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Badmovies.org Forum  |  Other Topics  |  Off Topic Discussion  |  Confessional---Anything To Get Off Your Chest? « previous next »
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Author Topic: Confessional---Anything To Get Off Your Chest?  (Read 4826 times)
Jordan
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« Reply #15 on: April 10, 2010, 01:33:13 AM »

I peed on the doorhandles of someone's car once... in the winter... it was cold... and little yellow icicles resulted!
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« Reply #16 on: April 10, 2010, 01:45:01 AM »

At a party we once turned off the lights to see what will happen in total darkness. I was crawling and touching my way through the room until I felt somebody laying on the floor on his back. I squatted and made sure this persons face was right underneath my ass and yeah, I cut the cheese. The person was totally upset started yelling, coughing and cursing. I crawled away as fast as possible before the lights got switched on again, and acted in "shock" as how somebody could fart somebody in the face!
I never told anybody that I was the farter. Funny enough I was never a suspect either  TeddyR
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« Reply #17 on: April 10, 2010, 07:06:07 AM »

By the by Saucerman.... DON'T EVER GIVE HER A SECOND CHANCE! Instead, go get yourself a nice little Fright Rags-wearing goth chick who loves horror and cult films!  TeddyR

Oh, I wouldn't.  She threw me away based on the advice of her "big sister" within the brainwashing sorority cult she'd joined, said "big sister" hating me for disagreeing with her (granted, disagreeing with her in a rather belligerent fashion while drunk off my ass) on what NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD "really meant."

Plus there's the distance factor, the fact that I didn't get along with her family, hold her in complete and total disdain for joining this sorority (her personality completely changing within hours of pledging) and the fact that she's got a beard. 

Weirdly enough, she (the ex) just commented on my review of TWILIGHT, a film she screened for me.  
« Last Edit: April 10, 2010, 07:09:35 AM by Saucerman » Logged

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« Reply #18 on: April 10, 2010, 08:49:50 AM »

At a party we once turned off the lights to see what will happen in total darkness. I was crawling and touching my way through the room until I felt somebody laying on the floor on his back. I squatted and made sure this persons face was right underneath my ass and yeah, I cut the cheese. The person was totally upset started yelling, coughing and cursing. I crawled away as fast as possible before the lights got switched on again, and acted in "shock" as how somebody could fart somebody in the face!
I never told anybody that I was the farter. Funny enough I was never a suspect either  TeddyR

Forgiven because that's hilarious haha  BounceGiggle
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HappyGilmore
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« Reply #19 on: April 10, 2010, 08:52:57 AM »

There's entirely way too much to get off my chest.  I wouldn't even know where to begin. Buggedout
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« Reply #20 on: April 10, 2010, 03:31:22 PM »

After many years of chuckling at the memory, I actually do finally feel pretty bad about this one....

In the summer of 1993 I was playing in a tennis tournament and the girl I was about to go up against in a semi-final match, a slightly older girl who had a reputation for being a mouthy drama queen as well a a dirty player, said something EXTREMELY impolite to me as we walked on court together, so I deliberately aimed my first serve right at her, and to my surprise actually hit her HARD on the forehead. It was so wrong of me to find satisfaction in watching her stagger around, bent double, holding her holding her little blond head in her hands, deer-in-headlights look in her eyes...
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« Reply #21 on: April 10, 2010, 10:39:29 PM »

You are forgiven, my child.


OK - this week a very nice friend of mine, a salt of the earth fellow, called me on his way home from the river because he had found the best point of his lifetime - a KILLER  4  1/8" Scottsbluff type spearpoint.  He came by my school to show it to me, while I was waiting for open house to start.  Of course, I congratulated him and told him what a great point it was and how happy I was for him.

