For me, it was the time I put a bunch of IcyHot on my inner thigh without considering that it might transfer to… a more sensitive area. These Redditors share their ‘never again’ regret stories. But I’m curious. What’s yours?
I had a 103 temperature. I was sicker than a dog from the flu and constipated like nobodys business. I was miserable. So I took 4 “fiber” pills in the morning. That caused me to have hallucination fits for the next 5 hours. Desperate to get some sleep, I took an extra strength sleeping pill.
I woke up 9 hours later, not constipated anymore and with a whole house full of laundry to do.
When my wife and I first got together, we lived in a tiny apartment and shared a twin bed. This situation continued even after she got pregnant. This, of course, substantially reduced my sleeping area. We slept in a spooning position.
One night, when she was about 7 months pregnant, I awoke in the middle of the night and tried to readjust the blanket to recover myself. It often would end up bunched up between us, so I reached down to find it and pull it back up.
There was some resistance, but I assumed that she had her foot on the blanket or something. So I pulled harder, assuming it would come free. At this point, my wife turned her head around and angrily asked what I was doing.
It turns out that I was not pulling the blanket. I had grabbed the back of her underwear and was forcefully pulling them up her buttcrack. I broke out laughing and couldn’t stop for quite awhile. She was substantially less amused and even less so after my explanation.
So the mistake I will never make again is… Never tell an angry, rudely awoken pregnant woman that you mistook her underwear for a blanket. Especially if you’re laughing hysterically at the time.
Once I made two terrible food decisions in a single day. This was years ago when I was in my middle 20’s.
I woke up hungry and went to the fridge to grab some leftover tacos. I’d accidentally forgotten it in the car over night. Still, I thought if I microwaved it, itd be fine. So I ate a chicken quesadilla that had been sitting out for over 20 hours.
Just as I was finishing it up, my buddy called and begged me to join him on a “just friends” hang session with this girl he was trying to date. They wanted to go to this Asian seafood place I’d always seen driving by, but had never tried.
So we go there. They have a kind of seafood super sampler platter. We get that. It’s supposed to feed 6, but we finish it off as a party of 4. That afternoon…it began.
My friend called and asked if I was feeling bad from the seafood, and I told him I was, but it was probably something from earlier in the day. He said, Were feeling a little queasy too, but we’ve got tickets tonight so we’re just gonna drink water and go for it. I got a date. WOO!” I wished him luck and went back to my video games.
By midnight, I thought I was going to turn inside out. It was so bad, I would have called 911 if my phone had been in the bathroom with me. But it was on my night stand and I physically could not get to it. I could hear it ringing occasionally, so I hoped that whoever was trying to call would stop by and take me to the hospital.
Turns out the calls late that night were my buddy, calling to come pick them up because they had BOTH had accidents at the concert on their first date.
Dont worry. We all survived and theyre married now.
I took a train ride from New Orleans to Washington DC. I thought I was a prodigy by choosing coach seating over a sleeper car or flying as I was saving some money by doing so.
Jump forward 25 hours in the same seat. The dude next to me was pulling a Germany vs. Poland invasion of our armrest. There was a baby screaming all night in the back of the car so I couldn’t sleep. The toilet situation had deteriorated to the point where I would have had to use my elbows and boots to open and close the door and flush. (Apparently my fellow riders were baffled by the concept of flushing and using a trash bin for paper towels.)
Id been awake 25 hours by this point and it was 3:45am.
If I ever do this again, it’s gonna be in a sleeper car. I dont care what it costs.
Murder on the Orient Express had the right idea.
I was the designated driver for my son’s 21st birthday. He was out with his dad and about 10 of his close friends, so I was pretty busy driving back and forth shlepping them all home. Finally, I get the call from dad that it’s time, and our son needs to go home.
He’s in the back seat with one of his friends when I feel a hand come from behind and grope my boob.
Then the hand quickly moves down to my inner thigh. My son then says, “What do I need to do to get me some of that?”
I don’t know who he thought I was. We don’t talk about that night. And I don’t DD for my kids anymore.
I was once in on a bet to do an “Apple Juice Challenge” where I had 30 minutes to drink a gallon of apple juice. Not too hard right? Easy $5 to be made? Not so much.
What my jerk friends didn’t tell me is that when you drink so much apple juice in such a small amount of time, it all needs to exit the body, through the back door.
What followed were the most intense, volcano blasting, butt destroying hours of my life. I was like a fire hose spraying citric acid.
