Win Wristbands to Polyphonic Spree Gig in Klyde Warren Park

Yesterday’s contest went really well. Best confession won two wristbands to the sold-out show this Saturday. Our winner was Jenna, who told us:

I confess that when my husband is asleep & snoring EXTREMELY LOUD I look into his face and start off slowly blowing air into his nose… I gradually increase the intensity of air flow until he stops snoring or swaps at me. If he swaps at me I scream like he is attacking me in my sleep & make him feel horrible for attacking me! I then tell him to go sleep on the couch because I’m scared he is going to do it again…This is Bad huh. This only happens when he snores like there is a LOUD MOTOR in his throat. I’ve done this only 4 times this year… If I get the passes will I have to tell him?!

Today we’re going in a different direction. Tell us your most embarrassing moment. Best story, as determined by me, wins two wristbands. Contest ends at 5 o’clock today. Winner must pick up the wristbands at D Mag HQ by end of business Friday.


  • bigjondaniel

    Zac Crain hates me, and blocked me on twitter. I’m humiliated

  • RossG

    I broke my leg playing golf. First question everyone asks is did you have an accident with one of the carts. Nope. Just walking along, going down a slight incline, part of the sod slipped, and snap. Growing up, I played football, soccer, and catcher in baseball with only the occasional sprain or strawberry on the leg. But playing a non-contact sport, I broke my leg. End of story.

  • Borborygmus

    I know someone who should be very embarrassed.


    A man underestimated when it comes to crook,
    Joe Driver, confessed felon, is writing the book
    On how to take taxpayers for a long ride.
    (With slim chance at prison, what’s left to hide?)

    Double dipping has led to an admission of guilt
    In Austin, where voters won’t see what he’s dealt
    As a sentence. For his admission, a slap on the wrist,
    For stealing $64,000 – but here’s the real twist.

    State law says this felon’s allowed to stay
    In office, through his term, with his full pay.
    Then retirement, another dip for old Joe
    (From taxpayer’s pockets, again, don’t you know).

    And the knife that slices, that money to repay?
    Goes into his coffers, not ours, you don’t say?
    But with funds to repay, and fines added on
    He needs every penny to pay off his con.

    Never mind the correct thing to do would be quit.
    Since when did the “right thing” matter one bit
    To this pig of a politician? Leave the trough?
    It’s just a meal for other politicians to finish off.

  • Karl

    I came home early from a cancelled class to find my obese roommate on the couch naked watching an x-rated film. I continued up the hall to my room, talking to him as if I had not witnessed anything. I gave him enough time to throw on some shorts before I came back to the living room to discuss the happenings of the day.

    From that day forward, I never sat on the couch again, and every time I came home, I always pretended that my key didn’t work, and jiggled it in the door lock when attempting to open the door. This way my roommate always had at least 25-40 seconds to turn off “Girls with Big Arses” and freshen up.

  • Trip Wooten

    During my senior year of college at UNT, I had just finished taking my final, final exam, when I had the most embarrasing moment of my life.

    I was walking with a girl in my class, who I had been trying to cultivate a relationship with for the whole semester, and we were on the fourth floor at Wooten Hall. Now, for those of you who attended UNT, you’ll remember that Wooten Hall has a staircase that drops a total of four floors directly into a major snack bar and congregating area. In the midst of conversation with this girl at the top of the stairs, and as we reviewed how we answered questions and looking down at our books, I somehow lost my footing. Within just a few seconds, I had fallen a total of two flights of stairs onto the floor below, with a pretty large crowd that had convened below (it was between periods and the break area was completely packed).

    In addition to the numerous bruises I sustained from the fall, nothing quite matched my bruised ego as I looked up to the top of the stairs and saw her laughing (along with a plethora of students in the snack bar area). In fact, you’ve never seen anyone get up from a fall so fast, as if nothing had happened, as I did on that day. Though I was in a tremendous amount of pain, I couldn’t help but laugh when one of my friends thought it would be funny to call me “Trip” for the rest of the day.

  • Randy

    My most embarrassing moment came yesterday when my wife Jenna told the world that I snore EXTREMELY LOUD and that she abuses me in my sleep.

  • Daniel


    Any guy who got through collehge without walking in on hnis roommate jerking off is a luckier man than you or me. A little discretion, please? It’s not by a sheer, uh, stroke of luck that no one ever walked in on ME. This just in: It’s not because I never did it.

    And, for the record, I refuse typo participate in this ritualized humiliation. If it were the Butthole Surfers, maybe.

