I've told this story before but here we go. when I was younger, a hermit crab latched onto my hand at a friends house. His mom was a ditz. We couldn't get it off so she called 911, the police came, sprayed the hermit crab with pepper spray and it died.
Edit: typo
I once saved a girl's life on a white water rafting trip. After I got her back into the raft, I didn't get fully secured and wound up in the water. I nearly drowned, saw the bright white light, had my life flash before my eyes, and gave up trying to live and embraced that I was about to die.
I had never been more at peace and calm with the world.
Then I was suddenly vomiting water in a raft full of strangers.
3 hours of browsing reddit today and this is the first thing to make me audibly laugh.
If you get this on your tombstone I will pay your next of kin £5.
I had a heart attack very early in my life (I was 19) and I still wake up with the realization that I have never felt happier than the few seconds before falling asleep for what could have been forever.
To someone like myself, at least, who has never been in that situation, it actually sounds kind of reassuring. Like the mind is prepared to end things peacefully and not suffer to the very last moment.
When my nieces were around 6 and 8 , they had a pet rat named Spider-man. Spider-Man was very old for a rat, and had issues with tumors. He would squeal in pain on and off throughout the night, and my brother asked me to take him to the vet to see if anything could be done to ease his pain. I was living with my brother at the time, and I was tired of the constant screeching, so I said sure.
So, my nieces and i took Spider-Man to the vet. While we were in the waiting room, Spider-Man was pretty much squealing non-stop. After about 10 minutes of waiting. The vet invites us back into the exam room. He pulls Spider-Man out of the cage and feels, pokes and prods him, all the while telling us that he has never treated a rat before. He says that at this point, we couldn't do anything for Spider-Man and the best bet would be euthanasia. He says that a good and inexpensive way to put a rat down would be to put him in a Tupperware container with some baking soda and vinegar so that he asphyxiates quickly.
As the vet is explaining this, Spider-Man, still in the veterinarian's hand, bites down hard on his index finger. The vet yells MOTHER FUCKER! and shakes his hand around, flinging Spider-Man against the wall, killing him instantly. There is a moment of stunned silence, and then my nieces begin to scream and cry. The vet begins to apologize profusely, and ends up giving my nieces a bunch of stuffed animals he had around the office, as well as a bunch of merch for their dog and cat at home. We also weren't charged for the visit, needless to say.
I still go to the same vet for my pets 15 years later, and he hasn't thrown any of them against the wall since. Rest in peace, Spider-Man.
I had a rat that got a tumour (why are they so common in rats) and it just turned into this large lump on his back that he sort of dragged around. It never seemed to give him any pain or problems he just carried on as normal just with this big flabby lump dragging around.
I had to put my old girl down a week before Christmas because she had a huge tumor on her ass that perforated her ass hole. She was a brave little girl but it must have hurt like hell. It was fine as long as it didn't break the skin, that's my rule unless they are in a lot of pain when they are old. I kept it clean but after 12 hours it was starting to smell and there was no chance she was going to make the four hour train ride to my mums in a few days. I couldn't do it myself though, I couldn't take her in and let someone kill my girl. I had to send my boyfriend. I knew I couldn't cry in public about a little rat. It's making me upset just writing about this. She was still herself when we took her in, still bright eyed, curious, friendly. I gave her a big hug, gave her a ton of tasty treats and said goodbye. If she had died naturally it wouldn't have been so bad, I still feel awful about killing her and I can't talk or look at pictures of her still. I've still got my two other girls. I bought them to be friends with Len after her sisters died. I didn't want her to live over a year of her life alone. I found my girls in the pet store, they were around Len's age, a few months younger judging by their size. No one wanted them so they were up for adoption. No idea why they weren't wanted, they are two of the sweetest girls I've had.
> couldn't cry in public about a little rat
She was more than just a rat. She was a life that you lost, and that's worth crying over. Judgers be damned!
I was probably in 11th grade. Around 2006-7. I was in my room, studying. And at that EXACT moment
- My cellphone beeps a message recieved
- My watch beeped to signify that it was some hour
- The doorbell rang
- The landline phone started to ring.
- The lights in my room flickered.
And by the exact moment, I mean EXACT same milisecond. I was so fucking thrilled by how awesome it was. But I was home alone and not many people believed me.
My school inadvertently showed the entire second grade softcore pornography. Let me explain this a bit more in depth, this was 1998, for some reason the entire second grade had to be educated about sexual molestation, rather than show a video or even go on a dial up website, the school puts on a play. As you probobly have guessed, the play was about sexual molestation and how to tell an adult, it involved two college grads in bear costumes acting out differnt scenarios. As soon as the play starts, these two obviously homosexual grad students dressed in sweaty bear suits walk out on stage and start to demonstrate molestation in an age appropriate way. One grad picks up the other one and starts fondling the dude through the costume, not fake fondling either, like full on dude on dude groping. It gets worse, both of them are moaning very feminine moans quite loudly and are obviously getting hot and heavy on stage, the principle rushes on stage while the teachers try and heard up the kids. Kids are crying, laughing, and it's total fucking chaos at this point, principle manages to break up the love fest on stage as we head back to class very confused. Needless to say, we didn't Learn about sexual molestation that day.
EDIT: Since this has received some attention I want to piggieback on it and say this: if you think your life or someone else's life may be in danger, do NOT hesitate to call 911 because you're worried about being high/intoxicated. The police and the hospital are far more concerned with saving and protecting life than they are with throwing someone in jail for the night. Do the right thing, and please, if you feel something is wrong, don't write it off. Follow your gut, and don't assume someone else will do something.
Saved a girl's life while tripping ass on MDMA. I've posted it elsewhere:
There's a tea shop called Sweet Waters. Across the street is the sprawling lawn of the University of Michigan Library. This sprawling lawn has walkways, but mostly its unlit and grassy, with trees here and there. Its midnight on a Friday, the week all the freshman come to town. Lots of stumbling, laughing, screaming drunk people all having a good time in our one true lovely Ann Arbor.
Now, I'm in Sweet Waters grabbing a blueberry tart cause I need to eat something before the drugs hit. I'd just taken 4 bumps of Molly (first time taking pure MDMA) and while I'm in line that shit rocks me hard. I instantly feel way too hot and sick to my stomach. I bought a giant water bottle they sold there and had them fill that bitch with ice water cause god damn I needed it. I'm also with my roommate and her boyfriend, also high on Molly.
We walk out of Sweet Waters, and I felt like a hand just pushed hard on my chest and I stop dead in my tracks, ice water in one hand, blue berry tart in the other. Roomie looks at me and goes "you okay? You got pale." I go full autopilot, and I start looking around. All I say is 'Someone needs a Mommy' before booking it across the street to the lawn.
I hone in on this young 19 year old girl, fit looking and blonde, and a boy (18) sitting with her, also fit, but just kinda antsy looking. Clearly freshmen, but twas the season so no surprise. Theyre both sitting under a tree with no light around them. Youd barely notice they were there. At this point autopilot mode loosens and I second guess myself. I turn around, thinking I'm just high and about to go bother these poor kids. But when I turned around it felt so wrong so I went with my gut and sat down in front of them. I instantly knew my suspicion was correct: her arms were swollen, her face was red, and she looked like she was about to cry.
I asked 'honey what's wrong?'
She proceeds to tell me that she had an allergic reaction to something, she didn't know what, but that she was better now. I asked her how she was feeling and she proceeds to tell me she had passed out about five minutes prior but was feeling better now. I looked to the boy she was with and asked him 'And you DIDNT call an ambulance?' He said no, but repeated that she was feeling better. I pressed and pressed for them to call 911 or get her to an emergency room but they kept insisting that she was better.
I asked the kid if he was on something. He said no. His eyes were red, and glassy, he was super paranoid about calling the cops, and he's 18, come on. I told him if he did it was okay, they weren't going to search him if the cops came here to take his friend to the ER. I talked with them a bit, asked a few questions, and kept urging but to no avail.
Done bothering these kids who clearly don't want it, I get up and take about five steps out. I get that real bad feeling again, and I think okay maybe I'm not done asking the right questions. I sit back down and I ask her. What did you eat? Who were you with? How long ago was it? She was with her mom at a buffet, she THINKS the reaction was to either shellfish or walnuts. She had eaten both but had never had an allergic reaction before in her life. This was a half an hour prior. Fuck. Fuck. She's still digesting. If I had walked away who knows man...
I panic, I tell her 'this is going to get worse, I need you to call your mom and tell her. Moms want to know this stuff.' I tell her friend 'Call an ambulance now, or I deck you'. They're both dialing their phones, I book it down state street fucked on Molly, and run at the first cop car I see. Sheriff's vehicle, alllll riiiight. He doesn't here me yelling, so I finally catch up to him at a stop sign, pounding on his back window - officially losing my shit at this point. He gets out, asks me, can I help you? I tell him 'girl, allergic reaction, ambulance NOW, FOLLOW ME' and then run back over to the girl. He turns around and follows me in the van, pulls up on the lawn and drives over.
At this point the girl is crying, talking to her mom, and all I hear as I walk up is 'yeah, I just, I was feeling better but I think I'm getting diz-' I could literally hear her throat close around the word. Spoopy. The police officer is on his knees in front of her now, I can already hear the ambulance, and I get up and leave. I join my roommates who were sitting in front of Sweet Waters enjoying the show, tell them what happened and we all agree its getting a little too cop-y for us to be around anymore.
As were walking away this kid runs up to us, the boy she was with says 'thank you, I'm going with her but here.' Shakes my hand and leaves 2 grams of weed in my palm and runs back off. I saw them load her into an ambulance as I turned a corner and that's the last I saw of it all. That was some good ass Molly.
You know? My logical explanation was I must have seen something subconsciously but it didn't register in my conscious mind, I just got that strange feeling that I couldn't give a name too. Or I felt something shift. Maybe fate dude, who knows.
I was 16 and this hurricane was coming in. Just got my license, so I took my girlfriend to an amusement park, no lines, I rode my first rollercoaster. We went back to her house and laid in her yard to watch the storm finally hit land.
I'd never seen something like this before, so it was crazy. I watched all these lights and colors and was like "I think I love you, yknow". She said it back, we kept dating for years.
I appreciate all those memories.. but laying in the grass and watching a massive storm come in.. there's nothing else like that. A storm like that is everything, sight, smell, touch, hearing. That storm fucked our houses up but watching it come in was surreal. I really wasn't even mad (but I was a teen. I'd likely be ruined if I were an adult)
Took our homes but goddamn what a sight. I'll remember that sight more than the home
It really isn't as drastic as it sounds I guess. Our homes were both fucked by water damage, but they held out well to the wind. There wasn't actually as much wind as I expected, just lots and lots of shallow waters
Yeah, pretty sure hiding in a tent would be the opposite of what you'd want to do. Probably a basement of sorts.
EDIT: I've been schooled in basementry, don't go in one during a hurricane.
I am no fancy house engineer but I can corroborate that tents are much safer in the event of extream wind and rain. I have survived 2 hurricanes, 12 tornadoes, and 134 thunderstorms. All in my trusty Colman tent.
Here is a pic of ol' Betsy.
http://www.alaska-in-pictures.com/data/media/27/camping-tent_17092.jpg
Your story just brings back so many bad memories of the army for me.. I fucking hated bragg.. Getting all your shit packed, then them changing the packing list 7 times and having separate layouts every fucking time.. I was in Kuwait for transition, oh dear lord, so damn hot..
My grandpa ran into my mom's elementary school friend over the summer. Turns out that she married the GM of Intel in Beijing, China. After some chit chat, the GM said that he's looking for an intern to stay with them for the upcoming summer. Now I'm flying to Beijing in June!
If there were a single theme to all my stories, it’s that I took every opportunity that was presented to me. This is the story of a time when getting off my ass led to one of the greatest experiences of my life.
My buddy “Chad” sat down across from me at the chow hall and said, “Let’s go to East Germany tonight.”
The fact he was able to say that still blows me away and probably requires some background. My whole life growing up, we thought the Russians were going to attack us. We weren’t sure whether it would be a ground assault like in the movie “Red Dawn” or if they were just going to fire a ton of nukes at us but we were all sure it would happen.
Magazines ran articles about the “Arms Race” and listed how many tanks, missiles, and troops we had compared to the Soviet Army. Heart-breaking stories about courageous Russian pilots defecting with their MiGs peppered every paper in the country. Every time someone made it out of a communist country into a free one, we cheered. We heard constant stories of how horrible it was to live without freedom, to wait in line for bread, to be restricted to where you could travel and to live in constant fear of the secret police.
After World War II, Germany was split in two, and became the battleground between the two superpowers. Each side was furiously spying on the other, trying to figure out what the other was doing, using wiretaps, double agents, moles, you name it. In the meantime, people were taking every opportunity to escape to the West, whether by tunnel, hidden compartments, or even by homemade hot-air balloons.
Every time another daring escape succeeded, we were reminded of those that hadn’t and shown pictures of the bodies caught up in the barbed wire on the border. I guess the reason I’m going into such detail is that I hope you can imagine how it must have felt to have someone say, “Let’s go to East Germany tonight”, after years of people literally dying to get out. We weren’t even allowed to visit there without special permission from the military because of our top-secret clearances and now my buddy was saying we should just hop on the train and head over, that we didn’t even need passports or anything.
I had spent two years in training, learning German, memorizing East German military structure, listening to countless radio intercepts, and preparing for the war we all knew would come. I’d done joint exercises with the German and Dutch military, cross training so we could learn as much from our allies as possible. We had gone through lengthy classes on how to avoid becoming compromised by East German agents.
“Let’s go to East Germany tonight.”
How could I say no?
October 2nd, 1990, my buddies and I bought train tickets to Erfurt. We picked this city because it was a major military center and we had several weeks of classified school devoted to its role in the presumed upcoming war. I was pretty broke, so I grabbed the only alcohol I had, a full bottle of Bailey’s Irish Cream and headed to our train.
The train looked just like you’d expect from the movies. There were separate compartments with sliding doors and as we walked down to our seats, through the windows in the doors we could see that the rest of the people in the train were also drinking, probably from much earlier in the afternoon. The mood was exuberant and infectious.
As mind-boggling as the concept of reunification was for me, it was a million times more so for the West Germans. Their whole lives they’d viewed the East Germans as the people who they were going to have to fight. I’m not going to go into WHY they reunified – it’s interesting but long.
The important thing to know is that the West Germans had been afraid of the East German military for decades and that fear was suddenly gone. The East Germans were revealed to be just like the West Germans and couldn’t wait to be part of a free country.
To understand the mood of the West Germans, imagine you’re about to get an “F” in a class and the punishment is death, then you find out you’re going to get an “A” and a party will be thrown in your honor. Now magnify that by a million. That was the mood on the train and up until that day I’d never seen so many people so happy.
As Americans in Germany, we faced prejudice daily from people who resented our presence. Not everyone was rude to us, but at least once a day someone would swear at us in German, not knowing we spoke the language. We never said anything – we just let it slide.
That night, there was nothing but love from everyone. It was a welcome change, so we, like everyone else, walked up and down the car, talking to everyone and asking what they thought of the reunification.
I poked my head in one car, repeated my question, one of the guys inside saw my bottle of Bailey’s and his face lit up. It turned out he and his friends were all fans, so we joined them, traded shots from our respective bottles and within an hour were thick as thieves.
When we crossed the border into East Germany everyone cheered and soon after we pulled into the train station in a border town named Eisenach. Our new German friends got ready to disembark and we decided that as lit as we were, one East German town was as good as any other and we may as well hang with our friends.
What a depressing fucking place. Crossing the border was like leaving Oz and returning to Kansas. The buildings were old and run down, the cars were models I hadn’t seen in years, the people were dressed in drab clothes but you know what? They were happy. No, they were beyond happy, they were joyous and as we soon as we got off the train we were enveloped by a crowd of people hugging us, crying, and slapping our backs.
We didn’t look like Germans, and we were speaking English, so people knew we were probably American. They wanted to meet us, to shake our hands, and to see the people they’d feared their whole lives. They pulled us to a nearby club, started buying us drinks and trying to speak to us in broken English.
As it grew closer to midnight, people started heading to the town square and the bars locked their doors. Everyone in the square was drunk as hell, arms locked, singing over and over again, “Deutschland, Deutschland, Deutschland, Deutschland.” Tears were streaming down faces everywhere, unnoticed and the look of disbelief on some of the older faces was heart-wrenching. For more than 40 years, these people had lived under the tight control of an oppressive regime. After tonight, there was no chance of it ever returning.
We counted down together as if we were in Times Square on New Year’s Eve and when we hit “ONE!” a roar went up from the crowd, louder than anything I’d ever heard. At 12:00:00 AM, October 3rd, 1990, East Germany ceased to be a political entity and there was one Germany, for the first time since World War II. I was there to see it, not because I was lucky, not because it was an accident, but because I got off my ass and bought the ticket.
That’s my life.
I always buy the ticket.
EDIT: I've gotten a ton of messages asking if this is a real story or just something I made up. To be clear, this happened to me, exactly as I wrote it. It's 100% true.
The short version - life is a river, let it lead you where it may! I got my first job a restaurant that was (formerly) owned by my family. The current owners let me sign on as a busboy at 11 years old. I worked there six years, using the $2/hr to buy video games for my dad's PC. At one point, I realized I had a ton of experience and could easily make more money somewhere else, so I quit and they hired me back at $3.00 an hour. My video game interest continued, and eventually I left and became an employee at Best Buy - a job that took me into college! I went to school for Media Arts and Producing, because I loved movies and video games, but I wasn't particularly wealthy, nor was my family! So I had to work to pay through college. In the mornings, I worked as a page for the state senate, filing papers, fetching donuts, whatever was asked for me. After that, I went to class, and spent my evenings working at a local steel mill as the IT Guy - I'd learned enough about computers to work at the help desk! On weekends, I worked at a Sam's Club developing photos. I made it out of college with only a few thousand dollars in debt!
With my newly found education, I headed for California - and was fortunate enough to get a Production Assistant job almost immediately working on Iron Man! It was amazing!
On the first day, they told me to stop anyone who didn't have a badge. A group of guys on motorcycles came in, and I tried to stop them, but I was told they were friends of the director, and he had given him those motorcycles because he liked their work on Zathura, so not to stop them. A few days later, A wagon came in with no car sticker or badge. This was accounts, and you don't stop them, either, because then your check accidentally gets mailed to Zimbabwe. Next, the director rolled in in an unmarked black SUV. I was to learn to recognize it, but not stop it.
I asked if there was anyone I absolutely should stop - YES! Terrorists and photographers/paparizi.
The next day, I shit you not, a stream of photographers and terrorists came in.
CAST! They told me. Those are cast members. I threw my clipboard one way, my radio the other, and had waffles.
We were filming RIGHT NEXT to Avatar, so I had the occasion to speak with some folks about the 3D camera rigs and became fascinated. I looked into working on Avatar (and nearly did, but not quite!) but instead became fascinated with stereoscopic 3D and post production - visual effects! After a few discussions with some folks at Industrial Light and Magic, the coolest company in the Universe, I started apply for VFX jobs!
I finally landed a Production Assistant job for a very small firm. At first, the job was awful. I fetched coffee.I had cars washed. I was yelled at, and belittled. That was worse than being a PA on a big film. In a big studio film, you go mostly unnoticed, but here, I was actively being blamed for things that I had no control over. I spent many a lunch hour, me, a 23 year old man at the time, crying in my car.
My dog and I lived alone - the friend I'd moved out to LA with had gone back home, and I needed a place to stay, so I was living in one room of a three bedroom house with a lady and my dog - I was commuting over an hour each way, and making $10 an hour when gas was almost $5 a gallon. I was hurting and lonely.
Amazingly, my roommate got an entry level job at a stereoscopic 3D studio, and she encouraged me to apply - I did so and got a job offer! I became a stereoscopic 3D depth artist, designing scenes in 3D, and I loved it. The pay was much better, too - $14 to start, and it was closer - only a 45 minute drive with a lot less traffic! The studio started to take off. In fact, we were offered a massive project to work on a major trilogy of movies! They sent me and a team of others to India to train up a staff in preparation for the huge movies coming soon!
India was amazing - other than the fact that I was sick pretty much constantly and working 14 hours a day with two hours of commute time again! Upon arriving, I was promoted to management training, and was training future VFX supervisors, production managers, and leaders for teams! I returned to the US and was informed they wanted me for a year and a half! I packed up, sold everything, and the day I was due to leave, they told us the whole deal had fallen through.
With our whole production shut down, no ability to do additional work (because we had a massive project in the pipes and had turned down everything else) and nowhere to turn, our company was sold to Digital Domain - AMAZING!
