Guess who's having delusions of grandeur in regards to his wit again! That's right, not me! I'm hilarious.
Alright, here's a story. I'm not so good at talking to people, so I like to use visual aids to communicate my points. In keeping with this, and being the Casanova that I am, I formulate this really romantic and spontaneous plan to lose my virginity. I go get on my computer and go to Vistaprint and take my time designing this really, really nice looking card. It's got flowers and really fancy font all over it, and it says my name along the top border followed by, "V-Card. One Time Use for Someone Special." So I carry this thing in my wallet for months and months, and finally one day I'm out with my friend and meet this girl who isn't repulsed by me on an instinctual level. Wind up at an above-average fast food restaurant a week later and get proper hyped up on coffee at 11 P.M., which is what I hear you're supposed to do when you're a mature adult on the dating scene. It's totally safe, too, because I make sure she doesn't drink more than 2 cups of coffee, because I'm too cool to have a car and she drove us here, and I'm not so reckless as to let someone drive after too much coffee. After my 4th cup, I've got to pee pretty bad and it looks like she's done eating so I pull my wallet out before I go to the restroom and leave the money on the table. I pretend to be all cool and stop halfway through putting my wallet back into my pocket and look at her. "Oh," I say, "I've got something for you, too." I reach in and toss the V-Card onto the table and saunter off towards the bathroom. I take my time, really enjoy urinating, because when you're as smooth as I am, the world can wait while you relieve yourself. After I wash my hands I even pull out a little pocket comb and prepare my hair for the messing it's about to get once I score so hard. This plan can't fail.
Now, I know what you're all thinking. "He's still got that card." Well, go ahead and laugh it up, because you're wrong. That ******* that thought it was my bank card and mugged me when I had to walk home after she drove off and left me does. Either way, I got ****ed that night, so I'd call it a net gain.
ADDIT: So, there's not really a dedicated humorous factual anecdotes thread, so I'll post this here and maybe give it a slight bend to fit the theme. Yes, they're all true.
This one time at Bible Camp, and yes, I went to Bible Camp every summer for 4 years, I had just hit the age where they let you start going. I go to this really old-fashioned church, and we had a Youth Group of only like 15 kids, most of them being in their later teens while I was around 11. Anyway, one night they decide to get the fawning wide-eyed young scamp into some trouble and convince me to dress up in one of the chaperone's clothes. There might have been the suggestion that I lay on his counter and pretend to be touching myself when he entered the little apartment dorm, but I'm not going to claim to recall the details. It was kosher, though, because he was only a chaperone in the sense that he was 18 and thus legally capable of watching a bunch of 16 year olds and we were bros with him. Being bros with a dude and dressing up in his clothes with the intention to feign masturbation aren't conducive actions, I learned that night.
I think it was actually later the same night, to my shame, that we were playing aggressive wrestle-tag. The camp was at this college, so we're set up in dorms with a main living room and four bedrooms in every corner to an apartment. Each bedroom has it's own key. So I'm getting chased and having a grand old time and manage to get myself locked up in my bedroom. Now, being the little ninja that I am, I decide I'll throw them all through a loop and hop out my window and sneak back in the front. I left my key on the desk. So I come back in through the front door, all puffed up and show them my resourceful nature in climbing out of windows to escape getting tagged. It's all good and we have a laugh. Until I go to open my door and discover I've locked myself out. I freak out a little, being 11, and we go back outside to the still cracked window. I'm just about to crawl back in, and they're lifting me up into the window and it's all good, but suddenly the Bible Cops roll up on their little patrol golf carts, because this is Bible Camp and you don't mess around with post-curfew breaking-and-entering shenanigans when you're sheepherding young impressionable souls. She doesn't even bother to come over, and just yells rather aggressively to get down right that instant. I'm pretty scared now, because the Bible Cops are busting me for a misdemeanor, and I'm pretty sure I remember a guy going to Hell for that somewhere in Numbers. So they pull me down off the window ledge as the Holy Warriors roll off to enforce the Holy Tenants elsewhere. The dude's I was playing tag with are telling me to chill and keeping their hand in the window, they'll lift me up again in a second when she's good and gone. Then the Youth Pastor's son comes up and asks what we're up to. Now, he's a cool dude too, but he's kind of high on himself, so he kind of scoffs and reaches past the guy holding the window and pulls it shut. At this point, I'm pretty sure I'm not leaving Bible Camp with my ticket to Heaven, so I start crying on the lawn of the dorm. Youth Pastor comes around and asks what's up, and I explain through the tears. We went to the front desk and got another key.
Now, to shift some of the madness off of me, there was also this blind kid in our Youth Group. He's cool, but he's maybe a smidge mentally handicapped; I honestly think there was some hereditary deficiency with his whole family, they're all a little off, but nice people. Now, he may be blind and a bit slow, but when you're a player you play the game. This is a Southern Baptist Bible Camp, so everyone's really overly nice and friendly, and especially all the girls are going out of their way to hang out with the nice blind kid. He's been blind his whole life, as far as I know, and he's like 15, so he's pretty adept at the whole "functioning while handicapped" thing. But these girls don't know that. His little walking stick's awfully hard to use for navigation, you see, and sometimes he needs some guiding in the form of holding on to people. Blind dude can't be blamed when he repeatedly decides that breasts are the best thing to hold on to when nice young ladies offer to help you around campus. I'm pretty sure that's how Saul finished the last leg of the road to Damascus, at any rate. And he and all his friends didn't end up with an impromptu sexual harassment lecture from a stunned Youth Pastor, either.