An Appropriate Time For Giving Inappropriately

, , , , | Related | December 18, 2012

(I overhear a conversation between my family. My sister is quite good at knitting, and Dad asks her to make him a pair of underwear for Christmas.)

Sister: “Why would I want to make you underwear? Then it would be touching your man junk and I don’t want my handiwork touching your man junk!”

Dad: “If it weren’t for my man junk, you wouldn’t exist. You’d be floating aimlessly in the universe with nowhere to land!”


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More Than A Whinge About The Syringe

, , , , | Related | December 3, 2012

(We are the same twins from this story. We are about four years old, and our mum has taken us to the doctors.)

Me: “It’s not needles is it, Mum?”

Mum: “No, it’s not needles.”

Brother: “Are you sure, Mum? Are you sure it’s not needles?”

Mum: “Don’t worry; it’s definitely not needles.”

(We get to the doctors and I go in first with my mum. My brother stays in the waiting room playing with a few toys. I am sat on the chair and the doctor removes a large, shiny syringe from a drawer. Without a moment’s hesitation, I bolt towards the door. I throw it open and make it to the waiting room before my mum manages to grab me. Knowing I am surely doomed, I see my pale-faced brother staring at me as I am dragged back into the doctor’s office.)

Me: *shouting* “Run! It’s NEEDLES!

(My brother was halfway home before my mum was able to catch up to him!)

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Pointlessly Perverse Parlance

, , , , , , | Romantic | September 17, 2012

(My boyfriend and I are at his brother’s 21st birthday party, and my boyfriend is wearing his brother’s 21st tiara.)

Boyfriend: “I’m a pretty princess.”

Me: “You’re a pretty, purple princess.”

Me: “Actually, you’re a pretty, pink, and purple princess.”

Boyfriend: “A perfect, pretty, pink, and purple princess.”

Me: “A pedantic, perfect, pretty, pink, and purple princess.”

Boyfriend: “A painfully pedantic, perfect, pretty, pink, and purple princess.”

Me: “A poignant, painfully pedantic, perfect, pretty, pink, and purple princess.”

Boyfriend: “So, a purposely poignant, painfully pedantic, perfect, pretty, pink, and purple princess.”


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Taking Charge Of The Matter

, , , , , , | Related | March 29, 2012

(My twin brother and I are about 15 at the time. I have just placed some AA batteries into a charger and gone to bed. My brother and I are both woken up in the middle of the night by a loud fizzle and pop.)

Brother: “What was that?”

Me: “Just the radiator… Go back to sleep.”

Brother: “I don’t think that was the radiator.”

(He turns on the light and sees that the batteries in the charger are fizzling, and a thick fluid is pouring out of them and on to the floor.)

Brother: “Oh, my God, it’s the batteries! Wait, did you put single-use batteries into a charger?”

Me: “Umm…”

Brother: “You idiot.”

Me: “I’ll clean it up.”

(I get up and go to pick up the batteries before any more fluid leaks on to the floor.)

Brother: “Wait, you can’t just pick them up! That stuff is toxic!”

Me: “Well, what should I use?!”

Brother: “I’ll go get some rubber gloves. And some aluminium foil.”

Me: “Foil?”

Brother: “Yeah, I read somewhere that you have to dispose of the batteries in foil before throwing them away.”

Me: “Are you sure?”

Brother: “Just do it!”

(My brother and I both try to dispose of the leaking un-chargeable batteries from the battery charger. Our mother then walks into the room to find out what all the noise is about in the middle of the night. She walks in to find us both in our underwear, wearing rubber gloves, with aluminium foil in our hands. There is a long silence where we all just stare at each other.)

Mum: “Are you two on drugs?”

Us: “No, mum.”

Mum: “Am I on drugs?”

Us: “No, mum.”

Mum: “Good, then I don’t want to know. I’m going back to bed.”

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Suddenly Seeing Susan

, , , | Related | March 7, 2012

(My grandma, aunt, and I are sat in the living room after Christmas lunch. My grandma’s napping, and my aunt and I are reading books we received as Christmas presents. I look up as my mum walks in with a slightly mischievous smile on her face. I watch as she sits down next to her sister, back straight, hands on her lap, and starts staring at her. My aunt looks up at her, then back to her book, but her concentration has obviously been broken.)

Aunt: “Susan.”

Mum: *brightly* “Yes?”

Aunt: “You know what.”

(My aunt shuffles slightly further down the sofa. My mum shuffles along with her and keeps staring.)

Aunt: “Sue, stop it.”

Mum: “I’m just sitting here.”

Aunt: “Muuum!”

(My grandma opens her eyes.)

Grandma: “Yes, dear?”

Aunt: “She’s doing it again!”

Grandma: *sighs* “Didn’t you outgrow that, Susan?”

(This is, and has been, my Mum’s favourite way of annoying her sister since she was eight. She’s 52 now.)


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