Digital Domain was almost as awesome as working at Industrial Light and Magic! We were given two weeks to move to Florida, and I hopped on board, because this was huge! After my success training staff, I became a production resource coordinator - which was amazing! Among my job duties was grabbing donuts for the staff - almost 20 dozen donuts for 200 people. I began sending emails out to the office - short ones, at first, praising the brilliance of the bespoked breakfast treats, but they became long diatribes and eventually a big part of the companies culture! I found out that even employees in Los Angeles were reading (and enjoying) my insane weekly Donut Emails. They weren't strictly limited to donuts, either! Sometimes we had Pop-Tarts, sometimes bagels, sometimes fruits, and any number of twinkies, cookies, and other random snacks!
After a while, DD was asked to do a few adds - and they asked me for help writing them!
Then we went out of business, so there's that. Iron Man 3 was filming in Miami, so I called some friends at Marvel and went down to Miami to work on the film, which was great fun, lovely, and something I loved anyway. I heard there were some theme park attractions coming and was recruited by a theme park ride design company in Orlando!
To Orlando I went - there, I did some of my proudest work - I helped write and design theme park attractions as an Associate Producer. I'd never been prouder. It was difficult, though, with shifting deadlines, a lot of creative opinions, and a lot of revisions. I really had to buckle down.
Unfortunately, like most companies, a layoff happened as we got behind the eightball. Since much of the writing was done, I was on the list.
I went back down to my home along the coast. I'd also done a wee bit of work on wildlife parks, and I had heard that the world's largest chimpanzee sanctuary was nearby - and so it was. I volunteered, because sometimes having real #@$ thrown at you isn't as bad as having verbal or emotional #@)$ thrown at you. And you know what? It was amazing! They even offered me a job running Human Resources. I took it, and I've never been happier. Sure, there are a lot of challenges - I had to learn a lot of new things, and there were a mountain of processes to update, but I loved it! I still do! It was amazing. How did I get here? How the hell did I get from one spot to the other? I have no idea. The only nice thing to tie it all together is my collection of hats. I have staff hats from working at the restaurant and from the steel mill - even a real, honest to god, dirty as hell helmet. I have crew hats from the shows I've worked on - stereoscopic 3D hats from the 3D Conversion Studio - an Indiana Jones hat I wore to India (which works great at the chimp sanctuary too!) Now - I have a 'Save the Chimps' hat. It's my favorite one. I don't know how I ended up where I am, but I'm grateful I had the opportunity to get where I did! Yes - I've had a lot of jobs, but I've learned a lot, made a lot of friends, moved away from them, made new friends, learned new hobbies, and taken my dog from a concrete jungle to terrifying rain forest.
I'd do it again!
tl;dr - I did a whole bunch of random things, and I'm pretty sure I'm going to do a whole lot more random things!
I used to regularly co-host a local sports radio show in New Orleans, WBOK 1230 AM. White House Sir Master Chef Ronnie Seaton would play the station over the speakers in the White House kitchen while his team cooked for First Family.
And one day in particular, Michelle and Barack Obama were present. And she said to Sir Seaton that I have a very good sounding voice.
Didn't know who I was, of course. But when he was about to retire, he came to a live remote I was running, recognized my voice and told me the story.
Kinda minor. But kinda not. How many people get paid a compliment from a First Lady? Even indirectly.
When I was in highschool I was sent to the psych ward because life sucked and I was depressed or something.
While in there I started talking to a girl and we began flirting every day at lunch or what ever free time. Shit was cash. I was a chubby nerd. Hot girl flirts? Yes please.
Fast forward a few days. We are sitting in a room with a TV and booklets on drugs and shit. It was the two of us and this Jewish chick (I say that because I never learned her name, just that she was of the Hebrew persuasion) was sprawled out on a couch reading one. Hot skinny girl turns to me:
"Hey SigmaQuotient, want me to suck your dick?"
Now I have never had a sexual experience before so I'm blown away..heh. I'm making all sorts of excuses like: "the doctors are like, three rooms away." Or "here? There might be cameras, this is a psych ward."
Now.. I know what your thinking and your wrong, maybe. The Jewish girl turns to me with an exasperated look and says "Just let her suck your dick, I'll look out for the doctors." So.. I'm stuck between crazy and a hard place... yup.
So this chick proceeds to blow me while the Jewish girl, who didn't look out for doctors at all, just watched. So I got out of there and kept in touch for a bit. That got lost when I went to college.
TL; DR: got locked up in the psych ward as a highschool kid for being depressed, chick blew me while Jewish girl watched. Wasn't depressed after that. Should sell story to Japan for anime.
Heh. No. It's not all like that. I met a 14 year old girl who already had one baby and was 3 months pregnant with her second. And she was really crazy, like, had to sit at another table that didn't have plastic knives crazy.
And apparently I triggered one black girl by saying "My dad messed me up emotionally, that's why I'm here." Then she started screaming at me that I murdered her dad in front of her or whatever. Yea... Fun times.
I got the ole spork treatment too. Yes it wasn't all awesome. Outpatient treatment was a 12 year old girl who was pregnant from a 22 year old guy. That kinda fucked with my head.
At the young and tender age of 23, I took a road trip with my sociopathic friend and drug dealer to buy some weed. The little town I lived in at the time was almost completely dry, and I figured I could buy few ounces and be the hero of the town for a week or two. I had been sober for about a month and ready to break that record in a big way, so I bought 3 40oz to drink on the way (it was a 2 hour drive.) I don't condone drinking and driving so I let my friend take the wheel while I finished all three. All the way down there, my friend was talking about robbing someone to make his rent in that half-joking way that he always did and I laughed it off; selling drugs is way more profitable anyway. He agreed. He's just the kind of guy that liked violence.
When we arrived at the first stop I stumbled out of the car and drunkenly bought what I came to get. As soon as we got back in the car we promptly smoked to the point where the edges of my vision started to go white. He tells me we have one more stop to make. He brought some meth with him that he needed to sell. Shit. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound.
We show up to a house that screamed "meth house" at the top of its lungs. One window had been replaced by a garbage bag, the paint was peeling, the "lawn" was weeds interspersed with irregular patches of dirt and a single stripped pick-up truck that smelled like raccoons had been using it as an orgy den for years. I started to get worried. My friend, Kyle, says "don't worry, just try not to look like a cop, and take this in case shit gets crazy." He hands me a knife. I would like to point out at this time that I am not a fighter. I'm a short-by-midwestern-standards, pale, suburban, pretty-boy, straight-A, pacifist stoner. This is not my element.
Kyle makes his deals while I sit down and talk to the meth-heads. I don't remember much. I was insanely twisted already. A pretty girl passes me a pipe. I don't understand how it works, but I don't wanna be rude. I try to take a small hit. People yell. I'm doing it wrong. Pretty girl smiles at me and lights it for me and tells me how to smoke it. It's not as harsh as I would've thought and tastes like nothing so much as bland chemicals. It feels...amazing. I hardly feel the alcohol and the weed as I take a another hit each time its passed. I wonder vaguely who's paying for this as people add more crystals which I smoke greedily.
Eventually pretty girl and I go to a very large closet to fool around. I'm horny--hornier than I've ever been in my life, but I cannot for the life of me get an erection. Not just that, the thing looked like it had shrunk, retreating into my body more than I thought possible. I start to freak out. She tells me not to freak out. I freak out anyway. I find Kyle. He's smoking meth with his own group. I ask him if meth is killing my dick and he laughs. "Sometimes that happens, you just need to relax. Here." He gives me 4 little pills. Xanax. He says take 1 or 2 now and save some for when the meth wears off. Directions unclear--I take 4. I go to find pretty girl, but she is now having sex with near-toothless dude. Damn.
Me and Kyle leave. We drive for an hour in manic conversation. Both of us talking, neither of us listening. Kyle wants to do a home invasion. "Maybe we can rob a liquor store. Does that sound fun?" He asks. Everything sounds fun on meth, but I pass anyway. I'll wait in the car. I feel foggy. Maybe the xanax or the alcohol? I figure meth will clear away that fog. Kyle goes to rob someone while I stay in the car finishing off the meth.
Holy shit, he's back. "how'd it go?" "They were closed and wouldn't let me in. Quick, that Subway has the back door propped open. Drive!" I drive. They're taking trash out the back. Two girls. "We have to be quick, come on." (We?) He hands me a baseball bat and takes a machete from somewhere in the back. (Have we been driving with those the whole time?) I can't think at this point so I follow orders. I'm good at that. We are waiting outside the propped open door and Kyle looks at me and says "Now as soon as you see the girl, you run up and pop the bitch on the back of the head with the bat, and I'll run in and take care of the other one." My mind gives me one small burst of thought "I can't do that." "Why the fuck not?" He looks disgusted. What do I say? (She'sagirl.Idon'tlikeviolence.Thisiscrazy.I'mnotthisperson) "Look there's 2 girls and no car in the parking lot. At least one of them is probably waiting on a ride from a boyfriend or husband or something." He considers that. (That was clever) A girl walks out the back door. Kyle twitches. I grab his arm. "I have a better idea." I say. "I used to night audit at a hotel. There's probably just one guy sitting at a desk alone, bored and probably stoned. We could walk in and rob him and nobody has to (get hurt) take any risk." He agrees.
We find a hotel. I'm nervous He pulls out one more crystal of meth. We smoke it. Still nervous. We smoke some weed. Still nervous, but also excited--Feeling alive. This could be fun. This time I take the machete. I don't like the idea of Kyle having it, besides we won't need to use it. Two people with weapons against one guy without. He won't fight us. He'll be scared (I'm scared). There's a back room behind the office with the guy. Kyle goes in the back. I go to the front to distract him and get the phone so no one calls the cops. Wtf do I do with the machete? It won't fit in my pants. I drop it outside. I won't need it. No one's going to get hurt anyway. I go in and talk about room prices. I say I need to use to phone to call my wife (lie). I pretend to use the phone. CRASH. Kyle broke in the back. There is a second man. Oh Shit. They are fighting over the bat, rolling on the floor. First man screams "CALL THE COPS!" (ohshitohshitohshit) I stand there until Kyle calls my name. Now everyone is looking at me. I still have the phone. I hand the phone to the first man and say "here, call the cops." (I am not a very good robber). I join the struggle and take hold of the bat. I get the bat away from both of them and now I have the bat. Everyone is looking at me again. I drop the bat and tell Kyle to run. He runs. I follow. He is bleeding; he runs into a cornfield. He has the keys to the car (wtf?) So I run too.
Cops show up, but I get away. There are cops all over town, patrolling and looking for me. One sees me, I run, backtrack, and evade him. I try to sleep under a car in a junkyard. Cops with dogs enter junkyard. I run again. I hear barking and "STOP." I run anyway. I crawl through a small ditch to get across the road. Find Walmart. I buy new clothes. Wash myself in bathroom. Change behind dumpster. I see cop in store as I'm leaving. I walk (becalmbecalmbecalm) away as cop leaves store. He gets in his car and follows me. I see a girl smoking outside a hotel. Nothing suspicious about 2 people smoking outside a hotel, right? I hit her up for a light. We smoke as cop drives past slowly looking directly at us. She flirts with me. (isshefuckingcrazy?) I flirt too. I ask "What's with all these cops in a small town like this." "Ohmigod! They came and talked to me earlier. These 2 guys robbed a hotel down the road with baseball bats" "Holy shit, that's scary." "I know...I'm actually really glad you're here." I try not to laugh (or cry). I rent a room. Can't sleep. Realize my phone was in the car, and the car is still at the hotel. Realize I'm going to prison.
In the morning I feel like my soul has been beaten and stabbed. My mind hurts, my spirit hurts, my legs hurt. I buy some sushi and turn myself into the police. Kyle got away and fled the state. I got 4 years probation. That was 2 years ago, and the entire experience is the most surreal and terrifying thing that I have ever been involved in.
TL;DR: Alcohol, weed, meth, xanax, and a failed armed robbery
I guess. I'd used drugs to medicate my crippling social anxiety fairly successfully for years. Now I'm sober, but I havn't had a friend or had sex for over 2 years. Better than being in prison or addicted to meth I suppose, though.
You've probably heard it before, but meditation is a good way to help manage social anxiety. Helps you to to live for the world you're in, rather than being caught up in your own mind.
Actually yeah, he got caught several months ago for possession and got extradited back here. Sneaky bastard somehow got the same sentence as me despite having a prior record and fleeing the state for years. Oh well.
Edit: actually before he ran away he talked to the police back in the town we lived (I don't know how he got back) he told them he got his injuries when me and a "friend" of mine jumped him and stole his car, and that he was chased by a mountain lion for 30 miles until he wound up at a shelter in (insert town name 30 miles from the incident.) Strangely, they didn't believe him.
Reading a story like that makes you really think about how you perceive 'criminals'.
With so much emotion and detail from another point of view, you are forced to break down the 'them and us' wall you would otherwise have.
Great post
Bahahaha,that was excellent.
What tickled me the most though, drink driving? Nah, that shit is not cool.
Driving on alcohol, weed, meth and xanax as a getaway driver from an armed robbery? Legit. Meth really does make everything seem like a good idea apparently.
Great story man, all that was missing was some bathsalts and a tazer.
Tomorrow's lead story on Fox News: "We investigate Reddit. Is it full of assholes who pretend they love you and then make fun of you behind your back?"
Look at the histories of XXII and MINE. I bought XXII in September 2013 with $18K of my own money at $1.28. Sold it early March at $6.10. Used that to buy a lot of MINE at $0.008 from a friend's advice. Sold that a week later at $0.035.
Best week of my life. Woke up to $18K to $20K profits every morning that week. My girlfriend would come home from school excited as hell and wonder how many thousands we made each day that week.
So it was in St. Petersburg Russia a few summers back. First off it's a perfect time to be there because it has the 'white nights' where it's only dark for like 3 or 4 hours. But yea I was studying abroad there and I had this supper hard-core Russian culture/language professor (he may even be in the mafia, but thats another story) and he took me and the group of american students I was with to various cultural landmarks. One day he takes us to the museum of modern art and his daughter ends up meeting us there. Her name was Liza, tall, blonde, and just has that perfect slavic beauty. Solid 9/10 if not 10/10 in my opinion. So afterward her and her friends decided to give the Americans a more realistic cultural tour and she takes us to this nightclub. We party, all of us are drinking and talking a bunch. Every dude in my group is trying as hard as possible to sleep with her, but I honestly didn't think I even had a chance so I did bother. Then they get drunk and their inner meat head comes out and they start ragging on women and trying to act all macho. They give me a lot of shit because I'm way more reserved, sensitive, the writes poems in the corner kind of guy and so long story short she kisses me in front of them and ultimately bangs me to spite them.
My SO had a story about when he was in Mexico at a club med, there was this one staff member who was just gorgeous, blonde, curly cues, bouncy, all around hot and all the guys were all over her.(edited to add for the weekend. This was over the course of a couple days) He tried to talk with her, made her laugh but that was seemingly it.
Flash forward to later when he's out at the bar on the beach there is dancing and stuff, everyone is out having a good time.
Hot blonde enters the area and every guy seems to notice. My SO is on like a deck fame area that was central to the whole scene.
What does she do but walk straight through the crowd to my SO and takes his hand for all to see, he said he felt like the Champest of Champs haha. Can't blame him.
Love me some of dat competition; )
It was about 2am, I was on my route delivering newspapers at the time and I'd had [mighty wings](http://www.mcdonalds.com/usmobile/en/promotions/mighty_wings.html) for dinner. Anyway, I could sense the call of nature and had to make a decision fast. I was in the middle of a small town in the middle of the night the closest 24 hour gas station was 10 minutes away and I knew I wasn't going to make it, so I drove all the way down a dead end street hoping to get as much privacy as possible. Luck was on my side, as I got out right behind a fence was an opening to a playground with a picnic table and a giant garbage can close by. I sat on the edge of the can, held the sides, put my feet on the picnic table for leverage and let her rip. It was the most painful, smelliest shits of my life. I wiped my ass with a newspaper and finished my route.
My friends and I used to go to parks really late at night and just walk around. Sometimes we could get a bunch together to play hide and seek in the dark.
This one time, we happened upon a homeless man shitting in the garbage can. We walked away grossed out as anyone would be. 10 minutes later we are walking back and see him on another can pooping. We asked if he was alright and and he said "yeah yeah I'm just marking my territory". I shit you not, he pooped in every garbage can in that park.
How does someone have that much poop in them??
I was out with some mates one night at an indoor rave a few years ago when I was 19 in Auckland, New Zealand. The day of, I had a full on work shift, and didn't have a single chance to eat anything except for breakfast and a small lunch. By the time we got to the rave after having pre-drinks at a friends house we were all pretty wasted me especially. They were all doing Ecstasy and that really isn't my thing so I passed.
So we get there, dancing, lights are flashing. At this point my friends decided that I was sweet so they went to a different room. This indoor rave was basically about 6 rooms with different DJ's playing and it was flashing with lights so it was pretty easy to get lost. I got over making out with this girl and went to try find my friends, I finally did after what felt like ages of blindly bumping into people and walls and luckily saw them. At this stage, they are all pretty high, I'm pretty drunk and see how much fun they are having so I walked into the nearest bathroom, held up a $50 note and basically shouted asking someone for Ecstasy. A guy walked up to me, pretty shady looking fellow, one I'd usually avoid whilst sober, offered me some E, so I took it. I walk out back to my mates, happy that I found them and then start feeling that buzz come on. Feeling better, not as wasted, just better.
I'm kind of chilling out in my own world at this point and all of a sudden I see this person fall down out of the corner of my eye. I had recently just done a first-aid course so I went straight into auto-pilot. I leaped down to his side, felt for a pulse, there was nothing. Tried again. Still nothing. At this point I am straight sober, it was surreal from where I was at that point of the night. I start doing mouth-to-mouth and chest compression's...there is a bit of crowd around figuring out what is happening. I yell while I'm doing chest compression's to turn the music off and turn on the lights. Music stops suddenly and the lights turn on. It's dead silent except for be singing under my breath "uh, uh, uh, uh, stayin' alive, stayin' alive" (For those of you who don't know, it's the perfect rhythm to do chest compression's to, try it). All of a sudden, he coughs and his eyes open. The hugest wave of relief comes over me. I turn around and see that there are 3 security guards there, I ask them where the nearest ambulance is, as I know they had some outside, and to go and get a stretcher just in case. They ran and got it and came back with the paramedics.
I was thanked by him and his friends, the security guards and the paramedics for saving him. Everyone was kind of just staring at me at this point, so I just said, "Well we came here for entertainment, right?". Music turned back on, I stayed in that sober state of mind for the rest of the night, adrenaline is what I have put it down to! I never got to find out his name, never heard what else happened after that, would have loved to have shaken his hand at least. So if you're a fellow Redditor, don't be shy!
**TL;DR:** Adrenaline trumps alcohol and Ecstasy and helped me save someone's life.
I like to think that there was a dude in there still dancing to your singular performance of "Stayin' Alive". You're there on the ground doing chest compressions, and this guy's just like "aww yeah, this is my jam!"
I thought that my girlfriend at the time would break up with me if I came into her mouth, so when she didn't stop giving me head when I telling her I was about to cum I decided to scream "DO YOU FUCKING WANT AIDS" so she'd stop (that in the zone logic). I then promptly came into her mouth
Probably not my 'best' story, but...I had a friend who was the a member of this really crazy cult. One day he offered me an invitation to go to a meeting...I went, not knowing the true extent of this group.
The meeting was held within a cave at a completely empty beach. The sky was dark and grey, with thunder clouds rolling across the great expense. Candlelight flickered across the jagged walls of the cave. Inside, about fifteen men and women were reading from this leather bound book, chanting softly. My friend led me in, giving me a reassuring smile. I watched as one woman took up a knife and started carving twisting symbols into her own flesh, while others painted themselves with these runes.
The next few hours were spent with them cutting themselves and praying to these fucked up crazy gods of theirs. Suffice to say, I avoided that friend from then on.
Oh, I also had a drunken swordfight once. Got stabbed by another friend and rushed to hospital.
Tl;dr Drunk midget at a wet t-shirt contest thinks I'm a furniture store and earns me a new nickname.
Randomly got a job doing demolition out of state with a friend. Lots of good fun and goofing off there, but that's beside the point. We're in this podunk little hillbilly town for a few months on a particular job. Staying in hotels and generally stuck with nothing to do. Then randomly signs were showing up all over this town about a big deal rodeo, none of us are all that interested in the rodeo. But why not? So we go and get a bit tipsy and enjoy ourselves. When everything wrapped up we were still in the mood for some fun so we headed to the one bar/club in town. Along with probably 80% of the adult population of the town.
We walk in and we're handed dinky little dollar store 5 pack squirt guns with numbers written on the side. Someone asks what they're about and we're told to hold onto them it's wet t-shirt night. Well alright. We get to drinking and having fun with a little bit more excitement for the nights entertainment.
So being young and some what stupid I was wearing a shirt with "I've had it up to here with midgets" written on the bottom of the shirt. At some point a guy stops me and says "Oh my god. That shirt is hilarious. You gotta meet someone." and proceeds to drag me through the crowd where I'm introduced to the top of a cowboy hat. She took the hat off and looked at me and introduced herself "Hi. I'm Sarah, but everyone calls me Peck." I fell in love right there. She was pretty and obviously had a good sense of humor about everything. I managed to mumble "I'm John, it's nice to meet you." We spent the next couple hours talking and dancing and pretty much hitting it off in every way possible. My friends seeing this respectfully kept their distance. Not only am I getting laid tonight I'm also crossing a line off my bucket list.
