(I’m in Boy Scouts, and we go on a campout every month. We have a great patrol, except for one kid who’s an idiot, but we have to let him do some stuff, or he gets mad and we get in trouble. We get up and hook the stove to the propane tank and tell him to check for anything that may leak. He glances at it for a moment and says it’s good. He’s been doing okay this time, so we believe him. I always light the stove. I light the stove and a fireball erupts, and the propane tank bursts into flames.)

Me: “HOLY S***! EVERYONE BACK!”

Idiot: “I got it!”

(He starts filling his tiny cup with water slowly and throwing it on the GAS FIRE.)

All Of Us: “YOU IDIOT, GET AWAY FROM THAT!”

(Soon, a Scoutmaster rushed over, shoved it into the dirt, and kicked mud on it, putting it out. Lesson learned: ALWAYS DOUBLE CHECK, or explode. Your choice.)

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(I’m discussing sign language with a long-time friend. He’s pretty fluent, but I only know a few basic signs. He signs something to see if I can figure out what it means.)

Me: “Yeah, I only know really basic stuff like ‘sorry.'”

(I sign ‘sorry,’ but end up making the sign way too big.)

Friend: “I don’t think you need to be THAT sorry.”

(Before class I’m catching up with a friend who’s known for his wild partying. Note that he’s quite a tall, hairy guy.)

Me: “I saw those pictures of you on Facebook in a Tarzan costume. Rocking party?”

Friend: “Oh, yeah, funny story behind that actually. It was my mate’s 21st and we resolved to not leave until we drank every drop of alcohol. The last thing I remember is pouring everything into a big jug. I woke up at my friend’s house the next day and realised I was late for a group assignment meeting, so I got in my car and drove straight to the university library.”

Me: “Did you have any clothes?”

Friend: “Nope, I was in the library on a Sunday morning hungover in a thigh-length Tarzan costume.”

(My roommate asks for some cider for when he finishes work. I buy four bottles and pop them in the fridge, and he is grateful when he gets home. He has three bottles while I have none due to being ill. Two days later, there is one bottle left so I grab it for myself, but pop into his room to offer some.)

Me: “Hey, you want a swig of the last bottle before I have it?'”

Roommate: “Aw, man, you’re gonna have the last bottle? I wanted it.”

Me: “Sorry, dude, but this is the first one I’ve had, and to be fair I did buy them.”

Roommate: “Yeah, but I planned to drink it later.”

Me: “Are you seriously complaining? I paid for them and you had all the other ones.”

Roommate: “Meh, that’s fine. I’ll just remember next time when I buy some booze to just get it for myself and not share.”

Me: “…”

(This was the third time in a fortnight that I’d bought a crate of cider and let him have the majority of it. Safe to say it was also the last.)

(My roommate and I are attending a holiday party thrown by some friends of ours who live in a small apartment with only one bathroom. There are around ten of us, but so far, only having one bathroom has not been an issue. Near the end of the party, my roommate goes in to use the bathroom. I also need to go, but figure I can wait for a few minutes. Ten minutes roll by, and I wonder if she isn’t feeling well.)

Friend: “Where is [Roommate]? I haven’t seen her in a while.”

Me: “In the bathroom. Hope she’s okay. I have to go, too.”

(Finally, after 20 minutes, she emerges excitedly, phone in hand.)

Roommate: “I leveled up!”