAT'S NOT WHAT HAPPENED!

Me: Oh, sorry. What happened then?

Dad: I ACCIDENTALLY HIT SOME BUTTON ON THIS PHONE AND IT DISCONNECTED ME! *swears again*

Me: That's still called "turning it off", Dad....

[Asaryu]

Erm... what is an anecdote? My dictionary is 400km away...

Oh gosh.

For serious?

http://www.dictionary.com

[yiraheerai]

Embarassing for me, entertainment for all else.

A friend of mine on twitter posts: Anyone checked on [another friend] ? Make sure she's okay, after her ovaries exploded?

Me: WHAT? Wait, text me with who has that name. I don't follow that twitter account and there's two people who could have that.

Her: Find out yourself.

Me: Did. Awaiting okay on following her. I'm worried now

Her: Psh, no reason to worry. I seriously doubt she's conscious, after all the blood loss.

My mind does something akin to a keyboard mash with that sort of overload. I hopped on a messenger:

Me 4:46 pm
THAT'S MEAN DD:


Her 4:46 pm
What?
What, exactly, is mean?


Me 4:46 pm
Blood loss. D: Her ovaries actually burst like.. they had to do surgery on her or or?

Her 4:47 pm
jfc
Uchiha Shisui

Me 4:47 pm
*HEARTATTACK* I get it now.. jeeze... just...

Her 4:47 pm
Uchiha Shisui, woman

Her 4:47 pm
LAUGHING SO HARD

Oh, she meant FIGURATIVELY as in bursting in fangasm.

A little later, back on twitter, the person in question reads over our conversation: hahahahahahaha oh god cryssie i love you.

Note to self: NEVER take an ovary explosion as literal.

[Iceman]

I saw ovary explosion, but read ovulation....

[yiraheerai]

My dad is convinced this is fake. It's making its way around Facebook, so it very well might be. Taken from a (sort of) aunt's status:

Subject: GRANDCHILDREN

I was eating lunch on the 20th of February with my 10-year-old

Granddaughter and I asked her, "What day is tomorrow?"

She said "It's President's Day!"
She is a smart kid.

I asked "What does President's Day mean?" I was waiting for something
about Washington or Lincoln ... etc.

She replied, "President's Day is when President Obama steps out of the
White House, and if he sees his shadow we have one more year of
unemployment."

You know, it hurts when hot coffee spurts out your nose.

[Otaku201]

Ouch, I've had coke go out my nose and that burned like hell, I can't imagine hot coffee.