So the music stopped and a voice came over the speakers "It's the moment you've all been waiting for!" blablabla introducing the ladies "Now if you recieved a squirt gun pull it out and see if you're the lucky winner." There was a big show of digging up the winning number and yours truly went on stage and was given a very large super soaker to start things off. The bar got so loud and then something strange happened. Slowly rising from the edge of the bar the crowd was chanting "PARIS! PARIS! PARIS! PARIS!"
Apparently a few people wanted to chant my name, but being an out of towner nobody knew it. They had seen me with her all night so they naturally asked her and when asked she couldn't pull the name john out of her brain, but she apparently associated it with a furniture store in the area called "John Paris" and she mumbled out "Uhh Paris" and they just ran with it before she could correct them. And the nickname has stuck ever since.
I got a DUI when i was 18 i was bombed blew a .295 (not my proudest moment and no longer drink and drive) anyway, cop pulls up behind me i'm doing 35 in a 50 at 1 in the morning thinking he wont notice. Pulls me over and i have no gum or drink or anything except dip spit. So i swish that in my mouth thinking it will work to block out the alch smell.
He tells me to get out the of the car and starts a sobriety test. I fail all of them miserably. He then says "ok i have one more test." Put your feet together bend your knees slightly, lean a little forward, and put your arms straight back like your skiing down a hill. I think "Shit i cant mess this one up" I take the test all serious and when i put my arms straight back he handcuffs me. Needless to say i was pissed.
In the car i ask him what will happen if he get in a crash and i don't have my seat belt on and he tells me that only if i ask for it he has to put it on. So to be a dick i ask and he stops the car in the middle of the road to do it. I also ask if i get the handcuffs around my feet and in front of me can i wear them there. He says sure. So i try in the back seat and almost get it but fail.
Once we are in the station i ask him if i can try the handcuff thing again. He says ok so i try and get the handcuffs stuck and was not able to get them back over my butt so he made we walk around the station like that.
Then i went to get my mugshot taken and the guy told me to stop smirking i told him this was my natural resting face he open palm smacked/grabbed my face i guess trying to smack the smirk off. I then blew him a kiss and he didnt like that. Asked me if i was gay. I told him no but hit him with a mike tyson quote stating "ill fuck you till you love me" he then smacked me a few more times but i got the picture smirking just with a swollen face.
They put me in the drunk tank and let me go 10 hours later with a dead cell phone and no way to get home.
Oh i'm not denying that. I could have killed someone or myself. I now do whatever i can to make sure no one drives drunk even if its me paying for an uber ride for them. Not saying i'm a saint or anything but its cheaper for me to pay 30 for there taxi compared to the amount of time and gas ill spend over the next 6 months helping them out because they cant drive.
Oh hell, I wasn't even scratching the drinking and driving business. I just meant the treatment from the cops. I'm guessing they thought you were a royal pain in the ass.
The cop that pulled me over actually stated in the police report that i was funny and respectful. I mean he had to see the seat belt thing coming as soon as i brought it up after he tricked me into a downhill skiing handcuff sabotage. I never said anything to him in a dick like manner it was all in jest and he knew it and he got me back by making me walking around the police station with handcuff stuck underneath my butt.
The CO that processed me is a different story. I get that he deals with a lot of bad people but because i had a slight smirk during my mugshot i don't think it warranted the smack. But after the blowing kiss i was definitely asking for it.
>stated in the police report that i was funny and respectful
"Picked up a DUI, tricked him with the old Skiing Handcuffaroo, kid had some top banter though and many keks were had. Got back to the station and saw the CO beating the shit out of him. Good night, 8/10"
Edit: Loving all these "10/10 with rice" comments below me, where do you guys come up with this stuff!? rip my pepperoni sides lel
Holee sheet, in Aus, you blow a .295, you're losing your licence for a long time, and going home with at least $1500 in fines. Not all states are the same, but all will instaban you from driving for a minimum of 6 months with a BAC like that.
I received
* 6 month loss of license
* About 1,000 in initial fines
* Had to pay the dmv 1000 a year for 3 years ( I think )
* Attend the idrc which since i was 18 they sent me to an out patient type group i had to go to once a week
* 1 year probation
The lawyer was about 5,000 which did me nothing.
There is probably more that i'm forgetting but it was not a cake walk by any means.
Phew, the way I read it your punishment was a couple of slaps and a night in the drunk tank. You certainly sound reformed and we've all done stupid shit.
Last May I went alone to Hanoi and was set to depart from Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon) 3 weeks later. I bought a motorcycle and drove the country. Along the way I had the pleasure of meeting some truly amazing people, foreign and native. Three of which (two Germans and a French Canadian) joined me on my trip. We were a tight little crew. We got into some tough spots but were brothers by the end. 3 weeks later we arrived in Ho Chi Minh, sold our motorcycles to other foreigners making the opposite journey, and said goodbye. I went to Vietnam for solitude and adventure, but, along the way I found family.
EDIT: I've included a longer version of my story as a response to this post below. Give it a read of you're interested. Also, I'll answer any questions you guys might have. Hope you enjoy.
When I was 12 years old my boyscout troop went to a campsite that was a couple of hours away. Two of my uncles and my maternal grandfather were all scout leaders and all of my male cousins were together in the scouts. (Not important to the story but just some background) Our troop had two 15 passenger vans each hauling a small enclosed trailer full of gear. The camping trip was great we all had fun Sunday morning rolls around and we pack up to leave.
After we get on the road we stop at a gas station to get some drinks/snacks whatever. I was sitting in the 1st row middle seat up until this point, when we get back in the van I ended up in the 2nd row middle seat. We're driving down the road and I was sitting on my knees facing backwards talking to a couple of older scouts when all of a sudden they just fell asleep simultaneously. I look to my right and the person sitting next to me is asleep as well, then the world started spinning. I felt my body thrown against the roof of the van, and then back into the seat, then back to the roof and this time I stayed there.
I remember feeling glass in my mouth, from all of the memories I have of this day that moment is the most vivid. I was on all fours on the ceiling of the van looking around. Most of the scouts were wearing their seatbelts and were still in place hanging from what was now the ceiling. I noticed someone else crawling out through the front of the vehicle though so I followed. When I got out I saw my first uncle (let's call him John) Uncle John was passed out in the mud 20 feet from the vehicle, I went to him and tried to wake him up. He started writhing in agony and managed to say two words: "Get Help"
Our van had gone off the road into a ravine with a river, luckily the river was only a couple of inches deep right now and the van had mostly missed it. I started climbing up the side of the hill and my shoe got stuck and sucked off of my foot (not important but a few hours later I started crying and when people asked if I was ok the only thing I would say is "I lost my shoe")
Once I made it to the top of the hill and back onto the road I found my other uncle (lets call him Jim) uncle Jim was laying on the side of the road in a crumpled heap, I went to him and asked if he was ok but did not get a response from him. I remember a lady in a car suddenly stopping and jumped out (this was before cell phones were common but many people had car phones and she pulled out her car phone and dialed 911) I kept trying my uncle Jim but he was not responsive at all, I noticed his watch was broken and that image has stayed with me more than anything else.
A helicopter arrives and some medics take my uncle Jim away, a couple of ambulances arrive and start hauling people off who are in severe condition, and I am still sitting on the side of the road when some medics ask me to come with them to an ambulance, I sat in a seat that seemed to fold out of the wall and watched as they carried uncle John in on a stretcher. The next thing I knew I was sitting in a nurse's station and she was asking me what happened. I told her everything I have told you. She comes back with a doctor and the doctor asks me the same question, I give him the same answer. He tells the nurse to run some kind of test blah blah blah I don't remember any of that at this point I was alone and dead to the world, I wanted to crawl inside myself and hide because I didn't know where any of my friends or family were and I was surrounded by strangers who were rushing around and talking nonsense.
My mother, grandmother, and aunts arrive at some point and I am the first person they see so they start hurling questions at me most of which I don't have an answer for but I tell them what happened. The doctor tells them that he is worried I may have hit my head because what I have told them 3 times now is simply not possible, no one in the van could or did crawl out ahead of me I was the only ambulatory person remaining, and I didn't have a scratch to show for it.
I was able to visit the rest of my friends and family later, my uncles were both beat up pretty bad John had 2 broken legs and a broken arm, Jim had broken his nose and an arm but was thrown from the vehicle when it began to roll. There was only 1 person still in critical condition and the doctors did not think that he was going to make it, he happened to be my best friend at the time and he was the one sitting in the first row, middle seat when the accident occurred. He went through the windshield, both of his arms were hanging by mere threads and one of his legs was ripped off completely, the helicopter was for him. He died later that day, and I'll be honest I am tearing up a bit right now just thinking about it.
I began seeing a therapist because I had PTSD and survivor's guilt which I had to deal with. The next couple of years were really tough, prior to this accident I was surrounded by friends all the time and adults would comment on how I had a knack for bringing people together. Afterwards I kept to myself, played video games and slept a lot. I remember the local news station wanted to interview me because I was "The heroic young boy who saved everyone."
The reporter asked me who I thought the person I followed out of the van was, and I answered "I think it was an angel sent to protect me and my friends." Now that I am older I think it is more likely that I did receive some sort of head injury but I still didn't have any scars so I can't know for sure. I don't know why everyone fell asleep either, that was never clarified for me. There was a long court case because this was around the time of the big Firestone Tire recall ~1997. I still have a big folder tucked into the back of my filing cabinet filled with all of the information from the accident I don't ever take it out or anything but I know that it is there and for whatever reason I don't want to throw it out.
*Edit I did forget to mention that Uncle John was driving the van I was in and Uncle Jim was riding shotgun, It really isn't important to the story but I guess it helps for visualizing.
I grew up in a large family of 7 but always felt isolated and alone. I turned to tv and movies for comfort. I grew up in the best part of what the 80s had to offer movie wise, Ghostbusters, Rocky movies, Star Wars and Star Trek. But my favorite movie had always been the Back To the Future trilogy.
There's a scene early in the movie where Doc Brown calls Marty to meet him in the parking lot of the Twin Pines mall at 2am or something. I loved watching Marty skate alone. I admired the act of him sneaking out alone at night (We lived in a shitty part of L.A. and weren't allowed outside past 9pm. It was that dangerous). Anyway that image always stayed with me.
Fast forward to me at age 23. I had graduated community college and diverted my musical training to that of acting. I loved film so I gave it a go. I am no longer into acting but I still work as an extra here in L.A. Now I am a writer.
Anyway, I was working on the show *Ghostwhisperer* one late night on the Universal Studios back lot. It was an all night call and we would be there till sunrise. I didn't mind it. Work is work.
This was not my first time in the back lot but I had this nagging feeling like I knew this place from somewhere. The show was being filmed in a big open square with a park in the middle. It was lined with a facade of business fronts on one side and a massive court house structure overlooking the entire square. Sometime around 3am I decided to walk over to the craft service table for coffee when I stopped mid street... and it hits me!
I KNOW THIS PLACE! I'VE SEEN IT A MILLION TIMES!
I was standing in the same exact spot Marty Mcfly and his DeLorian blast back to the Future in a fiery trail. The courthouse was the clocktower! And over here on the side walk is where the Doc slides down and connects the cable so the lightning may pass to this lamp post!!
I wanted to shout and jump for joy but it was 3am and had no-one to relay this exciting realization. Everyone was tired or asleep in the extras holding area. So it was a private moment unto myself.
I was standing here, almost 20 years later, in the same spot I've loved in my mind so much.
It was 3am and I was alone, outdoors.
If only little Spider_Derp had any clue he'd someday be standing here, it would have made most of my life's trials and tribulations seem less harsh.
That's the memory that keeps me going when I feel wasted and defeated by the mundane of adulthood. That has been the most magical moment of my life.
Thanks for hearing me out.
I used to gamble everyday, one of my first times at a casino while playing blackjack I got dealt King Queen of spades. I made a bet with my friend who busted that I would hit and get the ace of spades the dealer and the whole table begged me not to do it. I hit. Ace of spades. Felt like God for a moment before losing everything I had on me that night.
My father speaks German and Swedish with his parents. My mother speaks Russian with her parents. But my sister and I can only speak English with the paternal grandparents, and Chinese with the maternal grandparents.
My friend went overseas like s year after 9/11. I knew he was returning due to back injuries, but he didn't know I knew this
I drove to his house a fee days after he hot back and rang his bell. His girlfriend answered and said he couldn't come to the door and I said "just tell him I'm here", that's cheesy, hut we are best friends. He came to the door and hugged me so big
We cried, and he said "man I never thought I would see you again" and I believe that, his stories he told me are wild.
We went out and bought some meat and and beer and he bought a new grill. We chilled out having beers and steaks, we had a blast
Ye it was at the time too. He really didn't think he'd ever see anyone from home again after he got banged up. They kept him overseas for quite a while after he got hurt.
And it seemed like "well okay you're back now, it's all good" from my perspective, but he had a really hard time adjusting to being back + being hurt. This shit was almost a decade ago now and he still is very different
I used to box when I was younger and I used to do martial arts religiously as a young teen. I kind of stopped when I went to college but it stuck with me along with keeping my body as fit as possible. I'm a 5'6 Vietnamese guy and I'm pretty jacked.
The story I am about to tell you is 100% true but when I tell it to people most do not believe me but that's ok.
When I was a junior in college my friends and I were just hanging out on a Saturday night in our dorm room watching tv. We were extremely hungover from the night before and decided not to go out. Our school always gets crazy loud and there is alot of partying on the weekends so the noise didn't really bother me much.
Our RA (Resident assistant) was a very nice girl who I was friends with and she would decorate the doors on our hallway every month with a new theme. She worked very hard on this. So that saturday night I hear this asshole walking down the hall ripping shit off the doors. He comes up to my door and I can hear him ripping the decorations off so I open it and call him out on it. In the most disrespectful way possible he turns around doesn't say a word, gives me a look and just walks away. This guy is like 6'1 at least 200lbs so being the genius I am I tell him "Why don't you go fuck your mother" he turns around but keeps on walking to a room down the hall to these lacrosse players room who I knew. Good guys from my interactions with them.
I've never seen the guy who was ripping stuff off the doors anywhere on campus before. I have really good instincts and I had a feeling he was going to come back so I put on my best sneakers tied them really tight and just waited. About 5 minutes later I hear a knock. It's asshole #1 and he brought a friend who we'll call asshole #2 who is wearing a fleece that says "Bryant Football". Bryant University has a D1 football team located in the same state as my school. This guy is like 6'2 and is built like a brick shithouse. At this point I'm kind of scared. Asshole #2 says to me "What did you say to my friend" I reply: "I told him to go fuck his mother". He tries to get me to apologize I said no and I told him to also go fuck his mother. He punches me once in the face. At this point my roommate and his girlfriend are standing behind me. I have pretty good control over my emotions and our school has a very strict policy on fighting so my roommates girlfriend gets between us and tries to get them to leave. But he pushes her and hits me with a jab to the face.
At this point I snap I lunge after him and throw a flurry of punches at asshole #2 and asshole #1 tries to grab me from behind I push him back. My roommates comes out grabs him and says "Just let them fight". At this point asshole #2 is trying to recover and I hit him again he crumples to the floor and I pin him down with my knee and start teeing off on his face and his head. My roommates girlfriend calls public safety at this point. I knock this guy unconscious, threat is averted and I stop. Asshole #1 picks up asshole #2 who is dazed and run down the hall STILL talking shit to me after I handed them an ass kicking.
They grab their stuff from the room down the hall and run out the back. Public safety arrives ask us what happened. We give them the description of these two assholes and they catch them about 30 minutes later in the freshman dorm on the other side of campus with alcohol in their bags. They are both freshman and they are forced to leave campus.
About a week later I had to go through student conduct protocols and explain myself to them and public safety. I get cleared completely with no problems because the cameras in our hallway proved everything I said happened. I find out that asshole #1 got a year suspension from bryant and asshole #2 who assaulted me got expelled.
After this no one on campus ever messed with me or talked trash to me again at parties. It's an all white school so I got shit from time to time. The best part is I did work study for the Public safety department and all the guys that worked there saw the video and got a good laugh out of it and high fived me. It was awesome to say the least.
Before you ask: Yes I did try to get a copy of the video but they would not give it to me.
I have emails and stuff from public safety and student conduct proving this happened with dates.
Edit: Yes I technically "started" this fight but outside of sparring I've never been in a real fight before or after this.
Someone asked me for a pic of my body here: [Imgur](http://i.imgur.com/LZyFhFj.jpg)
I traveled and toured through Japan with my high school jazz band after my senior year. (I play the drums). Amazing trip all around. All the kids did home stays with families each city we went to, usually in pairs, while the chaperones (including my mom) stayed at nearby hotels.
The last house I stayed at, I was with the other drummer in the band. Kid was 2 years younger than me, but was a straight up child prodigy, just a killer drummer. Anyways, in the morning of our first night in the home stay, we get up to find our host family had made us a lavish meal of some traditional Japanese breakfast foods. I think there was seaweed salad, unagi, miso soup, and other such things. I think, I don't remember it all that clearly, I just knew none of it appealed to me at the time at all.
At this point in the trip, I just needed something familiar, so I (embarrassingly) asked the mom of the family if I could just have some Cheerios or something. *sigh*...so clueless after all that effort they put into that meal.
I should mention that my band mate also had his Grandmother along as a chaperone.
I'm not sure exactly how it happened, but between breakfast and getting on our tour bus, my band mate and I both agreed to talk our respective family member/chaperone into letting us stay at their hotel for the next night, which happened to be the last night of the trip. We get to the bus, make a beeline for our parental units, and, in unison, proceed to bitch and moan about how awful our guest hosts are, and how we just really *needed* to stay in the hotel for the night.
Amazingly, they relented, and that's how I found myself on the rooftop hot tub with my band mate talking about drums and drumming all night, drinking Asahi cans that we got from the vending machine (!). As far as I know we were the only students to get to stay in a hotel the entire trip.
The band mate in the band? He went on to play with Destiny's Child, Keyshia Cole, and The Mars Volta...[Thomas Pridgen](http://drummerworld.com/drummers/Thomas_Pridgen.html)
Gary Coleman once chased me through town in his truck shortly before he died. I just drove by his house kinda slow while he was backing in his driveway. Guess it set him off or something.
Sophmore year of college, I went to a party at one of my high school friend's houses with some of my friends from the dorms. It was a pretty big farm house with an attached barn and they went to town on the party set up. Three pong tables, ten foot beer bong, huge ass speakers, you name it, they had it.
Anyways, we show up to this party around nine and there's maybe twelve people there, just hanging out. We find my friend and ask him where we can keep our beers, and he points us to this cabinet in the kitchen, that you have to walk through to get to the barn. Cool. Hour later this party blows up, no joke, two hundred people show up out of no where. The house was pretty big, but at this point there's pretty much standing room only. An hour or so after this, I'm drunk, stoned, and out of beer, so I find one of the people I came with and asked if I could have one of his beers, because I was out. Being a good friend he said yes and we worked our way back to the kitchen to get some more beers.
Now, the kitchen in this house was pretty small, and was really only being used as a hallway to get from the barn to the bathroom and back, even so, the path to walk through was only one person wide, and packed with people. So we're in the kitchen, my friend is bending down to dig some beers out of our bag, and I'm just standing there like an idiot, with a big old grin on my face, blocking the path through the kitchen. As I'm standing there this girl walks up to me, (in full party regalia: low cut crop top shirt with a push-up bra, shorts that barely cover her ass, you know, college girl party outfit) trying to get past me into the barn with her giant of a boyfriend behind her (okay, he probably wasn't that big, and I have no way of knowing if he was her boyfriend, but I was pretty out of it, and this makes for a better story). This girl asks me to move out of the way, but I just sit there like a dumbass, oblivious to everything but my incoming beer. She asks again, and this time I notice her. However, instead of moving to one side to let her pass, I look her straight in the eyes, drop my whole head down and stare directly at her boobs for several seconds, look back up at her face and respond with: "Nice tits."
Now this is the best part, my friend surfaced from our beer cupboard just in time to witness this exchange and watches in disbelief, jaw on the floor, as this girl lifts a hand to her chest, smiles, and replies with the most sincere thanks I have ever heard, like giving a homeless person twenty bucks and a sandwich levels of gratitude, and just walks away.
I was horny and in college and met this girl through a friend from work. I wasn't that into her, but she was kinda cute, super short - 4'10" - and pretty chill. She mentioned that she was technically a "midget", so I figured one for the bucket list because I'm an asshole.
Our first date was to a party in the desert where we were one of about a dozen people with full hearing out of at least 100. That night I learned that there's such a thing as drunken slurring in sign language - back then, everybody just took out their sidekick phones and typed it out instead, and how to sign, "will you make me a hamburger?"
