The most embarrassing thing thats ever happened to me was playing ring around the rosy in 1st grade and feeling very sick, and when we were “all falling down” and holding hands, i was the only one still standing, and had yaked all over myself! wonderful!

In high school I accidentally said “vagina” instead of “Virginia” during an Oral Presentation in front of the whole class. Only the 20-something teacher laughed.

Hi,

Back when I was thinking of moving to LA to become a famouz m0d3L I came out for a few weeks to do runway shows and test shoots. I was around 16. I did this show in which I had to wear a bikini and heels and walk down a fucking massive runway that I had already done other shows down. However, the chaos of the week allowed for a lapse in my memory of what to do at the end of the runway…was I supposed to turn around and come back (yes, I was), or was I supposed to walk off the stairs that were at the end of the runway for the other shows. Well. I walk down the runway…things are going great, no tripping or whatever. Get to the end of the runway, do the little pose, and then WHAM!! I stepped off the runway onto stairs that were NO LONGER THERE and fell 4-5 feet….Luckily I landed standing up in my heels, but I just ran and hid under some chairs for a long time until the show was over. I got an agent after that.

Hi,

Back when I was thinking of moving to LA to become a famouz m0d3L I came out for a few weeks to do runway shows and test shoots. I was around 16. I did this show in which I had to wear a bikini and heels and walk down a fucking massive runway that I had already done other shows down. However, the chaos of the week allowed for a lapse in my memory of what to do at the end of the runway…was I supposed to turn around and come back (yes, I was), or was I supposed to walk off the stairs that were at the end of the runway for the other shows. Well. I walk down the runway…things are going great, no tripping or whatever. Get to the end of the runway, do the little pose, and then WHAM!! I stepped off the runway onto stairs that were NO LONGER THERE and fell 4-5 feet….Luckily I landed standing up in my heels, but I just ran and hid under some chairs for a long time until the show was over. I got an agent after that.

Hi,

Back when I was thinking of moving to LA to become a famouz m0d3L I came out for a few weeks to do runway shows and test shoots. I was around 16. I did this show in which I had to wear a bikini and heels and walk down a fucking massive runway that I had already done other shows down. However, the chaos of the week allowed for a lapse in my memory of what to do at the end of the runway…was I supposed to turn around and come back (yes, I was), or was I supposed to walk off the stairs that were at the end of the runway for the other shows. Well. I walk down the runway…things are going great, no tripping or whatever. Get to the end of the runway, do the little pose, and then WHAM!! I stepped off the runway onto stairs that were NO LONGER THERE and fell 4-5 feet….Luckily I landed standing up in my heels, but I just ran and hid under some chairs for a long time until the show was over. I got an agent after that.

When I was a freshman in college I went to a costume party and had a bit to drink. I went home went to bed everything was normal. Until I woke up and 2 EMT’s were asking me if I was OK (I was fine at this point) But my roommate freaked out in the middle of the night and called the RA because I peed in the middle of our dorm room floor because I thought it was the bathroom!

When I was in elementary school, I got a new pair of shorts that I thought were super sweet. They were bright blue and had numbers on them, like a sports jersey. Problem was, they were really short shorts, and (being a boy) that was definitely not the style of the moment. The first day I wore them to school, I woke up filled with restless anticipation. I couldn’t wait to sport them at school, it was going to be the coolest. First class that day at school was P.E. For P.E. class we took turns every week leading the class in warm-up stretches. It was my turn that week, so I jumped up and stood in front of the class. Before I could start the first stretch position, a girl in the front, who I had had the HUGEST crush on all year, yelled out for all to hear “Are those your underwear?!” Everyone laughed and laughed. The P.E. teacher laughed. Never wore the shorts again.

I asked a friend out to senior prom with a banana. It gets worse. Two friends and I agreed in togetherness to ask our 3 female friends out in prankster fashion. I went first, before lunch… my date was not happy (but she said yes). My buddies, instead of asking their dates out via elaborate prank, drove to a flower shop during lunch. The two lady friends left LOVED the flowers, and I looked like a total jerk-wad to my date. There is no recovering from a banana bouquet. Well played, boys. Well played.

I wore Uggs to Coachella.

I was staying over at a friend’s house once. Before going to sleep, his mother said she would set the house alarm for the night. I asked what time she was setting the alarm for. She said, no sweetie, it’s a security alarm.

