Suicide Goes Wrong
In France, Jacques LeFevrier left nothing to chance when he decided
to commit suicide. He stood atop a sheer cliff and tied a noose around
his neck. He tied the other end of the rope to a large rock. He drank
some poison and set fire to his clothes. He even tried to shoot himself
at the last moment. He jumped and fired the pistol. The bullet missed
him completely and cut through the rope above him. Now freed from the
threat of hanging, he plunged into the sea. The dunking extinguished
the flames and made him vomit the poison. He was dragged out of the
water by a kind fisherman and was taken to a hospital.
Where he died of hypothermia.
Bungling Burglars
A group of Essex house burglars got less than they bargained for when they discovered a bag of fine powder marked 'charlie' in a pot on the mantlepiece of their victims Chadwell Heath home. Little did they know as they racked it out into lines (found by police) and prepared to tuck in, that it wasn't cocaine, but actually the ashes of a dog named Charlie. The big dog passed on in 1997 and owner D Blythe - who lost two TV's, a VCR, a stereo and gems worth £2,000 in the burglary, said - the idea of them trying to get high on a dead dog made me feel better.
Rugby Balls
When studying in Ireland, i took up rugby. As my first season wore on, the lads and i were eventually sheduled to play a team which had quite a reputation for violent play. Considering that we weren't the most talented outfit to have ever taken to the field, we decided to accept the challenge with a 'do or die' attitude, hoping things would eventually swing our way. They didn't. And to make matters worse, our star player, Alan, dislocated his hip after a particularly ferocious tackle. He was clearly in a lot of pain, so we all stood back to watch the medic, who, in one swift movement managed to slot the hip back into its socket. Immediately afterwards Alan began to scream hysterically. To our horror, we realised that one of his testicles had become jammed into the socket, and was now firmly held in place by the hip. Incidentally, Alan also managed to rip a vocal chord while screaming.
Elevator
Travelling with a party in Brindisi in Italy, after checking into our hotel, we met initially in one of the rooms to quaff a few beers before venturing out into town. An hour or so later, I left the party to take the lift to my room and get changed. After entering the lift, and pressing my floor number, I was surprised when the lift suddenly stopped descending, and I was left facing closed doors. I had a little chuckle to myself initially, then, realising my predicament, I did the first thing that came into my head. I prised open the doors. There, behind the doors, was a brick wall. A few seconds passed whilst I scratched my head and considered how foolish I was going to look when the rest of the guys found out that I was stuck in the lift. I tried, as a last resort, to press the button for the floor I had just left. Hearing a noise behind me I turned around to see a second set of doors closing on a foyer full of amused hotel clientele.
Pile Prodder
About five years ago an old WW2 veteran used to come into a hospital clinic in the east end of London suffering from bad haemorroids (piles). The clinic did what they could, but they could never relieve the most painful pile, which would hang down and get stuck on the seam of the mans underpants. To rid himself of the nuisance of this pile, the old man used to push it back up into his rectum using the artillery shell from an anti-aircraft gun he used to man in the war. One day the shell got stuck and the man was forced to hobble down to the hospital to get it removed. As the doctor was about to insert his fingers into the old mans rectum to remove the shell he said 'Of course, this shell is spent, isn't it?' 'Oh no,' said the old man 'There's enough ammo in that shell to blast a Messerschmidt out of the sky.' So the doctor called in the army bomb squad, who built a lead box around the old man's asshole and defused the shell in situ before removing it.