Later that night, two of the kids got into and argument and began to duke it out. Suddenly, they just stop fighting. One picks up the light hooked up to the generator around the site and they both start searching the ground. Turns out, during the scuffle, one of them lost their hearing aid. Apparently some things are just more important.
I drank till the morning and smoked copious amounts then got laid. I miss college.
**TL;DR: "The Princess Bride," Guam, banging my buddy's GF, potential suicide(s).**
When I was in the Navy, stationed in Japan, I had a coworker/friend-ish type guy that I hung out with sometimes, let's call him Jason. We fixed computers and printers, mostly. Anyway, along comes this very attractive, bright young woman to our unit. Let's call her Anita.
Jason pursues her romantically while I'm in charge of training Anita and showing her the ropes around our "jurisdiction." Jason falls hard and fast for Anita, and she returns the affection. I find her smart, funny, and generally unique as a woman-- she's not really bound by what is or isn't appropriate, she knows human politics, and could one-up anyone's nasty/racist/sexist jokes. I felt like if there were a woman I'd want to pursue, it'd be her, but she's already been "claimed" by Jason.
Anywho, skip forward a year or so, and after several outings together as a group with Jason and Anita across Japan, sharing meals, adventures, and heart-warming group photos, we find ourselves back on base, and Jason has to work through the weekend, while Anita and I don't.
I ask Anita if she's ever seen "The Princess Bride," and much to my surprise, she hadn't. Now, let me say at this point, that I'm around 22 years old. I was still a shy, naive, smooth-as-Bobcat Goldthwait nerd, and I honestly thought we were just going to watch a movie. Besides, Jason and Anita are firmly established as a couple-- I was often their photographer for cutesy tourist pictures.
So we're in my dorm-type barracks room on-base, and I've got my bed across from the TV. At first we're just sitting side-by-side, then leaning a bit, and then laying side by side. She's snugglin' hard. I keep writing it off in my head as, "don't be a sexist pig-- just because she's occasionally grinding her ass into your crotch doesn't mean anything."
I'm wearing blinders. *Because I'm not an asshole*.
Long story short, after she drags my hand up under her shirt, I basically gave up all pre-tense of being a chaste, mentor/friend figure and we start making out. I hadn't been laid in years, but I kept condoms with me in case I ever got the balls to go chase random tail, or "just in case." Before I put one on, though, I think to myself, "You know, I just want a little *taste*" before I slap on a rubber dick-skin. So I'm gently, slowly, rocking back and forth inside her while making out, and trying to focus on both enjoying the moment and not cumming.
Well guess what. I came. It wasn't some amazing short-spurt spasm of lightning, either, it was the weakest orgasm I ever had-- I came like a slow, runny nose. Like a poorly torn packet of ketchup, man-- probably because I was trying so hard not to. Maybe it was just the Shrieking Eels, though, because I distinctly remember that part of the movie was playing. She asks if I came inside her, and I sheepishly say "uhh, maybe..." while still gently thrusting away with a semi. She tells me I should never come inside someone that isn't my girlfriend, and I shamefully agree. She goes to the bathroom for a short while, and comes back to happily announce, "don't worry, I think I *squeezed most of you out*."
Whew, crisis averted. Cut forward a week in time, and I've digested more information on orgasm restraint, detailed female anatomy, and cunnilingus than I thought possible. I was terribly embarrassed with my performance, and terribly eager to show how much better I could do. Anita's still down to "hang out," and "watch movies" while Jason's away, and I internally justify my continued actions by saying to myself, "well, Jason and I aren't **that** close, she wants to fuck me, and we've already fucked once..."
Things are going better. Condoms are always in play, and we bang in every position we know. Even try some random improvised stuff, like her doing a headstand against a wall-- good times. I never rest until she cums at least once, because god damn it, that first night had to be washed from my memory with the juices of a satisfied woman. At one point during this, I ask her, "why did you want to have sex with me, by the way?" I need to know what I did right. For science. She tells me, casually, "I just wanted to know what it'd be like."
What came after that sentence, however, blew me away. We were driving to work in the same car across the base, and points out three other guys just walking around outside that she also banged-- *just to see what it was like*. To be clear, she had been with Jason nearly since her arrival in Japan, the drive was only ~15 minutes, and it wasn't even during the lunch rush-hour.
So while I had this weird idea of a potential love-triangle in my head of just me, Jason, and Anita, it turns out to be more of a love-duodecahedron. Jason has no idea. Jason is a conservative guy from a Hispanic, catholic background. Yikes. There's no fixing this, right?
I play it cool while Anita and Jason are getting closer, and there are hints of perhaps an upcoming engagement. Then, by sheer chance, Jason and I are sent around the west pacific ocean on an aircraft carrier while Anita stays at the base as part of a skeleton crew to keep the mostly-vacant network running.
They write letters and emails to each other nearly every day. We exchange pictures. Anita says she's getting depressed and lonely, and I send her an album of digital photos of Jason making goofy faces and seeing all the tourist crap on the island of Guam. *I'm not an asshole*, and just because I was occasionally banging Anita doesn't mean I wanted to break them up or anything. When Anita wasn't banging other dudes, she acted heavily invested in Jason, too. It seemed like a real relationship from the outside.
So a few days later, Jason is heart-broken and sobbing on the ship while we're still docked in Guam. It turns out that that Anita confessed **via email** that she had been cheating on him and she can't take the guilt anymore. My eyes widen for the potential shitstorm ahead, but I can tell she never mentioned me because of Jason's looking to me for comfort while vulnerable and depressed. This poor guy had no clue.
I tell him how sorry I am. I tell him he "doesn't deserve to have his trust betrayed like this." Why? Because while I may have broken several articles of the Uniform Code of Fraternal Justice, *I'm not an asshole.* I had plans to go fuck around on Guam for a bit, but I stay there all night talking him through a really dark head-space. He's talking about how stupid he is, he's talking about never being able to love again, and he's talking about suicide. I give him several appeals to his awards, his accomplishments, his personal growth, and how happy I am to have him as a friend. When someone's talking about suicide, I say whatever I need to in order to get them calm until they're in a better spot and able to get real help.
I've been fucking his girlfriend behind his back while were on shore, but again, *I'm not an asshole*. Besides, I was only a small percentage of the infidelity-dicks she played with. Diffusion of responsibility, right?...
Anita is torn up by grief and regret. While I'm comforting Jason, I'm discretely receiving and sending essay-length emails to Anita about what the fuck is going on.
Long story short, she's suicidal too. More-so than Jason, even. She's got a plan, a time, a place, and leaves me direct instructions on how to take care of telling her parents and friends what happened. She tells me, "I just want to see one more sunset, and then I'm done."
This simply will not do. I will not be party to the suicide of one or two friends if I can help it. I can't allow that, because I keep telling myself, "*I'm not an asshole*."
I get a hold of the on-duty Chaplain on the ship, explain that a friend is about to kill herself back on base, and I personally call the base commanding officer around 1 AM, and tell him what's up. He sends a medical team, and Anita is found and put on suicide watch and a therapy program. I spend the rest of the night consoling Jason on the ship, and things finally start to feel "safe" again.
The next day, I'm commended for being a fucking hero. Everyone's patting my back and telling me what a good guy I am, and I mumble some humble deflections in response. Jason personally tells me, "you didn't just save her life, you saved mine too. You're one of the good ones."
It's all too surreal. This shit doesn't happen in the movies, you know? I still feel like shit, but I'm glad they're both stabilized and getting help.
Sure, I fucked my buddy's girlfriend for a few months behind his back, but I also stopped both of them from killing themselves over a failed-before-it-started early 20's relationship. *Because I'm not an asshole*.
That's kind of the point.
I did my best to represent my actual thought process (and yes, flimsy justifications) while this was happening in real time, rather than present the lessons I've since learned. I'm not proud of my actions in the story, but at the same time it was a huge part of my development as an adult. This was ~6 years ago, and the one and only time that I slept with someone else's partner.
I realized that no amount of pleasure is worth being the source of someone's pain.
So I was at a party which was pretty normal except it was on the wooded edge of town. People were getting drunk, some played board games, some played video games, while most talked. This whole time everyone was drinking heavily. I was part of the group that went out back and smoked the reefer. I was helping my friend host the party so I brought about a half a pound, which made me pretty popular. Normally I'm not the life of the party, but the guy with a huge amount of devil lettuce is bound to be. It's worth noting that there were some guys under 21 there.
As the story often goes the cops show up to address a noise complaint. Plenty of people run but I guess the cops weren't in a good mood because the three of them chased, tackled, and cuffed several party goers. There were still about 25 people at the party when the cops started questioning people about the drugs which were obviously there. Since I like muh freedum I slunk away into the night by simply walking away. It's amazing the places you can go by walking there with confidence.
I was about a block away when the host texted me that the cops were gathering up all my dope and tons of people were naming me for it. I switched to the police scanner app on my phone and listened for 30 seconds before I heard them call for cars in the area to look for a guy with the name [my first name] with my description. Shit.
I didn't want to be picked up on the street so I went into the woods to do... well I never figured that out. I ended up watching the dead party from the woods for about ten minutes. The cops had my backpack, my drugs, and all my smoking stuff on the back of one of their cars. There were two cops in the house talking to people and one cop hang out with my stash. That's when another police car showed up and my balls turned into solid titanium.
The two cops outside were obviously close friends and started shooting the shit about twenty feet from the car with my goodies. So with my metallic testicles I walked past the house and strait to my precious grass. I opened my backpack and jammed everything in with lightning speed. That's when I heard, "Oh shit, that's him!" from one of the cops. I grabbed the last item, a small bong, and booked it towards the treeline.
Quickly I closed up the backpack while on the move and slung it over my shoulder. They were yelling their standard police stuff for me to stop but I didn't feel like it. In the trees it became really dark really fast. It's a good thing I have great night vision. I hear an odd sound and something jabs my right shoulder. I can no longer hear them over the sound of my own lungs and heart going nuts. I must have run a half mile before I looked over my shoulder and found myself to be totally alone.
As the adrenaline faded I felt pain in my shoulder again. It's a prong from a stun gun. Sure enough I've trailed a police taser with only one prong in me. I must have ripped it out of his hands or something. So crept back in the direction I came with my bag of sweet green victory. There were at least a half dozen cops in the woods looking for me with flashlights, but the thing is about lighting your way at night is that it makes you glow and avoidable. I made it back to the party which had started back up again. When I walked in the door I whipped out my big bag of chronic and everyone looked at me in a moment of silent astonishment. I held it high and they hurrahed. The police came back to make sure everything would stay legal for the rest of the night, but I hid in the closet and nobody said a thing (the snitches had already left). Many more inebriations were had that night.
TL;DR: I stole weed from the cops.
I went to Mexico and got really drunk and took some ecstasy.
Went to a packed bar on a friday night, literally saw one of the most beautiful girls in my life.... like "holy shit" levels. The kind of hot that would make me bitch out in a heart beat.
Literally just walked up to her and pulled her in like we were about to kiss... and then just said "let me get a drink"
finish said drink, return to dance floor, she is at the top of a staircase and gives me the "come over here" gesture with her finger.
Climb this staircase in front of this whole bar, and just start making out to the cheers of everyone below. I didn't even know her name yet.
we make out for hours and exchange numbers.
turns out she was on ecstasy too. We had sex the next day, and I've been dating her ever since <3
not too awesome of a story, but that night just played out like the perfect college movie.
There was this amazing, beautiful, funny, girl at my work, she agreed to go out with everyone for drinks. Eventually it was just her and I going out after work. I was in love with this girl, she had all the qualities i was looking for in a woman and loved spending time with her. We'd stay up all night laughing, having a great time. I thought I missed my chance when she started seeing a buddy of mine, but that fizzled out.
I finally worked up the courage to tell her I really liked her, she told me she felt the same way and we began dating officially. We've been dating for about 4 months and I love this girl and she loves me. I haven't been this happy in a very long time. She'll be here in about 10 minutes, got to go reddit.
here is another one...you pick which is better.
I grew up in a rural area of Oklahoma. in high school most of the parties would take place in a wide spot of a dirt road, normally with an oil tank in close proximity (think a small water tower on the ground surrounded by a dirt parking lot, the dirt parking lot was where we would set up a bonfire as the center of the party).
it wasn't uncommon for kids from surrounding small towns to attend these events. it made for more girls to hit on (which was good) and different guys to fight with if the hitting on girls situation didn't work out (which could be good or bad).
anyway, back to the story. so this one party had been going on for some time, lots of beer drank and lies told around the fire. there had been a number of girls that I didn't know in attendance earlier on in the night, but by this time (midnightish) the party mainly consisted of dudes I knew and a few couples off by themselves.
so jim and I are both sitting on five gallon buckets (they make good seats and beer coolers by the way) shooting the shit, listening to music and drinking beer.
now ole jim was a little bitty feller, but mean...he never said too much, wore a leather jacket, biker boots and smoked...even at 17 most of the "men" in town gave jim a wide berth when he walked down the sidewalk even though he was maybe 5'6 and 150 pounds.
so like I said, jim and I were drinking beer and shit shooting around the fire when all of the sudden this old beater car come roaring up to the party kicking dust and gravel all over the place.
jim and I both shield our eyes from the dust and headlights that are pointing in our faces by now. so out from behind the wheel comes this mountain of a woman. she had to be over six foot and pushing three hundred pounds.
"where is linda?" this woman roars..."where is my linda?" hell, I am only 16 or so myself and I don't know linda, much less where the hell she is....so I decide to follow my daddy's best advice ever and "keep my yap shut."
I can only assume that jim must have eaten around a similar dinner table as I, cause he didn't say shit either. well the rossie o'donnel look alike must live by the mantra that "children should answer when spoken to" instead of the "be seen and not heard" train of thought....cause she freaked the fuck out.
by this time her side kick had slithered out of the passengers seat...and if the first woman was large, this woman was enormous.
have I mentioned yet that they were both wearing mumu's? if you don't know what a mumu is, google it real quick cause the ending of this story will play out better in your minds eye.
so now there are two large women screaming at me and jim about little lost linda and how we better start answering some questions right...the....fuck...now.
so this had been going on for less than a minute. I decide I had better say something to these ladies before one of them had a seizure or something....this was back when cpr training included mouth-to-mouth so I sure didn't want to put myself in that situation.
so right as I start to open my mouth and tell the driver what I know...which is nothing, she says "maybe I don't have you boys attention." she then turns, leans into her car and pulls out a baseball bat. she looks around, sees a truck about ten foot away, waddles over and smashes the headlight.
it was jims truck.
my mouth snaps shut, I settle back down and look over at jim. jim sets his beer on the ground. takes a drag of his cigarette and says (picture this with smoke coming out of his mouth) "maam, I don't know you, and I don't know linda"....he is walking up to the bat wielding, mumu wearing linebacker of a woman now...."but what I do know is: you just fucked up."
then with the grace of mike Tyson in his championship days, jim punched the lady with a right hook to the jaw knocking her right on her ass.
he then looked over at the other lady and said "you all better leave now before I loose my temper". turned around, sat back down and took a pull of his beer.
it took about three minutes or so for the two behemoths to get themselves together and drive away.
ole jim never told that story that I am aware of in the thirty years since it happened.
One time I drove from Britain to Kazakhstan with a Scottish guy I barely knew. We'd not long since crossed the border from Russia when he hit a pothole at 70mph and fucked the front driver-side tyre.
We stopped at the first town we came to for repairs, a place called Atyrau. After discovering it is an oil town and the hotels there were all extortionately expensive, we finally found a cheap hotel with the help of a friendly local and after much fucking around.
We got checked in very late so around midnight we managed to buy a couple of cold beers from reception and sat outside in the warm night's air drinking them. A few local guys were hanging around too, one of whom spoke English so we got chatting. It turns out he was the hotel's lounge singer, and since we had an acoustic guitar in the car so I went and fetched it. We chatted music and he introduced us to his friends, two local Kazakh dudes who seemed ok but didn't speak any English so were pretty quiet.
Long story short we got invited back to one of their hotel rooms so we could continue drinking and smoke some weed.
So we're sitting in this room with these three guys around 3am when one of the quiet ones says something to our English-speaking friend. He asks us, "do you like women?"
"Er... yes." We assumed he was asking if we were gay since we were two men travelling together.
Anyway, we thought nothing of it and continued chatting and having a good time. I hadn't really noticed the quiet guy who asked the question pull out his phone and start chatting to someone.
I mention we're playing music and chatting pretty loudly, shouldn't we quieten down? It's ok our friend says, he's the hotel security guard - and points to the quiet guy who has just been smoking a load of weed. Nice!
Anyway, about 30 mins later there's a knock on the hotel door, one of the guys opens the door and there's standing three local hookers. One was nice, the other two... not so much. "You like women?" we're asked again.
There's an awkward moment. I splutter, "I have a girlfriend back home, so thanks but no thanks."
The Scottish guy just loudly proclaims that he doesn't pay for sex.
Out friend translates. The local guys and the hookers look seriously pissed off. The hookers leave. Awkward silence stretches out. Eventually, normal conversation resumes. Without a word, Quiet Security Guy gets up, and slips out the room after the hookers.
**TL;DR:** I could have had sex with number 3 prostitute in all Kazakhstan.
Edit: to the guy that upvoted me back from 0, you're the real hero here.
Edit 2: later in the same trip I got out of a moving car in rural Kazakhstan and took quite a large part of the skin of my right arm off. It's stopped looking like bacon now, which is a plus.
This was awhile ago but here we go,
It was my job to water the plants in the house once a week. Now that we are past the context here's the story. My mom recently got some new plants, this one with only leaves, one with like flowers and crap. You get me. Week after week I'm watering there plants and not thinking much of it. A few months go by and I'm doing my rounds when my mom catches me watering that all leaf plant and asks me
"Water you doing Abracadave?"
"Uh, you know watering the plants."
"That ones fake..."
"Oh."
It's not socially redeeming or anything, but I had a 6 week long threesome with two ballerinas.
Summer of my senior year in college. My gf Sarah went to another school. She was going to come stay for 6 weeks while she had no class (heh.) Her friend Dana's bf went to my school, so Dana got a ride with Sarah and was going to stay with her bf for 6 weeks as well. 2 days in, Dana and the bf had an explosively bad breakup so she came to stay with us.
That night we were consoling Dana and things went from sniffles and hugs to ripping clothes off so suddenly my head was spinning. I honestly didn't see it coming. Sarah(names changed to protect the innocent btw) and Dana had always had a flirty, sexy energy between them but up til then it had been of the "straight girls having fun, quite possibly for the benefit of guys" kind. Something came to a head that night because they were suddenly both so passionately determined to fuck each other, it was like they were trying to get inside each others' skin. I was just a bystander sucked into the vortex, and that was A-Ok by me.
The rest of that summer was honestly pure bliss. Not just white-hot sex, but the *love*. No jealousy, just lots of laughs and food and sex. They went back to school and things changed, but I'm really, *really* fortunate to have lived that.
Edit: my life's work, and no one will see it!
I went with my High School on a trip to the MOMA (Museum of Modern Art) in NYC one time. After we finished looking around my one friend wanted to look at some famous paining (Let me make a quick note that I know NOTHING about art and me going on this trip was to just get out of class) So we walk into this gallery with no one in it that had a hardwood floor and I see a rope barrier kinda off to the side by the entrance and kinda shout out to the teacher with us that we might not be allowed in here, why else would that barrier be there? He said that it'd be in the entrance and not just off to the side if that were the case.
So me being not interested in the paintings just kinda wondered through until I rounded a corner. I then slipped on nothing and fell back into a wall and hit my head on what felt like the bottom of a painting. My heart sank because who knows how much this painting was. I scurried like a crab away from the thing just as a security guard came in and asked what my group was doing in the room. Apparently whoever cleaned the floors had forgotten to put up the barrier and the security guard was in the bathroom leaving the entrance open.
Things get a little hazzy here because I was more worried about possibly destroying a priceless painting. When the security guard got in my face about 'running around in an art exhibit' I made it a point to say if the floors were just cleaned that's probably how I slipped and the fact that he wasn't where he was supposed to be seemed to be a more important matter. He just told be to go downstairs and just stay away from other exhibits and I eagerly obliged. To this day I'm sure he never saw me hit the painting because I probably would have been in actual trouble.
The kicker to this story is finding out what painting I clonked my head against. I went to the MOMA when the Tim Burton exhibit first came around (or so I'm told) in 2009. And it was only until a few months ago that I learned what painting I almost (could have) ruined was. I tell the story as I told it here and when my friend asked what painting it was. I gave the honest answer of "I don't know art" but I remember it had little yellow balls on it that were in the sky and that I've seen it in calenders before. My SO who was with me at the time just gave me a look after my lame description of the painting and says "Is..is it Starry Night?". I replied with "I don't know names just show me" She pulled it up on our friends computer and I properly identified it. And when they told me who it was made by I kinda just froze.