In middle school I was doing exercises in the school pool, I then got out to stand in line to do the next exercise, and a boy pointed at my legs and said “you know you’re bleeding, right?”

And I had started my period without knowing it. Another boy had to escort me to the locker room.
Looking back on it now I laugh.

I don’t have the ambition to take the steps necessary to acquire my own website or pay the bills. Give me one.

…..2nd grade. peed while standing and saying the pledge of allegiance…just couldn’t hold it in.

i dated a second cousin (unbeknownst to me, of course) for two weeks in middle school. my friends and family will never let this go.

Awhile back I was getting a physical at the doctors office. It was myself, the doctor and 2 interns/nurses in the room. As I’m climbing up on the bed/table thing, I rip the loudest fart.. Everyone was completely silent.. The doctor had to turn away to hold in his laugh. I think I was about 13 and completely mortified..

I was on my iphone walking on a sidewalk, and when I got to the end, about to cross the street, and still on my iphone, I get in front of a car, it swerves of to the side, hits another car and they both get totaled Luckily (for me) no one dies, and needless to say I don’t have any kind of insurance. fml.

me, best wishes from berlin.

I split from my girl a while back and started drinking heavily. On one occasion, i was staggering home from the pub and went to what I thought was my bed. When I woke up in the morning I realised I was in the wrong house and in fact slept in some kids bed. The house was empty and as I got up to leave, a naked woman came out from another room & started screaming at me like a rapist. She stood there frozen & screamed “LUKE!!!!!!”… I said but I’m Luke, and I’m so sorry…this house used to be my best mates house but he recently sold it. At that moment, a naked man came running up from the stairs and he says “Luke??? is that you” It turns out that it was my brother inlaws younger bro & his girlfriend that was naked house sitting for her brother who was away. They forgot to lock the door the previous night and I must of thought it was my house which was one block away. HEAVY

When I was about 11, I had to take a shit real bad inside of a convenience store with some friends. I attempted but didn’t make it to the bathroom. As I left, the clerk stopped me, “Excuse me, but is that yours? You’re going to have to clean that up”.

What could I do?

embarrassment is for wussies

Me and my compagnon just started a little graphic design studio in the Netherlands. Sinds our expertise is’nt programming websites this seems the perfect way to host our project for new clients. Some templates look very clean and nice, so this would be the perfect start!

Being trapped naked with my ex-girlfriend (who was also naked) at my parents house in their back garden whilst my mother had just got back from the hospital. It took a good 5 minutes before I plucked up the courage to knock on the back door…

In 10th grade this kid depantsed me during gym, revealing my family jewels to the entire class. Also my other friend depantsed me in front of his mother, and let’s just say my nickname became Peanut for the rest of my high school life. (I was a late bloomer.)

FART in front of everyone on a public transportation. after the awkward silence, i’m trying to breaking the ice by beatboxing (and i’m not the expert one). aaand, it’s not working at all. i quickly set myself free by let myself walking on sidewalks for the next 3 miles. pretty tough for my highschool memories.

After springing an oil leak at the thrift store, my girl friend and I decided to go across the street to get donuts and use the bathroom. We get inside the shop and there is no toilet. Suddenly, knock, knock. who’s there? DIARRHEA. I sprint across the street, well as fast as you can with my butt cheeks clenched tight. And make my way through to the far end of the thrift store. I have to clench my cheeks with all my might because the stall is in use and the man sounds like he is not leaving anytime soon. My sphincter fails under pressure and a little comes out. My butt cheeks warm so I waddle out and into the ladies room. The coast is clear so I quickly sneak my way to the nearest stall and erupt. The time spent in the bathroom is cleaning my self, laughing then being embarrassed and continuing that cycle. I cut off my boxers and toss them in the trash can next to me, leave and find my girl friend and tell her that I’ve crapped myself. She bursts into an uncontrollable laughing fit and speaks of my odor so others can hear. We ride home. I ride in shame, as i can smell my self sometimes.

https://picasaweb.google.com/108836456161135211461/20111224#5803337422465623842

in grade school we had this native american pow-wow day where all the kids dressed in their little native american garb. my outfit was traditional native american stuff: headdress, beads, shirt, and these pants with embroidered square flaps in the back and front. well anyway, it was the end of the day, i was filled with cornbread and stuffing when i got that feeling. oh no.. i excused myself to the bathroom and after fighting a really rotten stomach i stood up to wipe when… slllooop drip drip drip!!…. the back flap to my pants was soaking in the toilet the whole time. pickled in dirty cornbread water. i did my best to dry it off and flipped it inside of my cotton pants returning to class. i was so soaked, it was very obvious. i probably smelt too.

