My brother and I happened upon some surplus grenades. We gave a few away and were wondering what to do with the last one. He took matters into his own hands and threw it into a parking garage. I was paranoid that they would investigate the blast, find that the grenades had come from the Israeli army, ask them, and then know that I was responsible. He shrugged
Another man and I stood by a stream, arguing: is it a ditch or a creek? He made the water level rise, showing what was necessary to be a creek. But either way, the bed was awfully low in the ground, showing that high water volume had passed through there at some point.
After a very long road trip, I needed to relieve myself. We stopped by a house on the corner(either the S.A.E. house or my ex-girlfriend's back home -- it kept changing) which I knew from delivering Christmas presents as part of a local charity. This house was where many deaf people lived. Two were in the living room when I entered. I couldn't really see them without my contact lenses and I don't know sign language, but I tried to communicate all the same. Giving up, I strolled to the back corner and used their bathroom.
The song needed to be heard backwards. I had a ghastly time trying to do it manually, and eventually gave up.