What is the dumbest thing you have even done.

Oh boy lets see... lots to chooze from. I'l pick 2. I wont name the "dumbest" thing, cuz I dont think either one of the folowing is more or less dumb then the other. But since the first vas just my mistake, and the second one affected someone other then me, I'd say the second one culd have had more nasty consekvences.

About 2 years ago, at a bareknuckle fighting event I atended in Sankt Peterburg, Russia (underground, private organized, semi-legal competitions lasting 2-3 days, vhere rules are very lax on who and how you can fight, I started vith those after I got out of MMA). I got thru the first and second matchup I drawn that night (theres usualy a box of pieces of paper vith names on it, we write up our names, put them in, and we all draw from it), not much problem vith either, a few bruises and cuts, maked decent purse on both, my 3rd oponent next morning vas a pro-wrestler guy vith about 20 kilos on me (im 84), and realy in love of tackling you down and choking you out vhile pounding on you. Ok, a chalenge, especialy in such a confined space (the ring vas pretty small, about half the size of a boxing ring or a cage, not much space to play distance and keep him mid-range vhere I like to keep them), but nothing I didnt try before. Long as I can keep distance and keep conecting, I shuld be fine. A nice guy all around too, we got to know each other a bit vhen the event vas over. So aniway, the thing starts predictably, him keeping low, wide stance, and stable and trying to get in close to rush me, me keeping distance, back foot, and landing a few front kicks to his knees and thighs to make them sore and make him less balanced (I love going for the legs, most ppl dont condition them wel, and once they get sore and hurting there mobility is cut to nil and I can take them apart). I can see it on his face, it hurts, hes not used to it; after a half-dozen of them his left thigh goes distinktly red and I can see him start to stumble a litle. Exacly vhat I'm counting on. But this guy just gets more pissed off from the pain, and he sudenly rushes me. I sidestep, but the smal size of the ring makes it prety hard to do it good, it ends up vith me next to the fence, and him right next to me. I try to elbow him to the ribs, and it feels deep, but he just shrugs it off and tackles me, pining me to the wall, left arm around my neck in a choke-hold, vhile pounding my own left side ribs vith his right. For a wrestler, he punches prety good, and I start geting a litle short of breth on my left side and my ribs feel a bit sore. So I headbutt him rigt below the eye, to make some space, and knee him hard to the crotch (lax rules, basicly anithing goes short of biting, bone-breaking and open-palm tehniques). Credit to him, he shrugs that off too (not many guys take time and efort to condition the crotch), and entwines his leg around mine, and tackles me down. Now it starts to get tricky, since I cant let him pin me down (20 kilos on me, if he gets atop, its over, he can pound me to shit). So, he trys to clamber up, I just keep headbutting him, to the same spot, until his skin splits and blood starts to flow, to keep him from geting a purchase on me, vhile I try to wrigle free my legs to try and hook him. Both my arms are busy holding him off. This vas where I almost fucked up by trying a palm under his chin (not alowed, wuld have disqualifyed me). But the headbutts finaly make him give some space, some blood in his eye I guess, and I can land a good left hook on his temple. It makes him pull back more, I can tell hes a bit dazed.
Now heres the part vhere I fucked up for real. Hes dazed, reeling back, blood obscuring his vizion, all I had to do vas keep up the pressure, a few more hooks to his temple wuld probly have had him on his back, KOd for the count (wrestling type, guess he vasnt that used to taking hits). But my instinkt tells me to get back up on my feet first, now that I got a chance to do it (I dont like ground game, as a rule, never did, and in that case, I DEFINITLY wanted to get back up, since I vas a bit scared of geting pinned down by someone vith 20 kilos on me). So i roll away, and scramble back up on my feet. Probly took less then 2 seconds. But those 2 seconds wer enogh for him to recover, and rush me agen just as I got back up. Low bull rush, just as I straigtened, my center of mass high, he culdnt have timed it any beter if he tryed! I slammed down a elbow on his head, but he just shruged that off too as he landed atop, and this time got completly atop, his forearm at my throat, and started pounding my face vith his free fist, vhile choking me. I culdnt do much more then try to block some of it, but the bigger problem vas the forearm presing down on my throat and his vhole weigt behind it. I started to black out from lack of air, and I had to tap out. He wins, and all because I didnt folow-thru vhen I had a chance. Stil it vasnt that bad, got a busted lip and nose, and both black eyes, and some sore ribs, but he got his share of it too. :p Sure teached me a lesson on NOT ever leting-up the pressure, once you start piling it on!