36 hours of pure self destruction

Prologue:

A warm, hugely generous woman (Jenny) I had worked for for a while asked me this summer to babysit her house cat while she and her son traveled to China for four weeks to visit family. I, of course, agreed, and during the month of May made good friends with her cat ‘Busy’.

Skip forward two months:

After her return, Jenny invited me for a traditional Cantonese supper as thanks for having taken care of her cat. For various reasons, I had to re-schedule the meal twice, so by the third invitation my girlfriend and I accepted the date no matter what. So I circled the calendar for the following Sunday afternoon…the Sunday following the wedding of one of my long-time friends.

I gotta say, I love weddings. They’re the best. They’re just one big boozy happy-fest. My friend’s (Robb) wedding was at Brix downtown and the wine was a’flowin. I clearly remember two glasses of champagne and the first bottle of wine, I’m pretty sure about the second bottle, but accounts vary as to the third bottle and some stories about tequila shots. Needless to say, I was on fire that night (I’m a pretty damn happy drunk). Aside from being ‘that guy’, certain highlights include a loud proposal to the bride’s mother and a challenge to husband of a duel with baguettes, I slow danced with the groom, got into an arm-wrestling match with the groom’s grandmother (who I let win of course) and topped the night off by trying (and failing) to climb a stop sign as the out-of-town family members waited for taxis. My poor girlfriend tried to corral me several times, but she’s been with me long enough to treat these situations like a hurricane, just try to make sure no one gets hurt. This might not seem so embarrassing, but here’s the rub, the wedding party was only 13 people.

My girlfriend managed to get us into a taxi and on our way home to Kits. She, being totally sober and being equal parts worried for and upset with me, thought it would be a good idea to try and ‘walk some of it off’. Ten minutes after the cab ride I was trying, very loudly, to climb a sapling outside of my building. Eleven minutes after the cab I was on my back in the grass with an uprooted tree on my chest and a totally pissed off French-Canadian girlfriend swearing at me in french. She was soon joined by my building manager (Marcel) who lived on the ground floor and whom I’d woken up. My girlfriend went from swearing at me to apologizing to him while I was trying to get up with the sapling in my hands to (I think) make a peace offering to Marcel. He wasn’t in a peaceful mood.

Despite my deserving to be punched, Marcel grabbed me and helped my girlfriend get me into my apartment. Several of my neighbors came to their doors to watch as Marcel dragged the guy from Apartment 105 up the stairs wearing a tux covered in dirt. I woke the next morning fully clothed in my bathtub.

I. Wanted. To. Die.

Three bottles of red wine, two glasses of champagne and an unknown number of tequila shots were taking cruel and determined revenge. My eyes stung, my vision was blurred. My tongue felt like a piece of driftwood and my mouth tasted like curdled milk. My entire body ached, especially my hip where I’d fallen from the stop sign. I was hot, sweaty, still wearing my tux which smelled like wine and cigarette smoke and immediately swore a life of sobriety. Then I tried moving. Looking back, I’m pretty sure I was still a little drunk, that at least explains why my bathroom seemed to suddenly implode. My floor became my ceiling and I was retching and convulsing like some horrible B-movie zombie victim. I got sick everywhere. Over the course of the next few hours I didn’t move from my bathroom. My girlfriend (still angry but now concerned) tried to help me, but I was barely lucid let alone capable of human communication. In between bouts of throwing up (which after the first go around consisted mostly of painful dry-heaving) I managed to undress, sit in the shower until my fingers and toes turned to raisins, and drink tiny amounts of water. Things slowly, very slowly, terribly excruciatingly horribly slowly, began to improve.

In all seriousness, I may have had some sort of alcohol poisoning and to this day still regret having blasted past my limits.

After about four or five hours of intermittent heaving and moaning, I managed to finally get dressed. I was moving at a snail’s pace. Anything faster than a geriatric shuffle and I’d get dizzy and have to lie down immediately or be thrown into more dry heaving. But, things were slowly improving. Then my phone buzzed with a text.

Jenny: “see you soon, hope you’re hungry!!!”

Oh. God. I forgot. I was due at Jenny’s down the street in 30 minutes.