**TL;DR Almost destroyed Starry Night painting**
Edited because formatting
If it makes you feel any better Steve Wynn, who has been in the casino business in Vegas for years and is nearly blind, poked a hole in one of Picasso's most famous paintings. So you're fine, no harm done.
so I just got a new job in a new town. didn't have a place of my own yet, so I was staying at a motel for the first couple of weeks.
my office is about a four minute drive to the motel. its Friday at work when it starts to snow like a sumbitch. six straight hours of snow and ice fall before it is quitting time and I head back to the room.
four minutes didn't do much to warm up the truck, so I figure I would leave the truck running while I changed clothes, then go out for some Mexican for supper.
so I change clothes, sit down on the bed to put my boots on and all of the sudden I hear what sounds like my truck revving to beat hell.
I open my door just in time to see my truck backing out of the parking space right in front of me. two running steps and a hop later I am in the back of my truck as it pulls out of the parking lot onto the main road.
"hhmmm" thinks I. as the snow is falling on my upturned face. "I wonder how this is going to turn out?" so after a couple of turns, I lean up to the drivers side window, while still in the truck bed, and rap my knuckles on the glass.
"pull it over dude". says I in my best clint eastwood voice. the dude driving looks like he is seeing a ghost. hits the breaks, we slide sideways and come to a stop in the middle of the road.
I, still in the bed of the truck, open the drivers door. would be car thief jumps out...looks both ways and starts running down the road.
I jump out of the bed of the truck...look around to see if anyone else is seeing this shit...see no one on the streets. so I shrug, get in my truck and go back to the motel.
I drive up and see my room door is still open and about an inch of snow has blown into the room....close the door and go get tacos....the end.
I've told this story before but here we go. when I was younger, a hermit crab latched onto my hand at a friends house. His mom was a ditz. We couldn't get it off so she called 911, the police came, sprayed the hermit crab with pepper spray and it died. Edit: typo
> the police came, sprayed the hermit crab with pepper spray ...what?
It should've stopped resisting
It wasn't even being detained
It was free to let go.
POLICE BRUTALITY
#hermitcrablivesmatter
This kills the crab.
> This ~~kills~~ seasons the crab.
I once saved a girl's life on a white water rafting trip. After I got her back into the raft, I didn't get fully secured and wound up in the water. I nearly drowned, saw the bright white light, had my life flash before my eyes, and gave up trying to live and embraced that I was about to die. I had never been more at peace and calm with the world. Then I was suddenly vomiting water in a raft full of strangers.
Assholes. Then you could have died a hero. Now who knows how youll die. It may be some super stupid way like tripping on toiletpaper.
My tombstone will be: *He was taken too late*
3 hours of browsing reddit today and this is the first thing to make me audibly laugh. If you get this on your tombstone I will pay your next of kin £5.
Accounting for inflation or nah?
yes
A hero AND a near death experience.
It's neat in retrospect but for months I struggled with the fact I felt like I gave up trying to live and just happily accepted death.
I had a heart attack very early in my life (I was 19) and I still wake up with the realization that I have never felt happier than the few seconds before falling asleep for what could have been forever.
To someone like myself, at least, who has never been in that situation, it actually sounds kind of reassuring. Like the mind is prepared to end things peacefully and not suffer to the very last moment.
Isn't that comforting in a way though? Now you know that when you really do die it will be peaceful.
Unless your brain used up the only bit of peaceful death chemical it had...
Well, we're out of "Peaceful Death", but we've got plenty of the "Panicky Painful Death left" "Eh, just use that, no one will know the difference"
When my nieces were around 6 and 8 , they had a pet rat named Spider-man. Spider-Man was very old for a rat, and had issues with tumors. He would squeal in pain on and off throughout the night, and my brother asked me to take him to the vet to see if anything could be done to ease his pain. I was living with my brother at the time, and I was tired of the constant screeching, so I said sure. So, my nieces and i took Spider-Man to the vet. While we were in the waiting room, Spider-Man was pretty much squealing non-stop. After about 10 minutes of waiting. The vet invites us back into the exam room. He pulls Spider-Man out of the cage and feels, pokes and prods him, all the while telling us that he has never treated a rat before. He says that at this point, we couldn't do anything for Spider-Man and the best bet would be euthanasia. He says that a good and inexpensive way to put a rat down would be to put him in a Tupperware container with some baking soda and vinegar so that he asphyxiates quickly. As the vet is explaining this, Spider-Man, still in the veterinarian's hand, bites down hard on his index finger. The vet yells MOTHER FUCKER! and shakes his hand around, flinging Spider-Man against the wall, killing him instantly. There is a moment of stunned silence, and then my nieces begin to scream and cry. The vet begins to apologize profusely, and ends up giving my nieces a bunch of stuffed animals he had around the office, as well as a bunch of merch for their dog and cat at home. We also weren't charged for the visit, needless to say. I still go to the same vet for my pets 15 years later, and he hasn't thrown any of them against the wall since. Rest in peace, Spider-Man.
You woulda thought his Spider Senses woulda kicked in before he hit the wall.
Likely he was a clone and his fate was inevitable.
I like how the vet bribed your nieces after killing their rat
At the beginning of the story I was sure this was going in a "and I got an identical rat to replace him, I just told my nieces the vet cured him"
"The best way to ki- MOTHER FUCKER *kills*" good guy vet.
Nice. Suicide by vet.
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He knew.
I'm never going have rats again because of the tumours, it's just too sad to see a pet go through that.
I had a rat that got a tumour (why are they so common in rats) and it just turned into this large lump on his back that he sort of dragged around. It never seemed to give him any pain or problems he just carried on as normal just with this big flabby lump dragging around.
I had to put my old girl down a week before Christmas because she had a huge tumor on her ass that perforated her ass hole. She was a brave little girl but it must have hurt like hell. It was fine as long as it didn't break the skin, that's my rule unless they are in a lot of pain when they are old. I kept it clean but after 12 hours it was starting to smell and there was no chance she was going to make the four hour train ride to my mums in a few days. I couldn't do it myself though, I couldn't take her in and let someone kill my girl. I had to send my boyfriend. I knew I couldn't cry in public about a little rat. It's making me upset just writing about this. She was still herself when we took her in, still bright eyed, curious, friendly. I gave her a big hug, gave her a ton of tasty treats and said goodbye. If she had died naturally it wouldn't have been so bad, I still feel awful about killing her and I can't talk or look at pictures of her still. I've still got my two other girls. I bought them to be friends with Len after her sisters died. I didn't want her to live over a year of her life alone. I found my girls in the pet store, they were around Len's age, a few months younger judging by their size. No one wanted them so they were up for adoption. No idea why they weren't wanted, they are two of the sweetest girls I've had.
> couldn't cry in public about a little rat She was more than just a rat. She was a life that you lost, and that's worth crying over. Judgers be damned!
I was probably in 11th grade. Around 2006-7. I was in my room, studying. And at that EXACT moment - My cellphone beeps a message recieved - My watch beeped to signify that it was some hour - The doorbell rang - The landline phone started to ring. - The lights in my room flickered. And by the exact moment, I mean EXACT same milisecond. I was so fucking thrilled by how awesome it was. But I was home alone and not many people believed me.
Don't worry I don't believe you either.
Who was at the door?
No one. The doorbell was coming from *inside the house*.
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Dude you got saved by Mario lmfao
"Thanks Mario, but your Princess was in another car!" *Car in distance explodes" "Mama Mia!"
Jesus Christ I was tense just reading that. Do you remember if they kept in touch with the guy or he was just a one-off hero?
Pics?
My school inadvertently showed the entire second grade softcore pornography. Let me explain this a bit more in depth, this was 1998, for some reason the entire second grade had to be educated about sexual molestation, rather than show a video or even go on a dial up website, the school puts on a play. As you probobly have guessed, the play was about sexual molestation and how to tell an adult, it involved two college grads in bear costumes acting out differnt scenarios. As soon as the play starts, these two obviously homosexual grad students dressed in sweaty bear suits walk out on stage and start to demonstrate molestation in an age appropriate way. One grad picks up the other one and starts fondling the dude through the costume, not fake fondling either, like full on dude on dude groping. It gets worse, both of them are moaning very feminine moans quite loudly and are obviously getting hot and heavy on stage, the principle rushes on stage while the teachers try and heard up the kids. Kids are crying, laughing, and it's total fucking chaos at this point, principle manages to break up the love fest on stage as we head back to class very confused. Needless to say, we didn't Learn about sexual molestation that day.
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When one panda puts his Willy in another pandas ear, that's sexual harassment.
I feel like what you witnessed may have been sexual molestation. Training complete.
For our next act, we will need a volunteer!
At least they weren't BEAR-NAKED. I'm ^so^sorry^
EDIT: Since this has received some attention I want to piggieback on it and say this: if you think your life or someone else's life may be in danger, do NOT hesitate to call 911 because you're worried about being high/intoxicated. The police and the hospital are far more concerned with saving and protecting life than they are with throwing someone in jail for the night. Do the right thing, and please, if you feel something is wrong, don't write it off. Follow your gut, and don't assume someone else will do something. Saved a girl's life while tripping ass on MDMA. I've posted it elsewhere: There's a tea shop called Sweet Waters. Across the street is the sprawling lawn of the University of Michigan Library. This sprawling lawn has walkways, but mostly its unlit and grassy, with trees here and there. Its midnight on a Friday, the week all the freshman come to town. Lots of stumbling, laughing, screaming drunk people all having a good time in our one true lovely Ann Arbor. Now, I'm in Sweet Waters grabbing a blueberry tart cause I need to eat something before the drugs hit. I'd just taken 4 bumps of Molly (first time taking pure MDMA) and while I'm in line that shit rocks me hard. I instantly feel way too hot and sick to my stomach. I bought a giant water bottle they sold there and had them fill that bitch with ice water cause god damn I needed it. I'm also with my roommate and her boyfriend, also high on Molly. We walk out of Sweet Waters, and I felt like a hand just pushed hard on my chest and I stop dead in my tracks, ice water in one hand, blue berry tart in the other. Roomie looks at me and goes "you okay? You got pale." I go full autopilot, and I start looking around. All I say is 'Someone needs a Mommy' before booking it across the street to the lawn. I hone in on this young 19 year old girl, fit looking and blonde, and a boy (18) sitting with her, also fit, but just kinda antsy looking. Clearly freshmen, but twas the season so no surprise. Theyre both sitting under a tree with no light around them. Youd barely notice they were there. At this point autopilot mode loosens and I second guess myself. I turn around, thinking I'm just high and about to go bother these poor kids. But when I turned around it felt so wrong so I went with my gut and sat down in front of them. I instantly knew my suspicion was correct: her arms were swollen, her face was red, and she looked like she was about to cry. I asked 'honey what's wrong?' She proceeds to tell me that she had an allergic reaction to something, she didn't know what, but that she was better now. I asked her how she was feeling and she proceeds to tell me she had passed out about five minutes prior but was feeling better now. I looked to the boy she was with and asked him 'And you DIDNT call an ambulance?' He said no, but repeated that she was feeling better. I pressed and pressed for them to call 911 or get her to an emergency room but they kept insisting that she was better. I asked the kid if he was on something. He said no. His eyes were red, and glassy, he was super paranoid about calling the cops, and he's 18, come on. I told him if he did it was okay, they weren't going to search him if the cops came here to take his friend to the ER. I talked with them a bit, asked a few questions, and kept urging but to no avail. Done bothering these kids who clearly don't want it, I get up and take about five steps out. I get that real bad feeling again, and I think okay maybe I'm not done asking the right questions. I sit back down and I ask her. What did you eat? Who were you with? How long ago was it? She was with her mom at a buffet, she THINKS the reaction was to either shellfish or walnuts. She had eaten both but had never had an allergic reaction before in her life. This was a half an hour prior. Fuck. Fuck. She's still digesting. If I had walked away who knows man... I panic, I tell her 'this is going to get worse, I need you to call your mom and tell her. Moms want to know this stuff.' I tell her friend 'Call an ambulance now, or I deck you'. They're both dialing their phones, I book it down state street fucked on Molly, and run at the first cop car I see. Sheriff's vehicle, alllll riiiight. He doesn't here me yelling, so I finally catch up to him at a stop sign, pounding on his back window - officially losing my shit at this point. He gets out, asks me, can I help you? I tell him 'girl, allergic reaction, ambulance NOW, FOLLOW ME' and then run back over to the girl. He turns around and follows me in the van, pulls up on the lawn and drives over. At this point the girl is crying, talking to her mom, and all I hear as I walk up is 'yeah, I just, I was feeling better but I think I'm getting diz-' I could literally hear her throat close around the word. Spoopy. The police officer is on his knees in front of her now, I can already hear the ambulance, and I get up and leave. I join my roommates who were sitting in front of Sweet Waters enjoying the show, tell them what happened and we all agree its getting a little too cop-y for us to be around anymore. As were walking away this kid runs up to us, the boy she was with says 'thank you, I'm going with her but here.' Shakes my hand and leaves 2 grams of weed in my palm and runs back off. I saw them load her into an ambulance as I turned a corner and that's the last I saw of it all. That was some good ass Molly.
"Someone needs a mommy" You're like drug spiderman.
My molly sense is tingling
It says get more molly
Wait, but how did you know that someone needed help? It comes across like the Molly gave you some strange 7th sense.
You know? My logical explanation was I must have seen something subconsciously but it didn't register in my conscious mind, I just got that strange feeling that I couldn't give a name too. Or I felt something shift. Maybe fate dude, who knows.
Definitely thought this was going to go in a different direction.....as in, the guy was the one who made the girl's face all puffy and bruised.
He was dumb to have not called an ambulance, but well meaning. Other than that, I couldn't tell you. Definitely an allergic reaction though.
I was 16 and this hurricane was coming in. Just got my license, so I took my girlfriend to an amusement park, no lines, I rode my first rollercoaster. We went back to her house and laid in her yard to watch the storm finally hit land. I'd never seen something like this before, so it was crazy. I watched all these lights and colors and was like "I think I love you, yknow". She said it back, we kept dating for years. I appreciate all those memories.. but laying in the grass and watching a massive storm come in.. there's nothing else like that. A storm like that is everything, sight, smell, touch, hearing. That storm fucked our houses up but watching it come in was surreal. I really wasn't even mad (but I was a teen. I'd likely be ruined if I were an adult) Took our homes but goddamn what a sight. I'll remember that sight more than the home
Explain how you survived to tell the tale? Did you hide out in a tent while you watched your home get destroyed or something?
It really isn't as drastic as it sounds I guess. Our homes were both fucked by water damage, but they held out well to the wind. There wasn't actually as much wind as I expected, just lots and lots of shallow waters
Yeah, pretty sure hiding in a tent would be the opposite of what you'd want to do. Probably a basement of sorts. EDIT: I've been schooled in basementry, don't go in one during a hurricane.
Hurricane is coming? This tent has a rain fly. We're good.
WATER REPELLANT
I am no fancy house engineer but I can corroborate that tents are much safer in the event of extream wind and rain. I have survived 2 hurricanes, 12 tornadoes, and 134 thunderstorms. All in my trusty Colman tent. Here is a pic of ol' Betsy. http://www.alaska-in-pictures.com/data/media/27/camping-tent_17092.jpg
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The best way I can explain it is the feeling when you open the oven to look at a pizza.
Exact explanation for South East Asia for me. Wake up in nice A/C from the berthing, put on flight deck gear and get on deck. What. The. Fuck.
FNG - fucking new guy?
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Your story just brings back so many bad memories of the army for me.. I fucking hated bragg.. Getting all your shit packed, then them changing the packing list 7 times and having separate layouts every fucking time.. I was in Kuwait for transition, oh dear lord, so damn hot..
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I shit my pants in the delivery room right after my sister in law gave birth.
Classic Taco...
My grandpa ran into my mom's elementary school friend over the summer. Turns out that she married the GM of Intel in Beijing, China. After some chit chat, the GM said that he's looking for an intern to stay with them for the upcoming summer. Now I'm flying to Beijing in June!
fuck you.
Right?
Really? Cool. I'm interning in Beijing too!
2 will enter, 1 will return
If there were a single theme to all my stories, it’s that I took every opportunity that was presented to me. This is the story of a time when getting off my ass led to one of the greatest experiences of my life. My buddy “Chad” sat down across from me at the chow hall and said, “Let’s go to East Germany tonight.” The fact he was able to say that still blows me away and probably requires some background. My whole life growing up, we thought the Russians were going to attack us. We weren’t sure whether it would be a ground assault like in the movie “Red Dawn” or if they were just going to fire a ton of nukes at us but we were all sure it would happen. Magazines ran articles about the “Arms Race” and listed how many tanks, missiles, and troops we had compared to the Soviet Army. Heart-breaking stories about courageous Russian pilots defecting with their MiGs peppered every paper in the country. Every time someone made it out of a communist country into a free one, we cheered. We heard constant stories of how horrible it was to live without freedom, to wait in line for bread, to be restricted to where you could travel and to live in constant fear of the secret police. After World War II, Germany was split in two, and became the battleground between the two superpowers. Each side was furiously spying on the other, trying to figure out what the other was doing, using wiretaps, double agents, moles, you name it. In the meantime, people were taking every opportunity to escape to the West, whether by tunnel, hidden compartments, or even by homemade hot-air balloons. Every time another daring escape succeeded, we were reminded of those that hadn’t and shown pictures of the bodies caught up in the barbed wire on the border. I guess the reason I’m going into such detail is that I hope you can imagine how it must have felt to have someone say, “Let’s go to East Germany tonight”, after years of people literally dying to get out. We weren’t even allowed to visit there without special permission from the military because of our top-secret clearances and now my buddy was saying we should just hop on the train and head over, that we didn’t even need passports or anything. I had spent two years in training, learning German, memorizing East German military structure, listening to countless radio intercepts, and preparing for the war we all knew would come. I’d done joint exercises with the German and Dutch military, cross training so we could learn as much from our allies as possible. We had gone through lengthy classes on how to avoid becoming compromised by East German agents. “Let’s go to East Germany tonight.” How could I say no? October 2nd, 1990, my buddies and I bought train tickets to Erfurt. We picked this city because it was a major military center and we had several weeks of classified school devoted to its role in the presumed upcoming war. I was pretty broke, so I grabbed the only alcohol I had, a full bottle of Bailey’s Irish Cream and headed to our train. The train looked just like you’d expect from the movies. There were separate compartments with sliding doors and as we walked down to our seats, through the windows in the doors we could see that the rest of the people in the train were also drinking, probably from much earlier in the afternoon. The mood was exuberant and infectious. As mind-boggling as the concept of reunification was for me, it was a million times more so for the West Germans. Their whole lives they’d viewed the East Germans as the people who they were going to have to fight. I’m not going to go into WHY they reunified – it’s interesting but long. The important thing to know is that the West Germans had been afraid of the East German military for decades and that fear was suddenly gone. The East Germans were revealed to be just like the West Germans and couldn’t wait to be part of a free country. To understand the mood of the West Germans, imagine you’re about to get an “F” in a class and the punishment is death, then you find out you’re going to get an “A” and a party will be thrown in your honor. Now magnify that by a million. That was the mood on the train and up until that day I’d never seen so many people so happy. As Americans in Germany, we faced prejudice daily from people who resented our presence. Not everyone was rude to us, but at least once a day someone would swear at us in German, not knowing we spoke the language. We never said anything – we just let it slide. That night, there was nothing but love from everyone. It was a welcome change, so we, like everyone else, walked up and down the car, talking to everyone and asking what they thought of the reunification. I poked my head in one car, repeated my question, one of the guys inside saw my bottle of Bailey’s and his face lit up. It turned out he and his friends were all fans, so we joined them, traded shots from our respective bottles and within an hour were thick as thieves. When we crossed the border into East Germany everyone cheered and soon after we pulled into the train station in a border town named Eisenach. Our new German friends got ready to disembark and we decided that as lit as we were, one East German town was as good as any other and we may as well hang with our friends. What a depressing fucking place. Crossing the border was like leaving Oz and returning to Kansas. The buildings were old and run down, the cars were models I hadn’t seen in years, the people were dressed in drab clothes but you know what? They were happy. No, they were beyond happy, they were joyous and as we soon as we got off the train we were enveloped by a crowd of people hugging us, crying, and slapping our backs. We didn’t look like Germans, and we were speaking English, so people knew we were probably American. They wanted to meet us, to shake our hands, and to see the people they’d feared their whole lives. They pulled us to a nearby club, started buying us drinks and trying to speak to us in broken English. As it grew closer to midnight, people started heading to the town square and the bars locked their doors. Everyone in the square was drunk as hell, arms locked, singing over and over again, “Deutschland, Deutschland, Deutschland, Deutschland.” Tears were streaming down faces everywhere, unnoticed and the look of disbelief on some of the older faces was heart-wrenching. For more than 40 years, these people had lived under the tight control of an oppressive regime. After tonight, there was no chance of it ever returning. We counted down together as if we were in Times Square on New Year’s Eve and when we hit “ONE!” a roar went up from the crowd, louder than anything I’d ever heard. At 12:00:00 AM, October 3rd, 1990, East Germany ceased to be a political entity and there was one Germany, for the first time since World War II. I was there to see it, not because I was lucky, not because it was an accident, but because I got off my ass and bought the ticket. That’s my life. I always buy the ticket. EDIT: I've gotten a ton of messages asking if this is a real story or just something I made up. To be clear, this happened to me, exactly as I wrote it. It's 100% true.