So aniway, the second one hapened not too long ago, couple months, vhen my cousin Lora asked me to look after her kid. She does that sometimes, since she vorks night-shifts on a gas station, and she is a sole parent (her piece of shit huzband left them years ago, the asshole). So sometimes I agree to watch her son if the babysitter she usualy hires isnt available, and if I have time that day. I dont mind it most times, I generaly like kids, but her son can realy be a pain in the ass sometimes, since she did spoil him kuite a bit, and neglected to impose boundarys and rules. He LOVES badgering my cat. One time vhen he got swiped for it, I decided to keep my cat away in another room, vhere he is barred akcess to, any time I agree to vatch him. So, that tuesday, I hopped down to the supermarket to buy some chocolate, he wuldnt stop pestering me about geting him some, so I vent out to get some vhile I set him up on my computer and let him watch cartoons on YT to his content, hoping it wuld keep him ocupied enogh not to go to the other room my cat vas in. In hindsight, I shuld have locked that room vhen I vent out, but I didnt think he wuld try anithing, since he seemed totaly engrossed in the cartoons, and I dont like locking my cat, so I left it un-locked. Big mistake. Vhen I come back, about 10 minutes later, the kid is crying vith a deep scratch on his wrist, blood gushing out, and my cat is hissing in a corner vith a plastic bottle tyed-up to his left hind leg, trying to claw it off. I mean it vas obvius what hapened, but I got freaked out over how much blood vas gushing out, the possibility the cat's claws severed some artery in his wrist. And I realy shuld have locked that room, aniway, since I known how much he likes playing vith my cat and how agressive he gets. I washed up his vrist and binded it vith a clean towel, and driven him over to the ambulance to get a tetanus shot and a proper binding. He cryed most of the way there, the scratch vas really deep, much more then just a swipe, obviusly my cat struggled to get out of his hands. Thankfuly evrything turned out ok, and I vas able to explain it all to Lora vhen she come in to check on her son later. I also used the oportunity to point out to her agen just how much she spoiled her son and let him do vhat-ever he wants, but she just shruged it off and claimed shed set him straigt, but I heard that before. In any case since then, I make sure he has NO akcess to my cat, any time I watch him. Only watched him once more since then, and I admit, he seems to have come to his senses a litle, I guess Lora did give him a talking-to. Talked about wanting to see my cat agen, but I wont take the chance yet. He still has a scar on his wrist vhere the gash was. So yes, not locking that room vhen I left him alone vith my cat vas obviusly a dumb thing to do. My cat dont like to be man-handled and badgered, and since that vasnt the first time the kid did something like that, obviusly the cat's tolerance vas even lower then usual. Cats remember for a long time when someone dont treat them right, and it takes alot to earn there trust back.
 
As a kid, I had a tendency to eat and drink things I wasn't supposed to eat and drink. Most children have that tendency, so it's not an especially stupid or weird thing, right? But I feel like mine was on a whole new level. Not only was my tendency to eat a lot crazier than average stuff, but it also lasted pretty late into my life. I'm talking around fifth grade or so. At fifth grade, kids are doing things like solving pre-algebra problems. Not picking shit up and wondering what'll happen if I eat them.

A majority of my stupid stories involve me eating probably not edible things. The most memorable was one when I had recently asked my mom why the drink that gets you tipsy, and the stuff that makes you clean are both called alcohol. She then explained to me that they had the same stuff in them. Now, 10-year-old me got thinking. People seem to love drinking alcohol, but I couldn't have any because I was too young. But since rubbing alcohol is the same thing, I could just drink that, then I'd know what alcohol is like!

So I proceeded to drink some rubbing alcohol. To this day, I remember what it tastes like. It's like drinking alcohol with everything good about it taken out. The taste was really, really, horrible and kid me decided that drinking that was a bad idea 'cause it tasted bad. Really, the taste was the least of my problems. A little later, I started feeling really dizzy, so I was sent to the school nurse. Before I could even get there, I started throwing up basically everything that was in my stomach. I felt fine after that, but the school nurse still sent me home. When she asked me why I was throwing up I just told her,

"Um, I must've eaten something bad."
 
This is a little story from when I was eight years old. I remember it vividly, to this day.

I've been wearing glasses since I was three, when my parents first noticed I crossed my eyes every time I doodled with my crayons or played on my Yamaha keyboard. So I was pretty used to them after five years. But one day, I noticed they were missing. I was sitting in my bed, and suddenly felt like I'd forgotten something, and then questioned whether or not I'd left my glasses in the bathroom after my bath earlier in the evening. I went down to the bathroom, and they weren't there. I went up to my bedroom. They weren't there either. I went to the living room. No dice. Kitchen, even though I hadn't been in there since my bath - Still no. I searched all over the house, high and low, again and again, just looking under things and scurrying around by myself. It felt like absolutely hours.

Finally, with tears streaming down my face in the worry that I'd have to ask my parents for a new pair and they'd be mad (even though they wouldn't have been, my parents are pretty chill), I ask my mam to help me look for my glasses because I can't find them.

The dumpy ginger witch starts cackling. I, an eight-year-old child stricken with grief, am completely confused.

"Baba", she says, barely able to control herself, "They're on your face."

I brought my hand up to the bridge of my nose and, sure enough, I could feel them. I shakily pinched them and brought them off of my face to make sure they were real through my bleary, short-sighted eyes, and there they were.

If I had been the type of child to do so, I would have probably screeched a string of curses and smashed my lilac wire-framed spectacles into oblivion. Instead, I believe I ended up fubar-ing them whilst playing rough-and-tumble with my younger brother a few months later.

This is one of many 'whoopsie' stories from my childhood. I could also tell you all about the one time I told my protestant-church-ran dance club, with full conviction, that my mam was "a witch, but the good kind, like from Wizard of Oz sort of".
 