“You’re going” said my girlfriend.

“Please,” I whimpered back, “come with me. I can’t do this alone.”

She agreed (because she’s a saint and I don’t deserve her).

I’m pretty proud that I managed to get there on time. I was dressed, I could walk/shuffle, and the air from my apartment near Kits Beach to Jenny’s place near Burrard Bridge did me some good. Jenny and her son (Barry) were happy to see us. The big Caucasian cat-sitter had finally come for supper. Aside from a quick “you look tired”, I was ushered into her home and given a seat at the diner table.

“You want a beer?” asked Jenny.

“No thank you” I croaked, “just water. Please, only water.”

We made small talk about China (mostly Jenny) while Barry talked about his classes at SFU. My girlfriend carried 90% of the conversation. I nodded, sipped my water, ignored my pounding temples and told myself that I was doing fine. I could get through this. Then dinner began.

“Traditional Cantonese food” said Jenny happily as she set the table.

Rice. Chicken wings. Not so exotic.
Beef lung. Gooey duck. Salted duck egg. A bit of surprise.

I sincerely apologize to any Cantonese cuisine lovers. I have absolutely nothing against great Chinese cooking. But I know who I am, and that is a very simple Canadian raised by a mother whose culinary talents were based on a solid foundation of Kraft Dinner and Hamburger Helper. While I have since ventured into awesome Asian restaurants (thanks to my girlfriend), my appetite remains pretty leery of any dish of which I can’t immediately associate with whatever animal or plant it originally came from.

That said, the minute I saw what was in front of me and smelt the aromas of steaming beef lung and pickled half raw duck egg, I felt that tell-tale sensation of a ball in my throat and my abdominals contracting. I snatched my water and started drinking while shoveling my plate full of rice.

I took a lot of rice.

Again, thank God for my girlfriend. She literally saved my life during supper. I picked here and there, but my meal consisted of two parts rice, three parts water, one half of a chicken wing and a small nibble of gooey duck.

By some miracle I made it through supper and had started breathing easy. I’d made it. Or at least I’d thought so. I’d forgotten about dessert.

In hindsight, snow fungus soup really is quite nice. (http://bit.ly/WNsrkA) It’s a simple dish that really doesn’t have that strong a taste. It’s the texture that surprises you. Creamy to the point of being a little slimy, it’s a good way to ease the stomach after a heavy meal. That particular moment however, as I tepidly tasted the fungus, it had the exact same constitution of the stomach fluids I’d been expunging since the moment I’d woken that morning in my bathtub.

One spoonful. Game over.

Ball in throat. Abdominals contracting. Cheeks exploding. I slapped my hands around my mouth, jumped from the table and ran to the wherever I thought (prayed) the bathroom would be. With fungus and water rushing up my esophagus I burst into Jenny’s bathroom and just aimed at whatever looked like porcelain. It ended up being the sink.

Now, I’m pretty loud when I’m sick, and when I’m sick, I’m sick for a long time. Later my girlfriend told me about what the scene looked like. She, sitting at the table with her head in her hands, mortified. Jenny, apologizing profusely, repeatedly asking if the food had been too spicy. Barry, openly laughing, asking if I was going to finish my soup. All to the sound of a 6’1, 220 lbs Caucasian man being violently sick.

After, rubbing my eyes and looking up at myself in the bathroom mirror, not totally believing what I had just done, I glanced down at the horror of what used to be Jenny’s sink. (Brace yourself here). Everything I’d managed to hold down over the past seven hours was in that bowl. It was the biological embodiment of ‘why not to binge on red wine.’ I turned on the faucet, hoping to dilute the mess, but to no avail. This was a serious log jam. I began to panic. I had to fix this. I couldn’t let Jenny see this nightmare. So I did what I had to do. I cupped my hands and got down to business. After about a dozen transports from sink to toilet I had the sink empty. I went back to the faucet, and to my terror the water started to rise. The drain was completely and thoroughly clogged. Panicking even more, I rinsed my hands and riffled through a cupboard and found a tooth brush. Violently jamming the brush down the drain, I fought with whatever was down there, but nothing worked. Then there was a knock at the door.

My girlfriend, “Stefan, just come out”

Emerging, sheepishly, from the scene of my crime, I opened the door, shut it behind me, looked at Jenny, and melted. The poor woman visibly upset. Not because I had hardly eaten her meal, or because I had destroyed her bathroom sink, but because she thought that she had poisoned me. I only had one option remaining at that point.