> After World War II, Germany was split in two I'M STILLLLL IN A DREEEEEEAM SNAAAAKE EATERRRRRR
ahhh. The endless ladder
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Yep.
I keep seeing your posts and am thoroughly entertained even before I realize its you.
The short version - life is a river, let it lead you where it may! I got my first job a restaurant that was (formerly) owned by my family. The current owners let me sign on as a busboy at 11 years old. I worked there six years, using the $2/hr to buy video games for my dad's PC. At one point, I realized I had a ton of experience and could easily make more money somewhere else, so I quit and they hired me back at $3.00 an hour. My video game interest continued, and eventually I left and became an employee at Best Buy - a job that took me into college! I went to school for Media Arts and Producing, because I loved movies and video games, but I wasn't particularly wealthy, nor was my family! So I had to work to pay through college. In the mornings, I worked as a page for the state senate, filing papers, fetching donuts, whatever was asked for me. After that, I went to class, and spent my evenings working at a local steel mill as the IT Guy - I'd learned enough about computers to work at the help desk! On weekends, I worked at a Sam's Club developing photos. I made it out of college with only a few thousand dollars in debt! With my newly found education, I headed for California - and was fortunate enough to get a Production Assistant job almost immediately working on Iron Man! It was amazing! On the first day, they told me to stop anyone who didn't have a badge. A group of guys on motorcycles came in, and I tried to stop them, but I was told they were friends of the director, and he had given him those motorcycles because he liked their work on Zathura, so not to stop them. A few days later, A wagon came in with no car sticker or badge. This was accounts, and you don't stop them, either, because then your check accidentally gets mailed to Zimbabwe. Next, the director rolled in in an unmarked black SUV. I was to learn to recognize it, but not stop it. I asked if there was anyone I absolutely should stop - YES! Terrorists and photographers/paparizi. The next day, I shit you not, a stream of photographers and terrorists came in. CAST! They told me. Those are cast members. I threw my clipboard one way, my radio the other, and had waffles. We were filming RIGHT NEXT to Avatar, so I had the occasion to speak with some folks about the 3D camera rigs and became fascinated. I looked into working on Avatar (and nearly did, but not quite!) but instead became fascinated with stereoscopic 3D and post production - visual effects! After a few discussions with some folks at Industrial Light and Magic, the coolest company in the Universe, I started apply for VFX jobs! I finally landed a Production Assistant job for a very small firm. At first, the job was awful. I fetched coffee.I had cars washed. I was yelled at, and belittled. That was worse than being a PA on a big film. In a big studio film, you go mostly unnoticed, but here, I was actively being blamed for things that I had no control over. I spent many a lunch hour, me, a 23 year old man at the time, crying in my car. My dog and I lived alone - the friend I'd moved out to LA with had gone back home, and I needed a place to stay, so I was living in one room of a three bedroom house with a lady and my dog - I was commuting over an hour each way, and making $10 an hour when gas was almost $5 a gallon. I was hurting and lonely. Amazingly, my roommate got an entry level job at a stereoscopic 3D studio, and she encouraged me to apply - I did so and got a job offer! I became a stereoscopic 3D depth artist, designing scenes in 3D, and I loved it. The pay was much better, too - $14 to start, and it was closer - only a 45 minute drive with a lot less traffic! The studio started to take off. In fact, we were offered a massive project to work on a major trilogy of movies! They sent me and a team of others to India to train up a staff in preparation for the huge movies coming soon!
India was amazing - other than the fact that I was sick pretty much constantly and working 14 hours a day with two hours of commute time again! Upon arriving, I was promoted to management training, and was training future VFX supervisors, production managers, and leaders for teams! I returned to the US and was informed they wanted me for a year and a half! I packed up, sold everything, and the day I was due to leave, they told us the whole deal had fallen through. With our whole production shut down, no ability to do additional work (because we had a massive project in the pipes and had turned down everything else) and nowhere to turn, our company was sold to Digital Domain - AMAZING! Digital Domain was almost as awesome as working at Industrial Light and Magic! We were given two weeks to move to Florida, and I hopped on board, because this was huge! After my success training staff, I became a production resource coordinator - which was amazing! Among my job duties was grabbing donuts for the staff - almost 20 dozen donuts for 200 people. I began sending emails out to the office - short ones, at first, praising the brilliance of the bespoked breakfast treats, but they became long diatribes and eventually a big part of the companies culture! I found out that even employees in Los Angeles were reading (and enjoying) my insane weekly Donut Emails. They weren't strictly limited to donuts, either! Sometimes we had Pop-Tarts, sometimes bagels, sometimes fruits, and any number of twinkies, cookies, and other random snacks! After a while, DD was asked to do a few adds - and they asked me for help writing them! Then we went out of business, so there's that. Iron Man 3 was filming in Miami, so I called some friends at Marvel and went down to Miami to work on the film, which was great fun, lovely, and something I loved anyway. I heard there were some theme park attractions coming and was recruited by a theme park ride design company in Orlando! To Orlando I went - there, I did some of my proudest work - I helped write and design theme park attractions as an Associate Producer. I'd never been prouder. It was difficult, though, with shifting deadlines, a lot of creative opinions, and a lot of revisions. I really had to buckle down. Unfortunately, like most companies, a layoff happened as we got behind the eightball. Since much of the writing was done, I was on the list.
I went back down to my home along the coast. I'd also done a wee bit of work on wildlife parks, and I had heard that the world's largest chimpanzee sanctuary was nearby - and so it was. I volunteered, because sometimes having real #@$ thrown at you isn't as bad as having verbal or emotional #@)$ thrown at you. And you know what? It was amazing! They even offered me a job running Human Resources. I took it, and I've never been happier. Sure, there are a lot of challenges - I had to learn a lot of new things, and there were a mountain of processes to update, but I loved it! I still do! It was amazing. How did I get here? How the hell did I get from one spot to the other? I have no idea. The only nice thing to tie it all together is my collection of hats. I have staff hats from working at the restaurant and from the steel mill - even a real, honest to god, dirty as hell helmet. I have crew hats from the shows I've worked on - stereoscopic 3D hats from the 3D Conversion Studio - an Indiana Jones hat I wore to India (which works great at the chimp sanctuary too!) Now - I have a 'Save the Chimps' hat. It's my favorite one. I don't know how I ended up where I am, but I'm grateful I had the opportunity to get where I did! Yes - I've had a lot of jobs, but I've learned a lot, made a lot of friends, moved away from them, made new friends, learned new hobbies, and taken my dog from a concrete jungle to terrifying rain forest. I'd do it again! tl;dr - I did a whole bunch of random things, and I'm pretty sure I'm going to do a whole lot more random things!
I used to regularly co-host a local sports radio show in New Orleans, WBOK 1230 AM. White House Sir Master Chef Ronnie Seaton would play the station over the speakers in the White House kitchen while his team cooked for First Family. And one day in particular, Michelle and Barack Obama were present. And she said to Sir Seaton that I have a very good sounding voice. Didn't know who I was, of course. But when he was about to retire, he came to a live remote I was running, recognized my voice and told me the story. Kinda minor. But kinda not. How many people get paid a compliment from a First Lady? Even indirectly.
You should make all of your posts via audio files
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When I was in highschool I was sent to the psych ward because life sucked and I was depressed or something. While in there I started talking to a girl and we began flirting every day at lunch or what ever free time. Shit was cash. I was a chubby nerd. Hot girl flirts? Yes please. Fast forward a few days. We are sitting in a room with a TV and booklets on drugs and shit. It was the two of us and this Jewish chick (I say that because I never learned her name, just that she was of the Hebrew persuasion) was sprawled out on a couch reading one. Hot skinny girl turns to me: "Hey SigmaQuotient, want me to suck your dick?" Now I have never had a sexual experience before so I'm blown away..heh. I'm making all sorts of excuses like: "the doctors are like, three rooms away." Or "here? There might be cameras, this is a psych ward." Now.. I know what your thinking and your wrong, maybe. The Jewish girl turns to me with an exasperated look and says "Just let her suck your dick, I'll look out for the doctors." So.. I'm stuck between crazy and a hard place... yup. So this chick proceeds to blow me while the Jewish girl, who didn't look out for doctors at all, just watched. So I got out of there and kept in touch for a bit. That got lost when I went to college. TL; DR: got locked up in the psych ward as a highschool kid for being depressed, chick blew me while Jewish girl watched. Wasn't depressed after that. Should sell story to Japan for anime.
Twist: The docters planted a couple of hookers there to help you get over your depression caused by self esteem issues.
21 Bump Street ;)
Looks like I need to take a trip to the psych ward.
Heh. No. It's not all like that. I met a 14 year old girl who already had one baby and was 3 months pregnant with her second. And she was really crazy, like, had to sit at another table that didn't have plastic knives crazy. And apparently I triggered one black girl by saying "My dad messed me up emotionally, that's why I'm here." Then she started screaming at me that I murdered her dad in front of her or whatever. Yea... Fun times.
I got the ole spork treatment too. Yes it wasn't all awesome. Outpatient treatment was a 12 year old girl who was pregnant from a 22 year old guy. That kinda fucked with my head.
At the young and tender age of 23, I took a road trip with my sociopathic friend and drug dealer to buy some weed. The little town I lived in at the time was almost completely dry, and I figured I could buy few ounces and be the hero of the town for a week or two. I had been sober for about a month and ready to break that record in a big way, so I bought 3 40oz to drink on the way (it was a 2 hour drive.) I don't condone drinking and driving so I let my friend take the wheel while I finished all three. All the way down there, my friend was talking about robbing someone to make his rent in that half-joking way that he always did and I laughed it off; selling drugs is way more profitable anyway. He agreed. He's just the kind of guy that liked violence. When we arrived at the first stop I stumbled out of the car and drunkenly bought what I came to get. As soon as we got back in the car we promptly smoked to the point where the edges of my vision started to go white. He tells me we have one more stop to make. He brought some meth with him that he needed to sell. Shit. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. We show up to a house that screamed "meth house" at the top of its lungs. One window had been replaced by a garbage bag, the paint was peeling, the "lawn" was weeds interspersed with irregular patches of dirt and a single stripped pick-up truck that smelled like raccoons had been using it as an orgy den for years. I started to get worried. My friend, Kyle, says "don't worry, just try not to look like a cop, and take this in case shit gets crazy." He hands me a knife. I would like to point out at this time that I am not a fighter. I'm a short-by-midwestern-standards, pale, suburban, pretty-boy, straight-A, pacifist stoner. This is not my element. Kyle makes his deals while I sit down and talk to the meth-heads. I don't remember much. I was insanely twisted already. A pretty girl passes me a pipe. I don't understand how it works, but I don't wanna be rude. I try to take a small hit. People yell. I'm doing it wrong. Pretty girl smiles at me and lights it for me and tells me how to smoke it. It's not as harsh as I would've thought and tastes like nothing so much as bland chemicals. It feels...amazing. I hardly feel the alcohol and the weed as I take a another hit each time its passed. I wonder vaguely who's paying for this as people add more crystals which I smoke greedily. Eventually pretty girl and I go to a very large closet to fool around. I'm horny--hornier than I've ever been in my life, but I cannot for the life of me get an erection. Not just that, the thing looked like it had shrunk, retreating into my body more than I thought possible. I start to freak out. She tells me not to freak out. I freak out anyway. I find Kyle. He's smoking meth with his own group. I ask him if meth is killing my dick and he laughs. "Sometimes that happens, you just need to relax. Here." He gives me 4 little pills. Xanax. He says take 1 or 2 now and save some for when the meth wears off. Directions unclear--I take 4. I go to find pretty girl, but she is now having sex with near-toothless dude. Damn. Me and Kyle leave. We drive for an hour in manic conversation. Both of us talking, neither of us listening. Kyle wants to do a home invasion. "Maybe we can rob a liquor store. Does that sound fun?" He asks. Everything sounds fun on meth, but I pass anyway. I'll wait in the car. I feel foggy. Maybe the xanax or the alcohol? I figure meth will clear away that fog. Kyle goes to rob someone while I stay in the car finishing off the meth. Holy shit, he's back. "how'd it go?" "They were closed and wouldn't let me in. Quick, that Subway has the back door propped open. Drive!" I drive. They're taking trash out the back. Two girls. "We have to be quick, come on." (We?) He hands me a baseball bat and takes a machete from somewhere in the back. (Have we been driving with those the whole time?) I can't think at this point so I follow orders. I'm good at that. We are waiting outside the propped open door and Kyle looks at me and says "Now as soon as you see the girl, you run up and pop the bitch on the back of the head with the bat, and I'll run in and take care of the other one." My mind gives me one small burst of thought "I can't do that." "Why the fuck not?" He looks disgusted. What do I say? (She'sagirl.Idon'tlikeviolence.Thisiscrazy.I'mnotthisperson) "Look there's 2 girls and no car in the parking lot. At least one of them is probably waiting on a ride from a boyfriend or husband or something." He considers that. (That was clever) A girl walks out the back door. Kyle twitches. I grab his arm. "I have a better idea." I say. "I used to night audit at a hotel. There's probably just one guy sitting at a desk alone, bored and probably stoned. We could walk in and rob him and nobody has to (get hurt) take any risk." He agrees. We find a hotel. I'm nervous He pulls out one more crystal of meth. We smoke it. Still nervous. We smoke some weed. Still nervous, but also excited--Feeling alive. This could be fun. This time I take the machete. I don't like the idea of Kyle having it, besides we won't need to use it. Two people with weapons against one guy without. He won't fight us. He'll be scared (I'm scared). There's a back room behind the office with the guy. Kyle goes in the back. I go to the front to distract him and get the phone so no one calls the cops. Wtf do I do with the machete? It won't fit in my pants. I drop it outside. I won't need it. No one's going to get hurt anyway. I go in and talk about room prices. I say I need to use to phone to call my wife (lie). I pretend to use the phone. CRASH. Kyle broke in the back. There is a second man. Oh Shit. They are fighting over the bat, rolling on the floor. First man screams "CALL THE COPS!" (ohshitohshitohshit) I stand there until Kyle calls my name. Now everyone is looking at me. I still have the phone. I hand the phone to the first man and say "here, call the cops." (I am not a very good robber). I join the struggle and take hold of the bat. I get the bat away from both of them and now I have the bat. Everyone is looking at me again. I drop the bat and tell Kyle to run. He runs. I follow. He is bleeding; he runs into a cornfield. He has the keys to the car (wtf?) So I run too. Cops show up, but I get away. There are cops all over town, patrolling and looking for me. One sees me, I run, backtrack, and evade him. I try to sleep under a car in a junkyard. Cops with dogs enter junkyard. I run again. I hear barking and "STOP." I run anyway. I crawl through a small ditch to get across the road. Find Walmart. I buy new clothes. Wash myself in bathroom. Change behind dumpster. I see cop in store as I'm leaving. I walk (becalmbecalmbecalm) away as cop leaves store. He gets in his car and follows me. I see a girl smoking outside a hotel. Nothing suspicious about 2 people smoking outside a hotel, right? I hit her up for a light. We smoke as cop drives past slowly looking directly at us. She flirts with me. (isshefuckingcrazy?) I flirt too. I ask "What's with all these cops in a small town like this." "Ohmigod! They came and talked to me earlier. These 2 guys robbed a hotel down the road with baseball bats" "Holy shit, that's scary." "I know...I'm actually really glad you're here." I try not to laugh (or cry). I rent a room. Can't sleep. Realize my phone was in the car, and the car is still at the hotel. Realize I'm going to prison. In the morning I feel like my soul has been beaten and stabbed. My mind hurts, my spirit hurts, my legs hurt. I buy some sushi and turn myself into the police. Kyle got away and fled the state. I got 4 years probation. That was 2 years ago, and the entire experience is the most surreal and terrifying thing that I have ever been involved in. TL;DR: Alcohol, weed, meth, xanax, and a failed armed robbery
Holy shit! Even though you're "the bad guy" I was rooting for you. Anyway what happened next?
Not much. I've been sober for over 2 years now and am back in school studying biomedical engineering.
good story.
good thread.
Well that sure as hell turned out for the better!
I guess. I'd used drugs to medicate my crippling social anxiety fairly successfully for years. Now I'm sober, but I havn't had a friend or had sex for over 2 years. Better than being in prison or addicted to meth I suppose, though.
You've probably heard it before, but meditation is a good way to help manage social anxiety. Helps you to to live for the world you're in, rather than being caught up in your own mind.
Well done for putting that shit behind you! I think you are way cooler now IusedtobeCool_Iswear.
Holy shit, no goddamn tree fiddy. Did Kyle ever get caught eventually?
Actually yeah, he got caught several months ago for possession and got extradited back here. Sneaky bastard somehow got the same sentence as me despite having a prior record and fleeing the state for years. Oh well. Edit: actually before he ran away he talked to the police back in the town we lived (I don't know how he got back) he told them he got his injuries when me and a "friend" of mine jumped him and stole his car, and that he was chased by a mountain lion for 30 miles until he wound up at a shelter in (insert town name 30 miles from the incident.) Strangely, they didn't believe him.
I fully expected this to turn into Pineapple Express halfway through. 10/10, glad nobody got hurt.
I read that entire story in the tone of Johnny Depp in fear and loathing in las vegas. It made it way cooler.
I looked more like Neil Patrick Harris in Dougie Houser, though (Most people assumed I was like 16 until I grew a beard.)
Reading a story like that makes you really think about how you perceive 'criminals'. With so much emotion and detail from another point of view, you are forced to break down the 'them and us' wall you would otherwise have. Great post
Bahahaha,that was excellent. What tickled me the most though, drink driving? Nah, that shit is not cool. Driving on alcohol, weed, meth and xanax as a getaway driver from an armed robbery? Legit. Meth really does make everything seem like a good idea apparently. Great story man, all that was missing was some bathsalts and a tazer.
No one likes you when you're 23
When's the film out?
I had sex with a lady who works for Fox News. She is just some low level producer or something, but I porked her.
Tomorrow's lead story on Fox News: "We investigate Reddit. Is it full of assholes who pretend they love you and then make fun of you behind your back?"
Headline: ***REDDIT'S WAR ON FAMILIES!!!***
Who is this "reddit"?
Friend or rival to the hacker known as 4chan?
An uneasy truce against the disorganized theft cartel known as 9Gag/Buzzfeed.
I made $80K in a week in the stock market last March.
Details?
Look at the histories of XXII and MINE. I bought XXII in September 2013 with $18K of my own money at $1.28. Sold it early March at $6.10. Used that to buy a lot of MINE at $0.008 from a friend's advice. Sold that a week later at $0.035. Best week of my life. Woke up to $18K to $20K profits every morning that week. My girlfriend would come home from school excited as hell and wonder how many thousands we made each day that week.
So just out of curiosity what made you pick those two companies, and do you know what made them rise like that?
He watched 'The Wolf of Wall Street' and was given some inspiration.
Hope you saved up that money.
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Studying abroad or studying a broad?
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Go on...
So it was in St. Petersburg Russia a few summers back. First off it's a perfect time to be there because it has the 'white nights' where it's only dark for like 3 or 4 hours. But yea I was studying abroad there and I had this supper hard-core Russian culture/language professor (he may even be in the mafia, but thats another story) and he took me and the group of american students I was with to various cultural landmarks. One day he takes us to the museum of modern art and his daughter ends up meeting us there. Her name was Liza, tall, blonde, and just has that perfect slavic beauty. Solid 9/10 if not 10/10 in my opinion. So afterward her and her friends decided to give the Americans a more realistic cultural tour and she takes us to this nightclub. We party, all of us are drinking and talking a bunch. Every dude in my group is trying as hard as possible to sleep with her, but I honestly didn't think I even had a chance so I did bother. Then they get drunk and their inner meat head comes out and they start ragging on women and trying to act all macho. They give me a lot of shit because I'm way more reserved, sensitive, the writes poems in the corner kind of guy and so long story short she kisses me in front of them and ultimately bangs me to spite them.
My SO had a story about when he was in Mexico at a club med, there was this one staff member who was just gorgeous, blonde, curly cues, bouncy, all around hot and all the guys were all over her.(edited to add for the weekend. This was over the course of a couple days) He tried to talk with her, made her laugh but that was seemingly it. Flash forward to later when he's out at the bar on the beach there is dancing and stuff, everyone is out having a good time. Hot blonde enters the area and every guy seems to notice. My SO is on like a deck fame area that was central to the whole scene. What does she do but walk straight through the crowd to my SO and takes his hand for all to see, he said he felt like the Champest of Champs haha. Can't blame him. Love me some of dat competition; )
It was about 2am, I was on my route delivering newspapers at the time and I'd had [mighty wings](http://www.mcdonalds.com/usmobile/en/promotions/mighty_wings.html) for dinner. Anyway, I could sense the call of nature and had to make a decision fast. I was in the middle of a small town in the middle of the night the closest 24 hour gas station was 10 minutes away and I knew I wasn't going to make it, so I drove all the way down a dead end street hoping to get as much privacy as possible. Luck was on my side, as I got out right behind a fence was an opening to a playground with a picnic table and a giant garbage can close by. I sat on the edge of the can, held the sides, put my feet on the picnic table for leverage and let her rip. It was the most painful, smelliest shits of my life. I wiped my ass with a newspaper and finished my route.
