I can't believe the Final Four is already here. Glad you guys are here. I see you wore a shirt with your favorite commenter's logo on it. That's a nice touch.
Now sit down and vote. And grab me a beer while you're up.
Welcome back to The Worst Moment of My Life, a regular feature in which readers share photos and videos of their most miserable life experiences. If you'd like to be a part, send yours to us at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Our top photo comes from reader Mike, after drinking through the Indians' home opener in 2009.
Buddies went out for a Wendy’s run while I puked all over the living room and split my head open when I slammed into a wall on the way to the bathroom ... which is where I finally passed out. A note on the Wedge jersey – yes, I am quite positive I am the only non family member of then-skipper Eric Wedge to own his jersey, let alone a signed jersey – purchased in a show of support amongst my idiot friends who said he wasn’t the “small ball” guy we needed. All bad moments culminated into one bowl.
Nikky (who we met last week taking a cake in the face from the Falcons mascot):
The day my mom though a spiral perm would offset my teeth, that looked like I had been gnawing on a pile of jagged rocks, and drove me to the Wal-Mart portrait studio.
We're going to need an explanation from Will about this pantsless Asian man:
I was in Rome with my girlfriend at the time and we came home really late one night, only to pass out right when our heads hit the pillow...It was 4 am when I woke up to a sound coming from the door. I inspected a little bit and realized that someone was trying to open our door with their key card. I decided to let the obviously drunk man try for a few more minutes, hoping that he would realize that it wasn't his room, and leave. The man proceeded to try to open our door for like 10 minutes before he got tired of trying and just started knocking loudly.
I got up and opened the door only to have the man try to barrel his way in to our room as I stuck my hand out to stop his progression. The man then realized what he was doing and apologized while he stepped back, revealing to me that he was only wearing a polo shirt and NO PANTS! He mumbled "Oh, sorry, sorry", which sounded like a typical racist impression of an old Asian man. I tried to help by asking him what room number he was in, but this man truly spoke no English at all. He stumbled his way down the hall, and I closed the door only to see my girlfriend was still sleeping.
It was close to 4:45 and I needed to be up at 8, so I decided to try and sleep again. Right when I was almost in to a deep slumber, the sounds came from the door again. I got up to inspect once again, only to find the pants less Asian man beating on my door again! I opened up and he tried to barge his way in again. I stop him and he repeats the same hilariously stereotypical line of "Oh, sorry, sorry", before he shuffled off down the hall again. I am now busting up laughing loud enough to wake up my girlfriend. As I explain what was going on, the man comes back again and the same sequence of events repeats itself. We both sat up until 6am wide awake as the Asian man came back about 5 more times before I decided to call the security. So there I was in my hotel in Rome at 6am, trying to explain to the Italian receptionist in English that a drunk, pantsless Asian man has been trying to break in to my room since 4am. The lady didn't quite understand, but she sent the security up anyway. Once they arrived, I snapped a pic of the man before they led him away. I needed it as proof, because I knew no one would have believed my story. The next day was such a drag as I was running on about an hour sleep.
Maybe the worst moment for me and the Asian man at the same time?
Reader who wants to stay anonymous for obvious reasons:
I failed a final exam miserably and thus had to do an extra semester in college. After the test I went straight to the bar to get black out drunk. When the bars closed I went home and continued to drink on my porch. Apparently I decided to take my shirt off at some point. I awoke the next morning to a group of about ten 4th-5th graders spraying me with silly string, throwing eggs at me. Not only did I start vomiting, but I also realized they had taken what little money I left in my pockets.
Here I am at bat in the 1989 Hamden Father's little league playoffs. I knew the guy pitching and unfortunately for me, his control was not very good. My Dad happened to snap this photo as I took one in the ear. I woke up in the batter's box and tried to stand up, but fell right back down. The ride to the hospital was awful, and all I recall was everything spinning. I had a pretty good concussion and spent a good part of the next day throwing up.
I was five years old when my parents decided it was time for my brothers and I to see our ancestral homeland of Pakistan for the first time. Seeing as I was an easily startled, altogether pansy as a child the sheer culture shock of a third world country was enough to give me stress induced diarrhea for three weeks straight. Hey but at least my brothers and I got to ride a camel! Thats me in the middle, pretty much sums up the trip.
Shawn (presumably not pictured) (also, photo is ridiculously gross and NSFW and you shouldn't look at it):
Pretty standard night out in Montreal.
This isn't me, but one of my best friends. This is her back after falling asleep in her backyard a few summers ago.
My college roommate's 21st went well, huh?
I was mugged on the street and was struck several times with a bat. This lead to a broken rib which punctured my lung. The bottom stitched up spot is from a chest tube. A chest tube being removed is the worst pain I've ever felt and by far the worst moment of my life.
Receiving this fathead in the mail after coming in last in my fantasy league last season. You can guess who my QB was.
I was walking home from class and approaching a busy street. I had the walk signal so I proceeded to cross the street. A girl was texting while driving and blew through the red light, blindsiding me from the left side going 35mph. I blacked out and went over the hood, into the windshield and over top of the roof of the car before landing in the street and waking up.
I was laying in the road when the girl who hit me gets out of her car, walks up to me and says to me "the light was yellow"..I said "no it wasn't" she then immediately burst into tears. I was in the hospital for a week with a double fracture of the humerus. surgery followed. I should also include that this happened on Valentines Day...hell of a present for my girlfriend.
I included a picture of the car, then a picture of the girl who hit me crying.
Sucks to be all of you. Please keep sending along your worst moments to email@example.com.