I've posted this before, but this is my best crash story.
I've only crashed once on my road bike, and there was nothing funny about it. But I've had uncountable crashes on my mountain bike. My most memorable was on the Porcupine Rim trail in Moab. Off the rim there's a section where you ride on dry river rock (smallish flat, slippery stones), and we were bombing it, barely on the edge of control, flirting with disaster, and having a great time. We passed a group of guys who had pulled off the trail for some reason. I still remember their expressions as we passed them: They were actually stunned, wide-eyed and mouths agape, as we came flying by.
Anyway, the trail section ends at a dropoff that can best be described as a cliff, where someone pushed a pile of of rocks over the edge. The rocks act as a staircase that you can ride, if you dare. This isn't a problem for experienced riders like we were, but it does present some challenges. Balance is crucial, and you also need to keep a certain amount of speed, because you can't really pedal. My buddy went down first, and I followed. I was doing fine, but I could tell that I was running out of speed. These were big steps, maybe a foot wide, but 1 to 2 foot drops from one to the next. I knew the game was up when I dropped my front wheel down one deep step and didn't have enough speed to carry it forward. I was effectively doing a nose wheelie, and it didn't take long for the back wheel to rotate over and I was crashing down on the rocks. The funny part was that I was unhurt, so I immediately got up, and could see that the guys who we had passed earlier were at the top of the stairs, again with the stunned looks on their faces. I shouted up to them, "Did my feet get over my head?" They looked at each other, then one guy said, "What????" I asked again, did my feet get over my head. One of them muttered "Yeah," and I threw up my arms in a victory sign and shouted "YES!" My buddy also joined the celebration. The guys at the top of the stairs were completely baffled. See, we had a sort of rule at the time that the only crashes you could brag about were the ones where your feet got above your head. Nobody cares if you slid out or ran into a tree. But if your feet get over your head, that's something to talk about.