  • Daniel

    Pardon the multiple typographical errors. I hit Post Comment too soon.

  • Karl

    Daniel – it wasn’t college; but, graduate classes at the Havard Divinity School. And, it’s not like I have away the Archbishop’s name in my original post, so lighten up on the discretion nonsense.

  • Daniel

    I meant could he, the roommate guy, have a little discretion, please? Not you, Karl.

  • Karl

    Sorry Daniel. Blogs make me defensive. And, Gibby would have been a great choice to open the park.

  • Tish

    I was bribed by a lb of gummy worms to enter a Madonna look-a-like contest. This was during the True Blue days…so being a short haired male did not pose too much of an obstacle. The contest was held at the highest foot traffic mall in Miami bringing in more annual guests than Disney. The winner got free tix and a limo ride to her show at the Miami Arena.

    So my brother helps me raid my moms closet for her sexiest clothes which is bothersome in its own right. I have high heels, a slip, a funky bra and baby powder to color my hair the Madonna white of the Papa Don’t Preach days. I am uncomfortably a really spot on Madonna of that time frame.

    My brother drives me and my 6th grade beat friends to the mall for the contest. I see that every other contestant (all female) are dressed in Material Girl era style. I epitomize Who’s That Girl vintage Madonna while they’re outdated from the Borderline days.

    The look-a-like contest is actually a look-a-like, dance and lip synch contest. If I’d known this 10lbs of gummy worms would not suffice. Anyways, everyone gets the popular songs…except me. To this day I can not tell you what Madonna song was played for my shining moment. My typical dance move would best be described as a Bar Mitzvah two step (one step to the left. One step to the right. Accentuated with an underbite and an off beat hand clap), so this was foreign territory. So I thought WWMD…and rolled on the floor in the Madonna masturbatory fashion with a few finger licks and sexy pointing at people for good measure.

    My teacher walks by the large crowd. Sees my two buddies giggling like crazy. Unaware that it is me on stage she remarks “that is an ugly girl”.

    I came in 3rd place. Got a lb of gummy worms. And ended my transvestite career.

    I’ll spare you the limo reward. Just the concert tickets to my favorite musical cult garb wearers will suffice.

  • Frederick

    Thanks Tish for bringing back a memory for me. SMU / 1984 / heading out to Starke Club from my friends condo at corner of Rankin and Dickens. As we were about to get into the car, a car came to a screeching stop on the street and five HP High girls jumped out and asked if they could take my picture. I said sure, not knowing that that picture of me with spiked-hair, eye make-up, broach, and white-brocade dinner jacket would forever foreclose my ability to seek higher office. Our country’s future was irreparably damaged that cool November evening, and for that, I am truly embarrassed.

    Either that, or the time I introduced myself to Zac in the artist’s grove at ACL this year as if he should know my name. He would have, if not for that damn picture.

  • @Randy: Dude, you need to get some scene control. (But that stuff is seriously funny.)

  • My2Cents

    My most embarrassing moment came when I was at home from college one summer. My mother, had asked me if I wanted to go to some concert with her. I was non-committal as it was 10am in the morning and I had just woken up. After breakfast, I decided it was time to shower and get ready for the day. That morning, whilst in the shower, I decided that it was time to “handle myself”. Well you can probably guess where this is going. Mom decided that even though I was 21, wasn’t living at home, and was obviously taking a shower that it was the perfect time to barge into the bathroom to ask me if I had made a decision on the the concert. Mom and I can’t look at each other in the eye to this day.

  • The Great Earp Hope

    Most embarrassing story…

    I’ve been friends with clmbiasnr for over 10 years.

    Thanks for the wristbands.

  • when I was in 6th grade I told everyone I could escape any form of being tied up. So they tied me to the basketball pole at recess. I couldn’t get out and a teacher had to come get me out. Also, the junior high kids were eating lunch and the lunchroom overlooked the court soothe entire school saw it happen.

  • Another great contest, folks.

    @Randy: I hope that’s really you. Because that’s funny. But I assume your abusive wife is already taking you.

    @Karl: That’s a good one, but you weren’t the one caught flogging yourself.

    @My2Cents: Your mom and I have the same problem. (What?)

    @Trip Wooten: I like your tale. I have a similar one and feel your pain. But …

    @Tish: You win and here’s why: for your most embarrassing moment, you have only yourself to blame. I love the way your story builds and builds to the, uh, climax of your pantomime masturbation. Good work.