From when I was a kid:
An old friend and I used to light smoke bombs on fire and then hit them into neighbors yards with a racquetball racket. It's surprising how far those little bastards can go. We're lucky we never set anything on fire doing that.
Same guy and I fired a bottle rocket at this neighborhood girl who was going down a really steep hill on her bike. We timed it almost perfectly, as it blew up right beside her. She freaked out and lost control of the bike and then let go of the handle bars. The bike then started to swerve uncontrollably and finally ended when her and the bike wiped out big time. Afterwards we felt horrible because she had some pretty bad road rash.
From when I was a grown up kid:
I was absolutely shit-house drunk one night and walking home. I had eaten some bad bar food earlier and it was not sitting well. About half way home I was really starting to feel it, and figured that I better start running home otherwise I was going to shit myself. Since I was absolutely wasted, I wasn't really thinking clearly, and running wasn't the brightest idea as it actually accelerated the process. Eventually I felt my ass explode from the nasty bar-nachos and hot-dogs I had earlier. I might have been food poisoning, or it just might have been how drunk I was, but either way my lower half was covered in drippy shit. I was wearing some loose fitting shorts, so it had completely run down my legs and into my shoes at that point. I finished my shit soaked journey home and stripped down to my boxers in the front yard. I hosed myself off best I could in the freezing weather. I then dumped my shorts, boxers and shoes in the garbage and went inside with a shirt tied around my waist to take a shower. I was mainly thankful that my roommates weren't up and that I didn't have to explain myself.
I go commando on occasion.