This is from a few years ago now. I was with my Dungeons and Dragons group, waiting for the remaining members to appear, and the DM was about to make some comment on Pedobear. It came out differently than he meant to. "Feral Pedodragon." PEDODRAGON.
Another time, several of the other players and I came in and after talking for a few minutes, one of the other players noticed how a female friend of ours had left a few objects on one of the stools in his room; (his room was very messy; most things like that went unnoticed) upon this single seat was a copy of Sex for Dummies, a very large bowie knife, and a black functional black leather cow whip.
In some of our misadventures, I started my second D&D character ever; Genar the Warmage. (warmage's quote; There is no problem that can't be solved without the proper application of high explosives. Once when I was gone, my DM had him say that >.>) He met the crew by being chased out of town by angry villagers (he had just blown up a LARGE chicken coop after he was caught stealing) teleported incorrectly onto the crew's ship, and was offered a job. (actually enslaved, if kept alive and out of jail)
On his first mission, we entered a huge cavern system filled mostly with undead. At one point, I, a human warmage, a scout lizard and a halfling fighter are separated from the rest of the group by a cave-in. Then umber hulks come through the walls (imagine 10-foot tall beetles crossed with praying mantises that move through earth and stone like water) and attack the others. The others are half-way across the room and getting torn apart before I even get a turn. Finally, it's my turn, and the umber hulks are right next to each other-and me. I grin and cast fireburst. (Wrath of the Gods doing fire damage) I roll damage. The halfling stares from under the torso-less insect legs, and the other part of the party hears this emanate from him through several tons of rock:
"GODDAMNIT, WARMAGE!!!" This became the tagline for that character.