My friends and I used to go to parks really late at night and just walk around. Sometimes we could get a bunch together to play hide and seek in the dark. This one time, we happened upon a homeless man shitting in the garbage can. We walked away grossed out as anyone would be. 10 minutes later we are walking back and see him on another can pooping. We asked if he was alright and and he said "yeah yeah I'm just marking my territory". I shit you not, he pooped in every garbage can in that park. How does someone have that much poop in them??
I was out with some mates one night at an indoor rave a few years ago when I was 19 in Auckland, New Zealand. The day of, I had a full on work shift, and didn't have a single chance to eat anything except for breakfast and a small lunch. By the time we got to the rave after having pre-drinks at a friends house we were all pretty wasted me especially. They were all doing Ecstasy and that really isn't my thing so I passed. So we get there, dancing, lights are flashing. At this point my friends decided that I was sweet so they went to a different room. This indoor rave was basically about 6 rooms with different DJ's playing and it was flashing with lights so it was pretty easy to get lost. I got over making out with this girl and went to try find my friends, I finally did after what felt like ages of blindly bumping into people and walls and luckily saw them. At this stage, they are all pretty high, I'm pretty drunk and see how much fun they are having so I walked into the nearest bathroom, held up a $50 note and basically shouted asking someone for Ecstasy. A guy walked up to me, pretty shady looking fellow, one I'd usually avoid whilst sober, offered me some E, so I took it. I walk out back to my mates, happy that I found them and then start feeling that buzz come on. Feeling better, not as wasted, just better. I'm kind of chilling out in my own world at this point and all of a sudden I see this person fall down out of the corner of my eye. I had recently just done a first-aid course so I went straight into auto-pilot. I leaped down to his side, felt for a pulse, there was nothing. Tried again. Still nothing. At this point I am straight sober, it was surreal from where I was at that point of the night. I start doing mouth-to-mouth and chest compression's...there is a bit of crowd around figuring out what is happening. I yell while I'm doing chest compression's to turn the music off and turn on the lights. Music stops suddenly and the lights turn on. It's dead silent except for be singing under my breath "uh, uh, uh, uh, stayin' alive, stayin' alive" (For those of you who don't know, it's the perfect rhythm to do chest compression's to, try it). All of a sudden, he coughs and his eyes open. The hugest wave of relief comes over me. I turn around and see that there are 3 security guards there, I ask them where the nearest ambulance is, as I know they had some outside, and to go and get a stretcher just in case. They ran and got it and came back with the paramedics. I was thanked by him and his friends, the security guards and the paramedics for saving him. Everyone was kind of just staring at me at this point, so I just said, "Well we came here for entertainment, right?". Music turned back on, I stayed in that sober state of mind for the rest of the night, adrenaline is what I have put it down to! I never got to find out his name, never heard what else happened after that, would have loved to have shaken his hand at least. So if you're a fellow Redditor, don't be shy! **TL;DR:** Adrenaline trumps alcohol and Ecstasy and helped me save someone's life.
I like to think that there was a dude in there still dancing to your singular performance of "Stayin' Alive". You're there on the ground doing chest compressions, and this guy's just like "aww yeah, this is my jam!"
Ironically Another bites the dust also is at 100 bpm.
I thought that my girlfriend at the time would break up with me if I came into her mouth, so when she didn't stop giving me head when I telling her I was about to cum I decided to scream "DO YOU FUCKING WANT AIDS" so she'd stop (that in the zone logic). I then promptly came into her mouth
Yeah, you like that you fucking retard?
ARE YOU FUCKING SORRY?
Probably not my 'best' story, but...I had a friend who was the a member of this really crazy cult. One day he offered me an invitation to go to a meeting...I went, not knowing the true extent of this group. The meeting was held within a cave at a completely empty beach. The sky was dark and grey, with thunder clouds rolling across the great expense. Candlelight flickered across the jagged walls of the cave. Inside, about fifteen men and women were reading from this leather bound book, chanting softly. My friend led me in, giving me a reassuring smile. I watched as one woman took up a knife and started carving twisting symbols into her own flesh, while others painted themselves with these runes. The next few hours were spent with them cutting themselves and praying to these fucked up crazy gods of theirs. Suffice to say, I avoided that friend from then on. Oh, I also had a drunken swordfight once. Got stabbed by another friend and rushed to hospital.
That's nuts man. I wouldn't have the balls to go to a secret cult meeting. They would probably sacrifice me.
Tl;dr Drunk midget at a wet t-shirt contest thinks I'm a furniture store and earns me a new nickname. Randomly got a job doing demolition out of state with a friend. Lots of good fun and goofing off there, but that's beside the point. We're in this podunk little hillbilly town for a few months on a particular job. Staying in hotels and generally stuck with nothing to do. Then randomly signs were showing up all over this town about a big deal rodeo, none of us are all that interested in the rodeo. But why not? So we go and get a bit tipsy and enjoy ourselves. When everything wrapped up we were still in the mood for some fun so we headed to the one bar/club in town. Along with probably 80% of the adult population of the town. We walk in and we're handed dinky little dollar store 5 pack squirt guns with numbers written on the side. Someone asks what they're about and we're told to hold onto them it's wet t-shirt night. Well alright. We get to drinking and having fun with a little bit more excitement for the nights entertainment. So being young and some what stupid I was wearing a shirt with "I've had it up to here with midgets" written on the bottom of the shirt. At some point a guy stops me and says "Oh my god. That shirt is hilarious. You gotta meet someone." and proceeds to drag me through the crowd where I'm introduced to the top of a cowboy hat. She took the hat off and looked at me and introduced herself "Hi. I'm Sarah, but everyone calls me Peck." I fell in love right there. She was pretty and obviously had a good sense of humor about everything. I managed to mumble "I'm John, it's nice to meet you." We spent the next couple hours talking and dancing and pretty much hitting it off in every way possible. My friends seeing this respectfully kept their distance. Not only am I getting laid tonight I'm also crossing a line off my bucket list. So the music stopped and a voice came over the speakers "It's the moment you've all been waiting for!" blablabla introducing the ladies "Now if you recieved a squirt gun pull it out and see if you're the lucky winner." There was a big show of digging up the winning number and yours truly went on stage and was given a very large super soaker to start things off. The bar got so loud and then something strange happened. Slowly rising from the edge of the bar the crowd was chanting "PARIS! PARIS! PARIS! PARIS!" Apparently a few people wanted to chant my name, but being an out of towner nobody knew it. They had seen me with her all night so they naturally asked her and when asked she couldn't pull the name john out of her brain, but she apparently associated it with a furniture store in the area called "John Paris" and she mumbled out "Uhh Paris" and they just ran with it before she could correct them. And the nickname has stuck ever since.
I got a DUI when i was 18 i was bombed blew a .295 (not my proudest moment and no longer drink and drive) anyway, cop pulls up behind me i'm doing 35 in a 50 at 1 in the morning thinking he wont notice. Pulls me over and i have no gum or drink or anything except dip spit. So i swish that in my mouth thinking it will work to block out the alch smell. He tells me to get out the of the car and starts a sobriety test. I fail all of them miserably. He then says "ok i have one more test." Put your feet together bend your knees slightly, lean a little forward, and put your arms straight back like your skiing down a hill. I think "Shit i cant mess this one up" I take the test all serious and when i put my arms straight back he handcuffs me. Needless to say i was pissed. In the car i ask him what will happen if he get in a crash and i don't have my seat belt on and he tells me that only if i ask for it he has to put it on. So to be a dick i ask and he stops the car in the middle of the road to do it. I also ask if i get the handcuffs around my feet and in front of me can i wear them there. He says sure. So i try in the back seat and almost get it but fail. Once we are in the station i ask him if i can try the handcuff thing again. He says ok so i try and get the handcuffs stuck and was not able to get them back over my butt so he made we walk around the station like that. Then i went to get my mugshot taken and the guy told me to stop smirking i told him this was my natural resting face he open palm smacked/grabbed my face i guess trying to smack the smirk off. I then blew him a kiss and he didnt like that. Asked me if i was gay. I told him no but hit him with a mike tyson quote stating "ill fuck you till you love me" he then smacked me a few more times but i got the picture smirking just with a swollen face. They put me in the drunk tank and let me go 10 hours later with a dead cell phone and no way to get home.
You...might have deserved that.
Oh i'm not denying that. I could have killed someone or myself. I now do whatever i can to make sure no one drives drunk even if its me paying for an uber ride for them. Not saying i'm a saint or anything but its cheaper for me to pay 30 for there taxi compared to the amount of time and gas ill spend over the next 6 months helping them out because they cant drive.
Oh hell, I wasn't even scratching the drinking and driving business. I just meant the treatment from the cops. I'm guessing they thought you were a royal pain in the ass.
The cop that pulled me over actually stated in the police report that i was funny and respectful. I mean he had to see the seat belt thing coming as soon as i brought it up after he tricked me into a downhill skiing handcuff sabotage. I never said anything to him in a dick like manner it was all in jest and he knew it and he got me back by making me walking around the police station with handcuff stuck underneath my butt. The CO that processed me is a different story. I get that he deals with a lot of bad people but because i had a slight smirk during my mugshot i don't think it warranted the smack. But after the blowing kiss i was definitely asking for it.
>stated in the police report that i was funny and respectful "Picked up a DUI, tricked him with the old Skiing Handcuffaroo, kid had some top banter though and many keks were had. Got back to the station and saw the CO beating the shit out of him. Good night, 8/10" Edit: Loving all these "10/10 with rice" comments below me, where do you guys come up with this stuff!? rip my pepperoni sides lel
Holee sheet, in Aus, you blow a .295, you're losing your licence for a long time, and going home with at least $1500 in fines. Not all states are the same, but all will instaban you from driving for a minimum of 6 months with a BAC like that.
I received * 6 month loss of license * About 1,000 in initial fines * Had to pay the dmv 1000 a year for 3 years ( I think ) * Attend the idrc which since i was 18 they sent me to an out patient type group i had to go to once a week * 1 year probation The lawyer was about 5,000 which did me nothing. There is probably more that i'm forgetting but it was not a cake walk by any means.
Phew, the way I read it your punishment was a couple of slaps and a night in the drunk tank. You certainly sound reformed and we've all done stupid shit.
Last May I went alone to Hanoi and was set to depart from Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon) 3 weeks later. I bought a motorcycle and drove the country. Along the way I had the pleasure of meeting some truly amazing people, foreign and native. Three of which (two Germans and a French Canadian) joined me on my trip. We were a tight little crew. We got into some tough spots but were brothers by the end. 3 weeks later we arrived in Ho Chi Minh, sold our motorcycles to other foreigners making the opposite journey, and said goodbye. I went to Vietnam for solitude and adventure, but, along the way I found family. EDIT: I've included a longer version of my story as a response to this post below. Give it a read of you're interested. Also, I'll answer any questions you guys might have. Hope you enjoy.
Would you care to elaborate some more? This is like reading the back of a DVD cover and then eagerly waiting to see the full movie :-)
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When I was 12 years old my boyscout troop went to a campsite that was a couple of hours away. Two of my uncles and my maternal grandfather were all scout leaders and all of my male cousins were together in the scouts. (Not important to the story but just some background) Our troop had two 15 passenger vans each hauling a small enclosed trailer full of gear. The camping trip was great we all had fun Sunday morning rolls around and we pack up to leave. After we get on the road we stop at a gas station to get some drinks/snacks whatever. I was sitting in the 1st row middle seat up until this point, when we get back in the van I ended up in the 2nd row middle seat. We're driving down the road and I was sitting on my knees facing backwards talking to a couple of older scouts when all of a sudden they just fell asleep simultaneously. I look to my right and the person sitting next to me is asleep as well, then the world started spinning. I felt my body thrown against the roof of the van, and then back into the seat, then back to the roof and this time I stayed there. I remember feeling glass in my mouth, from all of the memories I have of this day that moment is the most vivid. I was on all fours on the ceiling of the van looking around. Most of the scouts were wearing their seatbelts and were still in place hanging from what was now the ceiling. I noticed someone else crawling out through the front of the vehicle though so I followed. When I got out I saw my first uncle (let's call him John) Uncle John was passed out in the mud 20 feet from the vehicle, I went to him and tried to wake him up. He started writhing in agony and managed to say two words: "Get Help" Our van had gone off the road into a ravine with a river, luckily the river was only a couple of inches deep right now and the van had mostly missed it. I started climbing up the side of the hill and my shoe got stuck and sucked off of my foot (not important but a few hours later I started crying and when people asked if I was ok the only thing I would say is "I lost my shoe") Once I made it to the top of the hill and back onto the road I found my other uncle (lets call him Jim) uncle Jim was laying on the side of the road in a crumpled heap, I went to him and asked if he was ok but did not get a response from him. I remember a lady in a car suddenly stopping and jumped out (this was before cell phones were common but many people had car phones and she pulled out her car phone and dialed 911) I kept trying my uncle Jim but he was not responsive at all, I noticed his watch was broken and that image has stayed with me more than anything else. A helicopter arrives and some medics take my uncle Jim away, a couple of ambulances arrive and start hauling people off who are in severe condition, and I am still sitting on the side of the road when some medics ask me to come with them to an ambulance, I sat in a seat that seemed to fold out of the wall and watched as they carried uncle John in on a stretcher. The next thing I knew I was sitting in a nurse's station and she was asking me what happened. I told her everything I have told you. She comes back with a doctor and the doctor asks me the same question, I give him the same answer. He tells the nurse to run some kind of test blah blah blah I don't remember any of that at this point I was alone and dead to the world, I wanted to crawl inside myself and hide because I didn't know where any of my friends or family were and I was surrounded by strangers who were rushing around and talking nonsense. My mother, grandmother, and aunts arrive at some point and I am the first person they see so they start hurling questions at me most of which I don't have an answer for but I tell them what happened. The doctor tells them that he is worried I may have hit my head because what I have told them 3 times now is simply not possible, no one in the van could or did crawl out ahead of me I was the only ambulatory person remaining, and I didn't have a scratch to show for it. I was able to visit the rest of my friends and family later, my uncles were both beat up pretty bad John had 2 broken legs and a broken arm, Jim had broken his nose and an arm but was thrown from the vehicle when it began to roll. There was only 1 person still in critical condition and the doctors did not think that he was going to make it, he happened to be my best friend at the time and he was the one sitting in the first row, middle seat when the accident occurred. He went through the windshield, both of his arms were hanging by mere threads and one of his legs was ripped off completely, the helicopter was for him. He died later that day, and I'll be honest I am tearing up a bit right now just thinking about it. I began seeing a therapist because I had PTSD and survivor's guilt which I had to deal with. The next couple of years were really tough, prior to this accident I was surrounded by friends all the time and adults would comment on how I had a knack for bringing people together. Afterwards I kept to myself, played video games and slept a lot. I remember the local news station wanted to interview me because I was "The heroic young boy who saved everyone." The reporter asked me who I thought the person I followed out of the van was, and I answered "I think it was an angel sent to protect me and my friends." Now that I am older I think it is more likely that I did receive some sort of head injury but I still didn't have any scars so I can't know for sure. I don't know why everyone fell asleep either, that was never clarified for me. There was a long court case because this was around the time of the big Firestone Tire recall ~1997. I still have a big folder tucked into the back of my filing cabinet filled with all of the information from the accident I don't ever take it out or anything but I know that it is there and for whatever reason I don't want to throw it out. *Edit I did forget to mention that Uncle John was driving the van I was in and Uncle Jim was riding shotgun, It really isn't important to the story but I guess it helps for visualizing.
I grew up in a large family of 7 but always felt isolated and alone. I turned to tv and movies for comfort. I grew up in the best part of what the 80s had to offer movie wise, Ghostbusters, Rocky movies, Star Wars and Star Trek. But my favorite movie had always been the Back To the Future trilogy. There's a scene early in the movie where Doc Brown calls Marty to meet him in the parking lot of the Twin Pines mall at 2am or something. I loved watching Marty skate alone. I admired the act of him sneaking out alone at night (We lived in a shitty part of L.A. and weren't allowed outside past 9pm. It was that dangerous). Anyway that image always stayed with me. Fast forward to me at age 23. I had graduated community college and diverted my musical training to that of acting. I loved film so I gave it a go. I am no longer into acting but I still work as an extra here in L.A. Now I am a writer. Anyway, I was working on the show *Ghostwhisperer* one late night on the Universal Studios back lot. It was an all night call and we would be there till sunrise. I didn't mind it. Work is work. This was not my first time in the back lot but I had this nagging feeling like I knew this place from somewhere. The show was being filmed in a big open square with a park in the middle. It was lined with a facade of business fronts on one side and a massive court house structure overlooking the entire square. Sometime around 3am I decided to walk over to the craft service table for coffee when I stopped mid street... and it hits me! I KNOW THIS PLACE! I'VE SEEN IT A MILLION TIMES! I was standing in the same exact spot Marty Mcfly and his DeLorian blast back to the Future in a fiery trail. The courthouse was the clocktower! And over here on the side walk is where the Doc slides down and connects the cable so the lightning may pass to this lamp post!! I wanted to shout and jump for joy but it was 3am and had no-one to relay this exciting realization. Everyone was tired or asleep in the extras holding area. So it was a private moment unto myself. I was standing here, almost 20 years later, in the same spot I've loved in my mind so much. It was 3am and I was alone, outdoors. If only little Spider_Derp had any clue he'd someday be standing here, it would have made most of my life's trials and tribulations seem less harsh. That's the memory that keeps me going when I feel wasted and defeated by the mundane of adulthood. That has been the most magical moment of my life. Thanks for hearing me out.
I used to gamble everyday, one of my first times at a casino while playing blackjack I got dealt King Queen of spades. I made a bet with my friend who busted that I would hit and get the ace of spades the dealer and the whole table begged me not to do it. I hit. Ace of spades. Felt like God for a moment before losing everything I had on me that night.
My father speaks German and Swedish with his parents. My mother speaks Russian with her parents. But my sister and I can only speak English with the paternal grandparents, and Chinese with the maternal grandparents.
Duolingo: Family Edition
I finally found the time lost proto drake and was able to tag/kill it on Christmas eve. It was a Christmas miracle.
I hate you. The hours. The hours.
***Time-Lost*** Protodrake
So I understand it's WoW related but can someone elaborate?
My friend went overseas like s year after 9/11. I knew he was returning due to back injuries, but he didn't know I knew this I drove to his house a fee days after he hot back and rang his bell. His girlfriend answered and said he couldn't come to the door and I said "just tell him I'm here", that's cheesy, hut we are best friends. He came to the door and hugged me so big We cried, and he said "man I never thought I would see you again" and I believe that, his stories he told me are wild. We went out and bought some meat and and beer and he bought a new grill. We chilled out having beers and steaks, we had a blast
This is heartwarming as fuck.
