What’s your funny if terrifying experience
Mine goes back to my callow youth. As “a dedicated follower of fashion?” (Apologies to “Who”). I bought highway man suit (for the uninitiated frocked 6 buttoned DB coat with a 3peice collar that stood up at the back ) green suit (flairs) (somewhere between tree frog green and olive) and pale orange shirt and matching tie for a New Year party W/E at a stud farm. (Cool or what?) Today I recon I looked more like the vegetarian hero the Lone Asparagus rather than a dashing highwayman.

The next morning 25 horses were brought to ride as I had SOME experience I was allocated a huge (21hands plus) ex race horse called Proper John (PJ).
He was a cranky and uncooperative beast ….the others left I was to catch up…but the reason he had been retired was he had a trick knee when he galloped it went out and he stopped abruptly. Eventually we set off and the galloped…stopped but I didn’t ….gave new meaning to the term tossed salad.
Stubborn as usual I remounted and continued. But…someone had left the gate open to the in-season mares. PJ decided to start the NY with a bang…with me on top, of several 100kgs of amorous horses. By this stage I perhaps 4 meters of the ground terrified and screaming at the bloody horses to stop…no it didn’t work or make me feel better.
The others returning heard the noise came to investigate. Imagine 24 mainly girls in fits of laughter…I was latter blamed for several premature hilarity inspired soiled knickers.
The owner betweens tear of laughter came to my rescue.
They described me as a cross between a slice of honeydew melon and a sea sick octopus attempting to strangle the poor horsy ha ha ha ha etc..
I spent the rest of the weekend trying to pretend I was a miscoloured piece of rain tank mould. I've only riden a horse once since then. in a ridding school yard.
Guess what my nick name became

Dear examinator,

I remember this particular incident only too well.
It happened soon after my second son was born
and I had not lost all of my weight. My best
girlfriend took it upon herself to work out a regime
of bicycle exercises for me. She was determined that
I would get back to my original shape quickly.

It was the middle of winter - and my girlfriend was
to come to my home three times a week - and work out
with me on our lounge room floor.

On that first night, I had eaten a three-course meal,
and managed to squeeze into a tight fitting pantie-girdle,
over which I wore cullottes, (I wanted to look svelte).
But the reality was I was trussed up like a turkey. I
Cleared the furniture out of the lounge, and waited for
my friend to arrive.

On arrival my friend immediately go down to business.
Down on the floor she went, Feet high up in the air,
and proceeded with the bicycle exercises. Looked so easy.

Down on the floor I went, and hard as I tried, I couldn't
get my bum up off the floor, let alone my feet up in the air.
But, I didn't give up. Finally, with all my might, I heaved,
and up went my bum and legs,
and,
I farted.

My girlfriend, got up, calmly packed her stuff and left.
She thought I did it on purpose. She didn't speak to me
for a few days after that.

My husband, who heard my shrieks, came dashing into the room
to find my laughing hysterically on the floor.

I managed to lose my weight on my own, and I haven't regained
it since. My girlfriend still reminds me of that incident.
It was funny for me, but 'terrifying' for her at the time.
One of her favourite sayings is, "It's the early bird that
catches the worm." But I remind her that, "It's the second
mouse that gets the cheese!"

cont'd

Great story examinator - I would have loved to have
seen it.

As for your nickname...

The one that comes to mind is too rude to list here.

There was a particular experience which, while it didn't change my life too much, forever scarred my youngest son.

It was the middle of the day,kids at school, and I had just finished a paper I had been researching for weeks. So I rang my man up and told him to get his butt over.

Having been such a reclusive grouch for so long, I decided to make it special: Lots of candles, incense and me lying naked, with a glass of wine on the bed. The piece-de-resistance came when I remember a packet of stick-on jewels I'd got for a fancy dress party.

Being a "Brazialian" girl, I took some huge, flashy "diamonds" and "rubies" and stuck them in a pretty pattern on the appropriate part of my anatomy.

Hearing the screen door open I called out in a husky voice "I'm in here. In the bedroom!"

The door flew back...and there stood my 15year old son, sent home with a toothache!

We stared at each other in horror, like rabbits caught in the headlights, before he stumbled off down the passage moaning "Burn out my eyes!" "Burn out my eyes, quick!"

We do not EVER, refer to this episode.

Good grief Romany, I don't think I could top that one.

I dunno about terrifying, but I do have a somewhat mortifying experience to relate.

In my university days, before I knuckled down and actually took the studying part seriously, I was rather partial to a night out on the town (still am, actually).
I had a rule though - never miss the lectures. Even if I hadn't really studied as much as I should have, or if I'd barely slept, if I was physically capable of making it to the lecture theatre, I'd damn well be there.

There was one particularly extravagant night out, and I hadn't slept at all. Zip. Nada. As you can imagine, my body was yearning to hit the pillow, but damned if I'd miss my 8am lecture the next morning. I simply went home from, changed and showered, then went to the lecture without sleeping.

I struggled valiantly to stay awake, but in the end that was a losing battle. The thing is, when I woke, I had a series of unfortunate discoveries.

Cont'd.

The first was, that I had begun to slouch, so my feet slowly drifted underneath the chair in front of mine, and nudged the feet of the person in front of me. For some reason, when my foot hit theirs, I awoke with a yelp of sorts. I think they might have made a noise too (albeit less spectacular than mine).
Feeling somewhat disoriented (I usually find it hard to sleep, and had never woken in a manner that wasn't horizontal before) I made quite a noise. A good portion of the 300 or so people in the packed in the crowded albeit almost silent lecture theatre turned around, some with rather disapproving looks.
Some however, were smirking.

It was at this point, that I glanced around and noted that the people on either side of me weren't the ones I had been sitting next to originally. I then had that 'oh crap' feeling in my stomach.
In fact, the lecturer was different too. I'd slept through half of my lecture, then everyone had filed out as I snoozed away, and the entire lecture theatre filled up again.

So, my choice was... stay and put up with the shame and ignominy, or attempt to make a break for it, which would entail all manner of 'scuse mes' as I went for the door.

I stayed for five minutes then got the hell out of there.

After that, I always ensured I had a certain amount of sleep before going to lectures...