I didn’t complete the challenge.I lost $5. And I even paid for the apple juice. NEVER AGAIN apple juice. Never again.
At the time, I was younger and way dumber.
I got the chance to score meth and decided to see what the hoopla was all about. I loaded everything that I bought and chased the white dragon.
I spent the next 22 hours alternating between pleasuring myself and crawling on all fours around my house trying to find meth crumbs behind the fridge that may have somehow mysteriously gotten there.
That stuff is nasty, man. Stay away from drugs.
When I was six, I distinctly remember my mom saying, “Don’t lick that grill Aaron, or it will really hurt.” I licked it.
I was offered a potato chip covered in what I was told was blueberry sauce. Gross, but bearable, right? Only it wasn’t blueberry sauce.
I put the whole chip in my mouth and quickly discovered that it was actually covered in blueberry ghost pepper sauce. Screw that guy.
I went to a timeshare presentation. I now know what purgatory is like. I lost 8 hours of my life I’ll never get back.
And of course the “free trip” was impossible to get. “We will call you on Monday sometime in the next two months, then you need to fly out on Tuesday and come back Wednesday.”
I huffed WD-40 when I was a bored teenager who wanted to get high. It just made me feel like I was unable to move. I kept zoning out and couldn’t really function. Not fun.
I just came back from a three-week backpacking trip with five other people. The trip was originally just three others (my boyfriend, brother, and cousin), but two friends wanted to join. Big mistake. You gotta keep those trips intimate. And preferably with family.
The two add-ons didn’t want to do any of the same stuff we did, couldn’t keep up, didn’t want to try any local food, complained about walking, only packed flip-flops, commented after thirty minutes at the Louvre that it was “just a bunch of paintings.” The original squad all chanted “never again” at least fifty times each the entire trip. So yeah. Never again.
This was about 8 years ago and I was probably 22 at the time. Before this I had only ever really had beer.
My friend knew the bartender at the place we were hanging out. She was making the drinks WAAAY too strong. I remember one of the last drinks I had that night was called “Adios.”
After we left the bar, I’m told I refused to stick with the group and ended up walking a few miles to the other side of town because I’m a complete idiot. At some point, I realized I was super drunk and literally called the police on myself because I was sick, puking, and lost. They ended up calling an ambulance. I had no insurance at the time and it cost me $600. Apparently when you’re that drunk the police won’t just take you home.
“Hmmm. I wonder what’s inside the medicine capsules? What if I just eat that directly instead of swallowing the pill?” (Empties onto tongue and promptly gags forever.)
Back in the days before soft contact lenses, you were supposed to clean them with hydrogen peroxide and then use a special neutralizer tablet afterwards.
I forgot to use the neutralizer before I put my contacts in. Turns out hydrogen peroxide in your eye HURTS!
A few years ago, I was leading a missions trip to Vietnam/Cambodia with a large group of 20-somethings. There was a dude on our team who was a recovering heroin addict. I had no idea, but leadership knew and did not inform me.
In light of this, and his issues with alcohol, leadership had the brilliant idea to move him from the Japan team to the Vietnam/Cambodia team so he could be with a guy who they felt had a positive influence on him.
If you’ve never been to Saigon or Phnom Penh, you can’t go a block in the touristy areas without being solicited to buy some sort of drug or a sexual service.
Shockingly, he used heroin again, and convinced another one of our students that heroin is awesome and he should totally try it. We had to send them both home. It was a nightmare.
I pleasured myself after forgetting to wear gloves while making spicy salsa from scratch.
I wish this was a never again story, but… Ive done it three times. I am an idiot.
It was my 19th birthday; fake ID; eight Irish car bombs. (Yes, eight.) I ended up throwing up in the passenger seat of my Pontiac Grand Am. I insisted that I be dropped off at my ex-boyfriends apartment, and knocked on his door completely naked.
I woke up hugging the toilet at 3pm the next day with my first ever hangover in the apartment my ex-boyfriend shared with his new girlfriend. (She lent me clothes to go home in. What a nice gal.)
I bartended for years afterward, and I refused to make an Irish car bomb my entire bar tending career. The smell of Baileys still makes my stomach turn. Never again.
I worked as a tower hand for a construction company. I used to take of my lanyard and move between booms (500-600feet up). I would also slide down the outside legs untethered because it was faster than climbing down the ladder. I cringe when I think that there was zero chance of survival if I fell.
I went down in the pantry of my grandma’s house and ate 45-year-old peaches from a jar. Did you know the human body is capable of ejecting peaches in the exact same form they were consumed? Me neither.