“Jenny, I’m so sorry, I may have ruined your sink. I will pay for a plumber to come right away. And I owe you a toothbrush.”

I went on to come completely clean. To her credit, Jenny was a great sport and she still laughs about it. I did pay for the emergency plumber (who fixed the sink in five minutes) and I also paid for a new tree for Marcel. Robb and his family still laugh about my wedding performance, but Brix did leave a message with the wedding party that they received several complaints from surrounding condo dwellers about the louder parts of my night.

My girlfriend felt that I’d paid enough for my sins by the ordeal at Jenny’s, and harbored no grudge against me, but she still points to the new sapling outside my building as a reminder every time I say I’m going out for a few beers with some friends.

Lastly, I have eaten plenty of Cantonese food since, and loved it.

But I still haven’t drank any red wine.

When I was in grade 11 I had a job interview at a new place in town. I got excited because it was a good paying job and I was in charge of other employees. All was good until I told my father where I was working and what I was doing and he started to laugh. At the time I didn’t understand why he was laughing.

To this day when ever I tell someone what I’ve done for past jobs and this one comes up I always get laughed at, but now I get it.

In grade 11 I took a job at a Fudge Factory (no jokes, it was called The Fudgery) and on Wednesdays I packed fudge and shipped it out.

To this day I’m referred to as a Fudgepacker and it isn’t in the derogatory sense, I actually was a true fudgepacker.

I was super flu sick once, but had a 40% off coupon to a retail store. needed some shorts, didn’t want it to expire, so I headed out to try on clothes.

In the dressing room I yakked into a different shopping bag, casually carried it out, brought shorts to the register, and paid for them in the midst of a growing horrified crowd of customers bugging out about a mysterious nasty smell.

on the way out a lady asked why my bag was dripping, so I quickly skipped out of there leaving a trail of nasty slime.

now I work at the corporate headquarters of that store, so I think I was forgiven.

We were making paper cranes in church youth group, and apparently I fudged a step somewhere, turning what should’ve been an innocuous crane tail feather into a dagger-penis. My youth group leader, who was a generally awful person, could not shut up about it, parading me around to all of the nearby adults with my mangled, lewd paper crane and then laughing at me for getting embarrassed and crying. Heinous woman.

I always mistakenly text my mom instead of my gf/bf. It feels like FML all the time.

One time i got pants in front of my entire high school when I was giving a speech on stage :[

>>my most embarrassing thing>>

I was 16 and unruly, wearing baggy bright orange cargo pants, skipping school hanging out at the local coffee shop in my small hometown of Juneau, Alaska. I had just started to date a guy who was a professional snowboarder and I was meant to meet up with him at our local skate shop so he could introduce me to his reps and his snowboard team. Before I was meant to go there I decided that I wanted to drink a bunch of espresso. As soon as I was finishing my coffee, my girlfriend drove up to take me to the skate shop.

Just to paint a picture — Juneau has a small, quaint downtown strip, that is a one way street, snaking through it at 20mph. The door handle on the passenger side of her car was broken and I was about to be late to meet my boyfriend at the time. I decided that the best, most logical idea was to just sit on the hood of the car, to get a to the other end of downtown. I sat IN FRONT of my girlfriends driver’s side of the windshield and she couldn’t see very well. She decides to speed up as she thinks it’s hilarious that I’m going ahead with this dangerous idea. So there I am, sitting on the hood of the car, going 35mph on a one lane, small street with pedestrians and tourists everywhere.

Since I am blocking my girlfriends view, she doesn’t see the car that had pulled out from the alley in front of her. The alley was connected to the snowboard shop that my boyfriend and crew were meeting. I was still on the hood of the car, going way too fast when my friend rear ended the car in front of me and I went flying, 8 feet in the air, right in front of my boyfriend and his professional snowboard team. I hit the pavement of Main St. rolling and tumbling in front of them, like such a crazy spectacle.

We scared the living daylights out of the elderly man that we rear ended, my “cool” cargo pants were all torn up, and I totally bit the dust in front of all these people I was trying to impress. My vision of my first entrance being all cool and “extreme” was totally sabotaged when we hit the elderly man in front of us. I then had to go up to the shop and introduce myself as they were all screaming and hollering thinking that I was going to get super hurt. Luckily, I wasn’t hurt physically, just a totally embarrassed ego.