Won't say this is the dumbest thing I have ever done--I could fill a book with cringe-worthy moments--but I will tell you about the most recent one...

I went into the bathroom at work, only to be nearly felled by the noxious poop fumes. I immediately whirled around and went across the hall to the other bathroom, propelled by the desperate force of needing to pee so badly that it was an imminent threat. However, when I pushed down on the door handle, it grew incredibly and abruptly apparent that I had not exerted enough force to actually open the door, and I discovered a small, otherwise useless little fact about myself: When I am in a hurry, I lead with my right eyebrow.

I slammed into the door eyebrow-first. I hit it so hard, I bent my glasses and I thought that my eyebrow piercing was bleeding. I was so infuriated and hurt that I immediately started barking in enraged laughter for several seconds before I managed to get the door open to go in.
 
Hmmmm.... perhaps the dumbest thing I've personally done was jump into a freezing cold lake in the middle of December when I was around four, in full clothes nonetheless.

The guy who was supposed to be watching me (I think a friend of my mom's) was sitting in a lounge chair smoking a cigar when I approached the edge of the dock and was like "Watch me jump!" and he was like "Okay." because he didn't think I'd actually do it.

Lo and behold, I did in full clothes and everything, and I didn't even know how to swim. Luckily he ran and pulled me out of the lake before I actually had the chance to get hypothermia or drown.
 
When I was a young, foolish teenager I was hanging out in my living room with my friend. I lifted up a pillow over my head to hit him with it, but ended up lifting it up too quickly and with too much force that I snapped one of the blades off of our ceiling fan.

So what was our solution? Use black magic to fix it. Obviously.

We dimmed the lights, found the only candle in the room to light, and then hid the blade of the ceiling fan underneath a cloth that we drew a pentagram on. Then spent the next 10-15 minutes spouting nonsense because we didn't actually know any spells.

It didn't work in the end and I had to pay for the replacement blade out of my allowance.
 
I have so many that I could go on for days but one of the most recent things was when I was at work at Walmart and a customer came up to me with a question. With a very pretty British accent he asked if we had any scarves. Now see my hearing is bad so I always repeat the item to make sure I heard them right. Well without even thinking I repeated "Scarves?" but in the absolute WORST British accent ever. (I'm Ohio born and raised) He held it together until he was back to his friend and then they both burst into a fit of laughter. I didn't even mean to do it either, it came out of nowhere. I was so embarrassed and felt like a total idiot. >.<
 
Trust my mother. She repeatedly utilized my childhood trust to manipulate me into things I didn't understand which ultimately led to a lot of self destructive behaviours. Won't get into details about it here, though, no need to murder the mood. :p
 
Off the top of my head, for some reason I decided to flip off the monkey bars in the wrong way and that's how I fractured a wrist bone.
 
One time, when I was like 11, I tried to pet my cousin's dog but I was way too excited, so I was coming in hot and the dog thought I was trying to corner it and hit it or something. It leapt up and took a chomp out of my bottom lip.

Had to get 7 stitches, which put a damper on that vacation.
 
I once lost a $50 bill my mom gave me in a Walgreens (it wasnt even a gift, it was to pay for toilet paper and she didnt have change). I spent an hour in tears looking for it, but never found it. I still havent forgiven myself for that lmao
 
There's so many things I've done to this day that make me cringe and question why I did them...especially as a kid, hoo boy.

Let's see, a few years back, in early high school I think, I was helping my friend cook at her house with this George Forman they had or whatever, and I went to close the top but I didn't think to grab the handle since I was daydreaming a bit and lightly burned myself between my thumb and pointer finger.

Another time I reached for my fiend's dog's collar and was bit on the wrist back when I was like, 9 or 10.

This other time I showed up to school in a hand me down blouse from my granny, and a jean hat that matched nothing I wore, and was throwing up peace signs during a class picture in first geade. I found the picture recently and cry on the inside when I think of it.
 
Me and my friend didn't want to get bitten by gnats, so we decided to jump over this line of yellow tape. I tried to jump over it and almost tripped, and my friend ended up rolling into the middle of the road. Yup.
 
So, last year I did a High School level camp at a university. We stayed in the dorms. These dorms had sort of, sitting rooms, I guess? at the end of them. These sitting rooms were covered by almost floor-to-ceiling windows (they were three. Two small ones on the bottom and top, with a large one in the middle. Anyway, some kid decided it would be a great idea to bring his longboard in this tiny room.

ANyway, I was leaning against a wall and not aware of my surroundings, I moved my foot back slightly, and heard "CRACK!"

The longboard had broken the window. On the 14th floor of a University dorm.

Oops.
 
Dumbest thing to do goes to four year old me. I was warned numerous times that the back trunk of the car closed by itself by mom, but little me love putting his fingers in an area between the back of the car and the cushioning. To put it lightly, one day, my fingers got closed into the car trunk and well, I got ice. I probably have nerve damage, but *shrugs* I was four so they never check. To this day, I can't hold a thing with two hands without it feeling like it is slipping.
 
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