I was in Reykjavik, Iceland. I was bar hopping and ended up in some sort of Viking metal bar. It wasn’t really my scene but I was having a “when in Rome moment.” Anyway at some point during the set, this super intimidating looking Viking dude calls for his “thrall” and this woman comes out holding a vat of what I hope was sheeps blood.
He reaches into the vat, smears the blood on his face while screaming something in Icelandic, and then flicks his hands sending a little blood spatter to the crowd. I have never run out of a place so hard.
Once I hooked up with a girl who claimed to be actively practicing a number of pagan rituals and religions, and also was somehow Buddhist. She ended up being pretty out there. She tried to put a bunch of horrifying curses on me and stuff like that.
Never again! As silly as it might be I will always ask someone prior to sex if they claim to be or have at any point considered themselves to be “spiritual” beyond your basic belief in God. I’m not trying to mess with the occult.
This reminds me of a cringy story from my elementary school years.
A bigger kid in class got cast as Santa Claus in a school play.
I walk up to the biggest girl in the class and ask if she tried out for Mrs. Santa Claus.
She asks, “Why?”
Immediately say, Because you’re fat.”
As the words left my mouth, so did my lunch. She punched me square in the balls, which I totally deserved.
I’m sorry, Sandy. I was young, stupid, and didn’t have a filter.
The resort I stayed at in the Dominican Republic had a swim-up bar in the pool. The cocktail of the day was a pia colada. Being of newly legal drinking age and at an all-inclusive resort, I went hard on pia coladas. One after the other, in rapid succession. What I didn’t know was that, when you drink while swimming, being weightless in the water means that you don’t realize you’re drunk until you’re really drunk. I ended up getting a lot more intoxicated than I had anticipated, possibly the most I’ve ever been in my life.
I don’t remember anything between being dragged out of the pool by my parents and sitting in the corner of our hotel room, crying. Thus began many hours of tears, double vision, vomiting into the toilet, and fading in and out of consciousness on the bathroom floor. I couldn’t smell alcohol for three days without physically feeling sick to my stomach. I still drink, but because of that memory, pia coladas have been forever ruined.
Elementary school age. During the 80s. My great uncle gave my dad a jug of homemade wine. He put it right next to the apple juice. I got lit up despite trying to tell my dad that the apple juice tasted weird. Went off to school fully loaded. I’m never drinking wine again.
I was reading that tea tree oil is anti-bacterial. I wanted to use it around my eyes since I recently had a tiny put painful infection in my eyelash gland.
I did not read that it has to be diluted.
I was beet red around the eyes. The burning would not stop, though dish soap and icing helped. It looked like I just got hit in both eyes.
Screw you tea tree oil.
My boyfriend’s father gave us two bags of smoked venison sausages his friend had made. We froze one and left the other in the fridge. I guess because it was smoked I couldn’t tell when it spoiled. So one day I have some, and not 20 minutes later I almost crap my pants. I ran to bathroom, and while I’m pooping out my soul I just start vomiting into the sink, which was luckily right next to the toilet. I spent the whole day in there spewing smoked vomit and poo, and I haven’t eaten anything smoked or venison since.
Long story short I made a batch of pot brownies with a good ounce of weed. I was a freshman in high school, and had no idea what I was doing. I ate a brownie and felt noting so I decided they were weak and ate the whole batch. Needless to say, that night I was moonwalking with Michael. No seriously, I was so stoned. I was on the ground and I could literally feel my thoughts (does that make sense?). I didn’t even know if I was breathing. I was high for what seemed like the next two days.
The blazing wing challenge at Buffalo Wild Wings.
I decided to order the hottest hot wings B-dubs has to prove to my friend that I could eat more than him. I think we each started with 6 or so. He wimped out after two wings. I had already finished mine. It was painfully hot.
To add insult to injury I decided to finish my friend’s wings so I could talk a bunch of smack to him while I did it. The others in our group were cheering me on and I powered through it. The burning didn’t leave my mouth until I got home.
It’s true what they say about “pooping fire” after eating food that hot. The following day was spent on the toilet. Cheap beer + mega hot sauce = explosion of fire out of my butt. It hurt so much I didn’t know that kind of pain was even possible.
I still really like hot sauce though. So I guess I learned nothing.
I walked up an escalator that was going down cause I was too impatient to go down then up again. I turned around to look at my mum and I fell. Hard Had four holes in my leg. I only realized because my leg felt wet with blood. Now I don’t walk on escalators and am terrified walking on broken escalators that aren’t moving.