My life is like a sitcom. My husband and I just say and do things that would be classic sitcom (but funny and with weed). I just want to know who else's life is a hilarous adventure.
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My life is like a sitcom. My husband and I just say and do things that would be classic sitcom (but funny and with weed). I just want to know who else's life is a hilarous adventure.
Sign my life up for the fall tv schedule. It would be a sitcom and a drama and a crime show and made for tv movie all in one. It would have to be on cable because it wouldn't get past the censors for network tv. Due to a graphic nature, viewer discression is advised. Lots of frontal nudity!
My woman says I should write a book about my life. It wouldn't be a sitcom, as there are plenty of sad and hard times, but there are also plenty of excruciatingly funny good times too. I told her *she* should write the book, and split the profits with me. Heh.
People tend to find themselves funny, esp. when weed's involved. My wife thinks she's funny, when really she's anything but. The few times she makes me laugh are when she's not trying. You could be outrageously funny for all I know. Any examples?
Free post.
One of my friends I've known for about 11 years is probably the funniest person I've ever met. However, when all of our friends are chillin together he can be funny as fuck. This one night I couldn't stop laughing, we would watch this guy after toking out and realize he should have his own random show. Genius.
Sure, here's a couple of funny events in my life. I sucked them out of other posts I've made.
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#1:
Okay, here's a humiliating moment. In fact, I find it hard to believe this one can be topped.
When I was in the Army and living in the barracks, I got the munchies. Unfortunately, the mess hall was closed, but I did have a half pound bag of sunflower seeds, the kind still in the shell. Well, I got lazy, and decided it was too much effort to take the shells off for those tiny little seeds, and the munchies were hitting me really badly, so I just started gobbling the seeds whole.
About 6 or 8 hours later, my stomach felt kinda weird, a little crampy, and I suddenly needed to take a crap, so I went to the bathroom and had a seat on the toilet. The problem was, the splinters from the sunflower seeds had congealed into this gigantic ball of splintery shit, and this ball was simply too big in diameter to come out of my asshole.
I grunted and groaned, but no matter how hard I tried, that huge splintery ball of shit would not come out, and with every clench of my butt muscles, splinters were being driven into the inside of my ass. It was so excruciatingly painful that I was crying and screaming, and my roommate happened to hear me and came to see what was wrong.
When I explained my predicament to my roomie, he couldn't stop laughing. He asked if there was anything he could do, get a doctor, anything? I said, no, I don't need a doctor, I need a fuckin' spoon. He started to ask why I needed a spoon of all things, then he realized what I intended to do with it, and that REALLY made him laugh. By that point, everyone in the barracks knew what was going on (in part because my screams woke up pretty much everyone), and everyone was laughing their asses off.
My roomie returned shortly and slipped me the spoon underneath the stall door. And I jammed that spoon up my ass and broke that big ass ball of splintery shit up into smaller pieces. It was pretty gross! But whatcha gonna do? I figured I'd rather do it myself than have some doctor digging around my ass doing pretty much the same thing I was doing.
After that experience, my nickname around the barracks was 'Spoon'. ;)
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#2:
I don't have a good joke, but I will tell you the story of how 2 grams of hash cost the U.S. government one million dollars.
I was in the Army, stationed in Turkey. I worked 24 hours on, 72 hours off with an Army chick. (Kick ass, eh? That's almost two 3-day weekends every week!) Well, I decided after watching Midnight Express one night (banned in Turkey) that I wanted to try some kickass Turkish hash, so I talked to a Turk friend of mine about it.
Getting a couple of grams of hash was waaaaay harder than I thought it would be, I guess because they like throw you in prison forever if you get caught with it. We drove around a lot, switched cars, finally ended up meeting a guy in a tea house who slipped me the hash. Looked good, smelled good, wasn't expensive (because the dollar was mighty compared to the Turkish lira).
So, the next time my shift is up, I bring the hash and me and the Army chick smoke it. And it is goddamn POTENT, we're just blazed off our asses. Our job was working at a nuke-proof facility way out in the middle of nowhere, keeping an array of (brand new) Racal-Vadic 50,000 watt HF transmitters going. Each shift, we'd clean the dust out of a transmitter, preventive maintenance stuff.
Well, we open up the front plate of transmitter #10, and I tell the girl I'm going to shut the power down to it so we can do our work. Well, she spaces out right at that moment and taps the bottom of the giant tube inside the case with a grounding rod. There is an enormous brilliant blinding flash of light which blinds us both, and we smell molten metal and plastic.
I tell the chick, if I can't see in 30 minutes I'm going to kill her, and they'll find my blind ass laying next to her corpse when the next shift arrives in the morning. But our vision slowly returns, and in 10 mins we're okay. The transmitter, brand new, cost $1 million. And it is not in good shape at this point. In fact, it looks kinda like someone took a flamethrower to its innards, melted shit everywhere. It's completely destroyed.
Obviously, we're scared as hell at this point, not knowing what could happen to us. On the plus side, the hash is all gone. I tell her to let me handle it when the next shift arrives, and we spend an uneasy night waiting for our shift to end. The next shift arrives, which includes my boss, and I tell my him, "Hey, transmitter 10 just went down, not sure what the deal is. Anyway, we gotta catch the bus back to Izmir, so good luck with that!" And we brazenly walk by, get on the bus, and get the hell out of there.
By the time it's time for our next shift, four days have passed, and they ask us a few questions, and we stick to our story: we don't know what happened, transmitter just went down right before our shift ended. They couldn't prove we did it, so that was that.
The lesson: don't work on powerful electrical equipment when stoned off your ass on hash!
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There's a couple; there are so many more though. I tried to find the one about my attempt to join the Army (I was very very underweight), because that involved not shitting for a week and attempting to slide a 10-pound bolt up my butt to increase my weight. But I guess I never posted that one on this site, or at least I couldn't find it.
Or the story of my wedding in Turkey, where I paid the girl's family to say no, so I wouldn't have to marry her. Or the time my bodyguard beat my face against a balcony railing because he told me he was tough and I could hit him anywhere (so I snapped an elbow into his throat and down he went). Or the time I handed a perfect stranger 2 pounds of pot and told him to stash it because the MPs were searching our site. Or the time me and a friend got busted at an interdiction, for pot, while tripping on acid, and I couldn't for the life of me figure out the Tetris-like puzzle of fitting all our luggage back into the trunk when the cops were done with it. Or the day I discovered a form of invisibility. Or the day I taught Ohm's Law to a class of 25 while hallucinating on Orange Sunshine. Or the time I handed a customs inspector at the airport in Puerto Rico a pound of pot (sealed in an MRE bag) and got away with it.
My life's been pretty bizarre!