But I secretly wanted to knock him over the head and hide it and see if he would forget finding it when he woke up . . . .
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« Reply #22 on: April 12, 2010, 08:03:51 AM »

I'm actually a pretty nice guy with a gigantic conscious at times.   Some days I do hate having such a big conscious though.
« Last Edit: April 12, 2010, 08:06:04 AM by The DarkSider » Logged

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« Reply #23 on: April 12, 2010, 08:54:09 AM »

I'm actually a pretty nice guy

I knew it all along.  TeddyR
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« Reply #24 on: April 12, 2010, 08:56:06 AM »

Of course, I congratulated him and told him what a great point it was and how happy I was for him.But I secretly wanted to knock him over the head and hide it and see if he would forget finding it when he woke up . . . .

 BounceGiggle BounceGiggle BounceGiggle BounceGiggle Thumbup

Consider yourself karma'd for that one.  TeddyR
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AndyC
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« Reply #25 on: April 12, 2010, 10:03:41 PM »

OK, here's one that involves breaking a federal law, but it was a long time ago, and I was just barely still a minor. The fall of 1988, there was a federal election in Canada. Being maybe a year too young to vote, not to mention opinionated and full of teenage stupidity, I convinced a friend to go with me to the edge of town at night and steal the election sign of a particular candidate - one of the big hardboard signs. We then scribbled a lot of the sort of filthy stuff that teenage boys find funny on it with magic markers. At that point, we didn't know what to do with the thing, so we left it on the front step of the local newspaper, thinking it might get some attention.

The story doesn't end there, however. The following morning, I heard about a part-time job opening at that paper and applied. Seventeen years later, I left my job as editor to move north. Never told anyone.
« Last Edit: April 13, 2010, 09:30:32 AM by AndyC » Logged

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« Reply #26 on: April 12, 2010, 10:47:47 PM »

I peed in a bottle instead of going to the toilet  out of lazyness
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« Reply #27 on: April 13, 2010, 12:33:17 AM »

After the sudden death of a close friend of mine in 2000, I became, over time, good friends with his sister, whom I'd not known well at all before her brother's passing. (In fact for a year she didn't know about my connection to her brother....long story.)

Two years ago my deceased friend's sister had a little boy whom she named after her late brother, same first and middle name, even giving him the same nickname her brother had. She asked if I'd be Godmother to her son and so I said....okay, sure, thanks, what an honor, thank you for thinking so much of me to ask me to do that. (Which was only partly reflective of how I actually felt about it.) But now every bit as much as then, it disturbs me when she calls her son by my deceased friend's name. Sometimes it sends a chill down my spine, not least of which because it reminds me of some odd things that happened shortly after my friend's death.

Now, to put the topper on the cake, this little boy, my godson, shows every indication of looking like a young clone of his uncle, and even though I try hard to feel otherwise, between the name and what sometimes seems like his mom's almost subconscious efforts to make him a surrogate for her dead brother, something in me is feeling increasingly disturbed by it all and I probably have no right to be.

Mea maxima culpa.
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« Reply #28 on: April 13, 2010, 04:49:32 AM »

Trevor: [strikes chest with flat hand, knocks self on backside] I hereby confess that I am proud to be a member of this family. Really. Stale undies and all.  Wink
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Vik
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« Reply #29 on: April 13, 2010, 05:30:08 AM »

I guess I could confess something...
Three years ago when I was 14 I used to go to the local supermarket and steel 4 bars of Toblerone chocolate EACH time I went. I did this for 2 months in a row and I sold the chocolate bars every day at school for 1 euro a bar. It was 1.25 in the store so people always bought it. I must of made over 100 euros with this... until I was at another store, I was still smoking pot at the time and I was semihigh and a little drunk. I put a bunch of magic markers and lighters in my pockets. 2 of my friends, who stole nothing, were with me then. As we walked outside the alarm went off. I ran but my friends just stayed put. The people from the shop stopped them and my friends gave my name (  Hatred ) I drove my bike home and threw the stuff I stole in a river. by the time I got home my parents knew and my life was really messed up then.

I'm a relatively " good boy " now though  Drink
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