Oh, I've done so many stupid things. Probably one of the stupidest was the time I shaved off my eyebrows:

Okay so, for a bit of context I really like eyebrow slits. How I wear them changes often, but I usually always have a couple somewhere. So I was putting in one in my right eyebrow, when just for a second, I let intrusive thought take over and put the running clippers up to my eyebrow. I wasn't thinking. Boom, half my eyebrow gone and instant regret. Instead of just covering that bit up like a normal person with some make-up or a band-aid, I thought, "well we're in it now, might as well shave off both my eyebrows" And then because I thought the stubble looked weird, cleaned em up with a razor to make it litterly as short as possible.

Now don't get me wrong, I think the futuristic look with no eyebrows is insanely cool, but its not for me. Cue hours of make-up tutorials and a bunch of make-up to make my eyebrows look as natural as possible. As a male who doesnt usually wear any make-up and has very dark eyebrows this was a real challenge. Eventually ended up settling on an eyebrow tint and some realistic looking temporary eyebrow tattoos. After 1-2 weeks when some stubble grew back giving it natural texture so it wasn't as bad, but man eyebrows grow so slowly, especially compared to my facial hair. Oh also, did I mention I was rocking a buzzcut-mullet (not intentionally the barber messed me up and I didnt want to fog full buzzcut)

Most awkward experience with shaved eyebrows was probably when I had a concert in a neighboring city followed by a Marching band parade the next morning. I packed eyebrow tattoos in my bag. When it was searched in preperation for the concert, the security guard made such a big show about the eyebrow tattoos. Very small thing but extremely embarrassing in the moment for 17 year old me. My friend was with me and I could tell she was analyzing my eyebrows the rest of the night lol. But alas, my eyebrows are back in full business again, and I have gained new knowledge.

Why don't we continue the tragic stories of electronic scooters?
Well, when I was a large bit younger I had been gifted a moped. Now, this thing was beautiful in my eyes- it was a pristine thing with shiny sloped sides and lovely silver hardware, but, aside from the newfound mobility, my favorite part was the lilac coloring across the sides fitting inbetween white stripes. It went.. fast? Okay- it felt fast. It maybe went a max speed of ten, fifteen mph, but it's not the speed that counts, it's the journey! Something like that, yeah?
Well, I lived at the veery tippy-top of a cul-de-sac stationed on a light slope, with sidewalk wrapped around like a eclipsed moon, curving down into the street at the very bottom. Me and my friends would spend hours playing with the thing (even if most of the time was waiting for it to charge once someone enevitibly had to walk it back up the loop) and miraculously, nobody got hurt doing so!
Well, until someone ran their own foot over and broke it, but hey they were fine. I think.
After a week or so of probation I was back at the game! I was riding that thing at speeds never seen before (maybe 15 mph downhill- speeds unknown to humanity!) when I realized, just a moment too late..
Wait, why is the sun glinting off the c-
Wet. Concrete.
No marking, no nothing. Just wet concrete drying in the sun- until it became wet concrete drying.. everywhere?
It was in the grass, it was up and down their driveway (because they were rich enough for a driveway, of course they were! They had paid their own money to repair the cracks between their sidewalk and driveway, or so I asume!), and possibly worst of all it was all over my beautiful, once-florally colored moped. My now gray moped was sideways in the grass, having flown out from beneath me as I hit the wet part. I, somehow even less fortunate, was left laying in concrete, having skidded across the jaggedly half-set edges and slowed to a stop in the heavy yet thin substance. My vision blurred, all grays and bright red as I took in my situation. Luckily, kids are invincible and adreniline is a hell of a drug. Looking like a vandilized gargoyle I trudged back home, dragging my moped with me.
My poor mother was astounded, but ever calm she hopped to action, hosing me down gently where she could and using a wet cloth for what she couldn't, applying huge bandaids once my scrapes were clear of concrete. I remember her laughing- though I could tell she was nervous, not sure if I was hurt worse than I seemed under all the grey- and telling me a story about my aunt wiping out a half hour's walk from her house when she was younger. My laugh then was a lot more genuine, and I think that made her smile. Unfortunately, the canvas stadium chair I had chosen is still stained with concrete to this day, much alike the moped. A few years after my parents parted ways, it disapeared from where it sat in the back of our storage, almost haunting in it's grey glory, the hints of glorious purple shining through the drips of concrete long dried.

Two years after the fact, my father bought me one of those off-brand handsfree segway things! I wonder how he convinced my mother to agree to that.

I went sledding and flew down the hill and landed in the creek! Then I thought "Well maybe I can use my sled as a boat." So I decided to put it in the creek and use a stick as an oar. Then, i began to sink! So I floundered around in my snow clothes! I finally got out. (This was when I was 8)

When I was i the forth grade my friend would bring his cat to school and hide it in his bookbag one time my other friend had to use the bathroom #2 and the stalls were being used so he grabed my friends bookbag with the cat in it and pooped in it... the cat was coverd in poop and pee and was running around the school, it went in a class room driping with pee and poop the teacher sliped and all the kids started giggling and taking thier phones out recording this is when the principal ran in like some hero and sliped too... later both of my friends were suspended and the cat ran off somewere away from the school.

The day I found out the Tooth fairy/Santa wasn't real. I was around 7-8 when it happened. I was looking for something(maybe clothes?) in my parents room from the closet and something had fell from the top of the shelf. It was a box, not just any box but my tooth box. At that moment I was so distressed realizing what is was and why it was there. I just started bawling, I don't remember much but my mom had come to see what was going on and saw what I had.

When I noticed her I just became so mad, and I don't why but ran and I locked myself in the bathroom. I was so angry just yelling from bathroom and I had asked does this mean that Santa isn't real either. Silence, that just got me even more angry and emotional. It took her about 2 hours to calm me down and leave the bathroom. It took like a day or two forgive my parents and forget about it. XD

Oh this story is going to be great.

So I was at the age of 3 or 4 and I really had to use the bathroom in a walmart. But when my mom got me and my little sister in the bathroom I noticed someone was in there. Me being the nosey little kid i was i peaked under the stall and said 'Hello? What you doing?" The women broke out laughing and my mom said "Child! You can't do that!" And it happened again once we got out of the stall but my sister did it with me. That was the last time we got to use the public bathroom in a store