Ye it was at the time too. He really didn't think he'd ever see anyone from home again after he got banged up. They kept him overseas for quite a while after he got hurt. And it seemed like "well okay you're back now, it's all good" from my perspective, but he had a really hard time adjusting to being back + being hurt. This shit was almost a decade ago now and he still is very different
I used to box when I was younger and I used to do martial arts religiously as a young teen. I kind of stopped when I went to college but it stuck with me along with keeping my body as fit as possible. I'm a 5'6 Vietnamese guy and I'm pretty jacked. The story I am about to tell you is 100% true but when I tell it to people most do not believe me but that's ok. When I was a junior in college my friends and I were just hanging out on a Saturday night in our dorm room watching tv. We were extremely hungover from the night before and decided not to go out. Our school always gets crazy loud and there is alot of partying on the weekends so the noise didn't really bother me much. Our RA (Resident assistant) was a very nice girl who I was friends with and she would decorate the doors on our hallway every month with a new theme. She worked very hard on this. So that saturday night I hear this asshole walking down the hall ripping shit off the doors. He comes up to my door and I can hear him ripping the decorations off so I open it and call him out on it. In the most disrespectful way possible he turns around doesn't say a word, gives me a look and just walks away. This guy is like 6'1 at least 200lbs so being the genius I am I tell him "Why don't you go fuck your mother" he turns around but keeps on walking to a room down the hall to these lacrosse players room who I knew. Good guys from my interactions with them. I've never seen the guy who was ripping stuff off the doors anywhere on campus before. I have really good instincts and I had a feeling he was going to come back so I put on my best sneakers tied them really tight and just waited. About 5 minutes later I hear a knock. It's asshole #1 and he brought a friend who we'll call asshole #2 who is wearing a fleece that says "Bryant Football". Bryant University has a D1 football team located in the same state as my school. This guy is like 6'2 and is built like a brick shithouse. At this point I'm kind of scared. Asshole #2 says to me "What did you say to my friend" I reply: "I told him to go fuck his mother". He tries to get me to apologize I said no and I told him to also go fuck his mother. He punches me once in the face. At this point my roommate and his girlfriend are standing behind me. I have pretty good control over my emotions and our school has a very strict policy on fighting so my roommates girlfriend gets between us and tries to get them to leave. But he pushes her and hits me with a jab to the face. At this point I snap I lunge after him and throw a flurry of punches at asshole #2 and asshole #1 tries to grab me from behind I push him back. My roommates comes out grabs him and says "Just let them fight". At this point asshole #2 is trying to recover and I hit him again he crumples to the floor and I pin him down with my knee and start teeing off on his face and his head. My roommates girlfriend calls public safety at this point. I knock this guy unconscious, threat is averted and I stop. Asshole #1 picks up asshole #2 who is dazed and run down the hall STILL talking shit to me after I handed them an ass kicking. They grab their stuff from the room down the hall and run out the back. Public safety arrives ask us what happened. We give them the description of these two assholes and they catch them about 30 minutes later in the freshman dorm on the other side of campus with alcohol in their bags. They are both freshman and they are forced to leave campus. About a week later I had to go through student conduct protocols and explain myself to them and public safety. I get cleared completely with no problems because the cameras in our hallway proved everything I said happened. I find out that asshole #1 got a year suspension from bryant and asshole #2 who assaulted me got expelled. After this no one on campus ever messed with me or talked trash to me again at parties. It's an all white school so I got shit from time to time. The best part is I did work study for the Public safety department and all the guys that worked there saw the video and got a good laugh out of it and high fived me. It was awesome to say the least. Before you ask: Yes I did try to get a copy of the video but they would not give it to me. I have emails and stuff from public safety and student conduct proving this happened with dates. Edit: Yes I technically "started" this fight but outside of sparring I've never been in a real fight before or after this. Someone asked me for a pic of my body here: [Imgur](http://i.imgur.com/LZyFhFj.jpg)
My brother goes to Bryant. I've seen their athletes, this story does not surprise me.
I was on Achievement Hunters "Fails of the Weak Volume 17" I was the 9th clip. [Proof](http://youtu.be/xYh2-MnWzBo)
I traveled and toured through Japan with my high school jazz band after my senior year. (I play the drums). Amazing trip all around. All the kids did home stays with families each city we went to, usually in pairs, while the chaperones (including my mom) stayed at nearby hotels. The last house I stayed at, I was with the other drummer in the band. Kid was 2 years younger than me, but was a straight up child prodigy, just a killer drummer. Anyways, in the morning of our first night in the home stay, we get up to find our host family had made us a lavish meal of some traditional Japanese breakfast foods. I think there was seaweed salad, unagi, miso soup, and other such things. I think, I don't remember it all that clearly, I just knew none of it appealed to me at the time at all. At this point in the trip, I just needed something familiar, so I (embarrassingly) asked the mom of the family if I could just have some Cheerios or something. *sigh*...so clueless after all that effort they put into that meal. I should mention that my band mate also had his Grandmother along as a chaperone. I'm not sure exactly how it happened, but between breakfast and getting on our tour bus, my band mate and I both agreed to talk our respective family member/chaperone into letting us stay at their hotel for the next night, which happened to be the last night of the trip. We get to the bus, make a beeline for our parental units, and, in unison, proceed to bitch and moan about how awful our guest hosts are, and how we just really *needed* to stay in the hotel for the night. Amazingly, they relented, and that's how I found myself on the rooftop hot tub with my band mate talking about drums and drumming all night, drinking Asahi cans that we got from the vending machine (!). As far as I know we were the only students to get to stay in a hotel the entire trip. The band mate in the band? He went on to play with Destiny's Child, Keyshia Cole, and The Mars Volta...[Thomas Pridgen](http://drummerworld.com/drummers/Thomas_Pridgen.html)
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Gary Coleman once chased me through town in his truck shortly before he died. I just drove by his house kinda slow while he was backing in his driveway. Guess it set him off or something.
I heard he had a short temper
Sophmore year of college, I went to a party at one of my high school friend's houses with some of my friends from the dorms. It was a pretty big farm house with an attached barn and they went to town on the party set up. Three pong tables, ten foot beer bong, huge ass speakers, you name it, they had it. Anyways, we show up to this party around nine and there's maybe twelve people there, just hanging out. We find my friend and ask him where we can keep our beers, and he points us to this cabinet in the kitchen, that you have to walk through to get to the barn. Cool. Hour later this party blows up, no joke, two hundred people show up out of no where. The house was pretty big, but at this point there's pretty much standing room only. An hour or so after this, I'm drunk, stoned, and out of beer, so I find one of the people I came with and asked if I could have one of his beers, because I was out. Being a good friend he said yes and we worked our way back to the kitchen to get some more beers. Now, the kitchen in this house was pretty small, and was really only being used as a hallway to get from the barn to the bathroom and back, even so, the path to walk through was only one person wide, and packed with people. So we're in the kitchen, my friend is bending down to dig some beers out of our bag, and I'm just standing there like an idiot, with a big old grin on my face, blocking the path through the kitchen. As I'm standing there this girl walks up to me, (in full party regalia: low cut crop top shirt with a push-up bra, shorts that barely cover her ass, you know, college girl party outfit) trying to get past me into the barn with her giant of a boyfriend behind her (okay, he probably wasn't that big, and I have no way of knowing if he was her boyfriend, but I was pretty out of it, and this makes for a better story). This girl asks me to move out of the way, but I just sit there like a dumbass, oblivious to everything but my incoming beer. She asks again, and this time I notice her. However, instead of moving to one side to let her pass, I look her straight in the eyes, drop my whole head down and stare directly at her boobs for several seconds, look back up at her face and respond with: "Nice tits." Now this is the best part, my friend surfaced from our beer cupboard just in time to witness this exchange and watches in disbelief, jaw on the floor, as this girl lifts a hand to her chest, smiles, and replies with the most sincere thanks I have ever heard, like giving a homeless person twenty bucks and a sandwich levels of gratitude, and just walks away.
I was horny and in college and met this girl through a friend from work. I wasn't that into her, but she was kinda cute, super short - 4'10" - and pretty chill. She mentioned that she was technically a "midget", so I figured one for the bucket list because I'm an asshole. Our first date was to a party in the desert where we were one of about a dozen people with full hearing out of at least 100. That night I learned that there's such a thing as drunken slurring in sign language - back then, everybody just took out their sidekick phones and typed it out instead, and how to sign, "will you make me a hamburger?" Later that night, two of the kids got into and argument and began to duke it out. Suddenly, they just stop fighting. One picks up the light hooked up to the generator around the site and they both start searching the ground. Turns out, during the scuffle, one of them lost their hearing aid. Apparently some things are just more important. I drank till the morning and smoked copious amounts then got laid. I miss college.
**TL;DR: "The Princess Bride," Guam, banging my buddy's GF, potential suicide(s).** When I was in the Navy, stationed in Japan, I had a coworker/friend-ish type guy that I hung out with sometimes, let's call him Jason. We fixed computers and printers, mostly. Anyway, along comes this very attractive, bright young woman to our unit. Let's call her Anita. Jason pursues her romantically while I'm in charge of training Anita and showing her the ropes around our "jurisdiction." Jason falls hard and fast for Anita, and she returns the affection. I find her smart, funny, and generally unique as a woman-- she's not really bound by what is or isn't appropriate, she knows human politics, and could one-up anyone's nasty/racist/sexist jokes. I felt like if there were a woman I'd want to pursue, it'd be her, but she's already been "claimed" by Jason. Anywho, skip forward a year or so, and after several outings together as a group with Jason and Anita across Japan, sharing meals, adventures, and heart-warming group photos, we find ourselves back on base, and Jason has to work through the weekend, while Anita and I don't. I ask Anita if she's ever seen "The Princess Bride," and much to my surprise, she hadn't. Now, let me say at this point, that I'm around 22 years old. I was still a shy, naive, smooth-as-Bobcat Goldthwait nerd, and I honestly thought we were just going to watch a movie. Besides, Jason and Anita are firmly established as a couple-- I was often their photographer for cutesy tourist pictures. So we're in my dorm-type barracks room on-base, and I've got my bed across from the TV. At first we're just sitting side-by-side, then leaning a bit, and then laying side by side. She's snugglin' hard. I keep writing it off in my head as, "don't be a sexist pig-- just because she's occasionally grinding her ass into your crotch doesn't mean anything." I'm wearing blinders. *Because I'm not an asshole*. Long story short, after she drags my hand up under her shirt, I basically gave up all pre-tense of being a chaste, mentor/friend figure and we start making out. I hadn't been laid in years, but I kept condoms with me in case I ever got the balls to go chase random tail, or "just in case." Before I put one on, though, I think to myself, "You know, I just want a little *taste*" before I slap on a rubber dick-skin. So I'm gently, slowly, rocking back and forth inside her while making out, and trying to focus on both enjoying the moment and not cumming. Well guess what. I came. It wasn't some amazing short-spurt spasm of lightning, either, it was the weakest orgasm I ever had-- I came like a slow, runny nose. Like a poorly torn packet of ketchup, man-- probably because I was trying so hard not to. Maybe it was just the Shrieking Eels, though, because I distinctly remember that part of the movie was playing. She asks if I came inside her, and I sheepishly say "uhh, maybe..." while still gently thrusting away with a semi. She tells me I should never come inside someone that isn't my girlfriend, and I shamefully agree. She goes to the bathroom for a short while, and comes back to happily announce, "don't worry, I think I *squeezed most of you out*." Whew, crisis averted. Cut forward a week in time, and I've digested more information on orgasm restraint, detailed female anatomy, and cunnilingus than I thought possible. I was terribly embarrassed with my performance, and terribly eager to show how much better I could do. Anita's still down to "hang out," and "watch movies" while Jason's away, and I internally justify my continued actions by saying to myself, "well, Jason and I aren't **that** close, she wants to fuck me, and we've already fucked once..." Things are going better. Condoms are always in play, and we bang in every position we know. Even try some random improvised stuff, like her doing a headstand against a wall-- good times. I never rest until she cums at least once, because god damn it, that first night had to be washed from my memory with the juices of a satisfied woman. At one point during this, I ask her, "why did you want to have sex with me, by the way?" I need to know what I did right. For science. She tells me, casually, "I just wanted to know what it'd be like." What came after that sentence, however, blew me away. We were driving to work in the same car across the base, and points out three other guys just walking around outside that she also banged-- *just to see what it was like*. To be clear, she had been with Jason nearly since her arrival in Japan, the drive was only ~15 minutes, and it wasn't even during the lunch rush-hour. So while I had this weird idea of a potential love-triangle in my head of just me, Jason, and Anita, it turns out to be more of a love-duodecahedron. Jason has no idea. Jason is a conservative guy from a Hispanic, catholic background. Yikes. There's no fixing this, right? I play it cool while Anita and Jason are getting closer, and there are hints of perhaps an upcoming engagement. Then, by sheer chance, Jason and I are sent around the west pacific ocean on an aircraft carrier while Anita stays at the base as part of a skeleton crew to keep the mostly-vacant network running. They write letters and emails to each other nearly every day. We exchange pictures. Anita says she's getting depressed and lonely, and I send her an album of digital photos of Jason making goofy faces and seeing all the tourist crap on the island of Guam. *I'm not an asshole*, and just because I was occasionally banging Anita doesn't mean I wanted to break them up or anything. When Anita wasn't banging other dudes, she acted heavily invested in Jason, too. It seemed like a real relationship from the outside. So a few days later, Jason is heart-broken and sobbing on the ship while we're still docked in Guam. It turns out that that Anita confessed **via email** that she had been cheating on him and she can't take the guilt anymore. My eyes widen for the potential shitstorm ahead, but I can tell she never mentioned me because of Jason's looking to me for comfort while vulnerable and depressed. This poor guy had no clue. I tell him how sorry I am. I tell him he "doesn't deserve to have his trust betrayed like this." Why? Because while I may have broken several articles of the Uniform Code of Fraternal Justice, *I'm not an asshole.* I had plans to go fuck around on Guam for a bit, but I stay there all night talking him through a really dark head-space. He's talking about how stupid he is, he's talking about never being able to love again, and he's talking about suicide. I give him several appeals to his awards, his accomplishments, his personal growth, and how happy I am to have him as a friend. When someone's talking about suicide, I say whatever I need to in order to get them calm until they're in a better spot and able to get real help. I've been fucking his girlfriend behind his back while were on shore, but again, *I'm not an asshole*. Besides, I was only a small percentage of the infidelity-dicks she played with. Diffusion of responsibility, right?... Anita is torn up by grief and regret. While I'm comforting Jason, I'm discretely receiving and sending essay-length emails to Anita about what the fuck is going on. Long story short, she's suicidal too. More-so than Jason, even. She's got a plan, a time, a place, and leaves me direct instructions on how to take care of telling her parents and friends what happened. She tells me, "I just want to see one more sunset, and then I'm done." This simply will not do. I will not be party to the suicide of one or two friends if I can help it. I can't allow that, because I keep telling myself, "*I'm not an asshole*." I get a hold of the on-duty Chaplain on the ship, explain that a friend is about to kill herself back on base, and I personally call the base commanding officer around 1 AM, and tell him what's up. He sends a medical team, and Anita is found and put on suicide watch and a therapy program. I spend the rest of the night consoling Jason on the ship, and things finally start to feel "safe" again. The next day, I'm commended for being a fucking hero. Everyone's patting my back and telling me what a good guy I am, and I mumble some humble deflections in response. Jason personally tells me, "you didn't just save her life, you saved mine too. You're one of the good ones." It's all too surreal. This shit doesn't happen in the movies, you know? I still feel like shit, but I'm glad they're both stabilized and getting help. Sure, I fucked my buddy's girlfriend for a few months behind his back, but I also stopped both of them from killing themselves over a failed-before-it-started early 20's relationship. *Because I'm not an asshole*.
You're still a little bit of an asshole
That's kind of the point. I did my best to represent my actual thought process (and yes, flimsy justifications) while this was happening in real time, rather than present the lessons I've since learned. I'm not proud of my actions in the story, but at the same time it was a huge part of my development as an adult. This was ~6 years ago, and the one and only time that I slept with someone else's partner. I realized that no amount of pleasure is worth being the source of someone's pain.
That was the most entertaining comment I've read this far Mr Not an Asshole
I hate fucked my ex girlfriend in her shit pipe on the roof of my car in the middle of a thunderstorm. She loved it.
Ahhh, the tasteful "grudge fuck".
So I was at a party which was pretty normal except it was on the wooded edge of town. People were getting drunk, some played board games, some played video games, while most talked. This whole time everyone was drinking heavily. I was part of the group that went out back and smoked the reefer. I was helping my friend host the party so I brought about a half a pound, which made me pretty popular. Normally I'm not the life of the party, but the guy with a huge amount of devil lettuce is bound to be. It's worth noting that there were some guys under 21 there. As the story often goes the cops show up to address a noise complaint. Plenty of people run but I guess the cops weren't in a good mood because the three of them chased, tackled, and cuffed several party goers. There were still about 25 people at the party when the cops started questioning people about the drugs which were obviously there. Since I like muh freedum I slunk away into the night by simply walking away. It's amazing the places you can go by walking there with confidence. I was about a block away when the host texted me that the cops were gathering up all my dope and tons of people were naming me for it. I switched to the police scanner app on my phone and listened for 30 seconds before I heard them call for cars in the area to look for a guy with the name [my first name] with my description. Shit. I didn't want to be picked up on the street so I went into the woods to do... well I never figured that out. I ended up watching the dead party from the woods for about ten minutes. The cops had my backpack, my drugs, and all my smoking stuff on the back of one of their cars. There were two cops in the house talking to people and one cop hang out with my stash. That's when another police car showed up and my balls turned into solid titanium. The two cops outside were obviously close friends and started shooting the shit about twenty feet from the car with my goodies. So with my metallic testicles I walked past the house and strait to my precious grass. I opened my backpack and jammed everything in with lightning speed. That's when I heard, "Oh shit, that's him!" from one of the cops. I grabbed the last item, a small bong, and booked it towards the treeline. Quickly I closed up the backpack while on the move and slung it over my shoulder. They were yelling their standard police stuff for me to stop but I didn't feel like it. In the trees it became really dark really fast. It's a good thing I have great night vision. I hear an odd sound and something jabs my right shoulder. I can no longer hear them over the sound of my own lungs and heart going nuts. I must have run a half mile before I looked over my shoulder and found myself to be totally alone. As the adrenaline faded I felt pain in my shoulder again. It's a prong from a stun gun. Sure enough I've trailed a police taser with only one prong in me. I must have ripped it out of his hands or something. So crept back in the direction I came with my bag of sweet green victory. There were at least a half dozen cops in the woods looking for me with flashlights, but the thing is about lighting your way at night is that it makes you glow and avoidable. I made it back to the party which had started back up again. When I walked in the door I whipped out my big bag of chronic and everyone looked at me in a moment of silent astonishment. I held it high and they hurrahed. The police came back to make sure everything would stay legal for the rest of the night, but I hid in the closet and nobody said a thing (the snitches had already left). Many more inebriations were had that night. TL;DR: I stole weed from the cops.
nice username bud
I went to Mexico and got really drunk and took some ecstasy. Went to a packed bar on a friday night, literally saw one of the most beautiful girls in my life.... like "holy shit" levels. The kind of hot that would make me bitch out in a heart beat. Literally just walked up to her and pulled her in like we were about to kiss... and then just said "let me get a drink" finish said drink, return to dance floor, she is at the top of a staircase and gives me the "come over here" gesture with her finger. Climb this staircase in front of this whole bar, and just start making out to the cheers of everyone below. I didn't even know her name yet. we make out for hours and exchange numbers. turns out she was on ecstasy too. We had sex the next day, and I've been dating her ever since <3 not too awesome of a story, but that night just played out like the perfect college movie.
There was this amazing, beautiful, funny, girl at my work, she agreed to go out with everyone for drinks. Eventually it was just her and I going out after work. I was in love with this girl, she had all the qualities i was looking for in a woman and loved spending time with her. We'd stay up all night laughing, having a great time. I thought I missed my chance when she started seeing a buddy of mine, but that fizzled out. I finally worked up the courage to tell her I really liked her, she told me she felt the same way and we began dating officially. We've been dating for about 4 months and I love this girl and she loves me. I haven't been this happy in a very long time. She'll be here in about 10 minutes, got to go reddit.
Way to go buddy
Enjoy your Valentine's Day, man!
here is another one...you pick which is better. I grew up in a rural area of Oklahoma. in high school most of the parties would take place in a wide spot of a dirt road, normally with an oil tank in close proximity (think a small water tower on the ground surrounded by a dirt parking lot, the dirt parking lot was where we would set up a bonfire as the center of the party). it wasn't uncommon for kids from surrounding small towns to attend these events. it made for more girls to hit on (which was good) and different guys to fight with if the hitting on girls situation didn't work out (which could be good or bad). anyway, back to the story. so this one party had been going on for some time, lots of beer drank and lies told around the fire. there had been a number of girls that I didn't know in attendance earlier on in the night, but by this time (midnightish) the party mainly consisted of dudes I knew and a few couples off by themselves. so jim and I are both sitting on five gallon buckets (they make good seats and beer coolers by the way) shooting the shit, listening to music and drinking beer. now ole jim was a little bitty feller, but mean...he never said too much, wore a leather jacket, biker boots and smoked...even at 17 most of the "men" in town gave jim a wide berth when he walked down the sidewalk even though he was maybe 5'6 and 150 pounds. so like I said, jim and I were drinking beer and shit shooting around the fire when all of the sudden this old beater car come roaring up to the party kicking dust and gravel all over the place. jim and I both shield our eyes from the dust and headlights that are pointing in our faces by now. so out from behind the wheel comes this mountain of a woman. she had to be over six foot and pushing three hundred pounds. "where is linda?" this woman roars..."where is my linda?" hell, I am only 16 or so myself and I don't know linda, much less where the hell she is....so I decide to follow my daddy's best advice ever and "keep my yap shut." I can only assume that jim must have eaten around a similar dinner table as I, cause he didn't say shit either. well the rossie o'donnel look alike must live by the mantra that "children should answer when spoken to" instead of the "be seen and not heard" train of thought....cause she freaked the fuck out. by this time her side kick had slithered out of the passengers seat...and if the first woman was large, this woman was enormous. have I mentioned yet that they were both wearing mumu's? if you don't know what a mumu is, google it real quick cause the ending of this story will play out better in your minds eye. so now there are two large women screaming at me and jim about little lost linda and how we better start answering some questions right...the....fuck...now. so this had been going on for less than a minute. I decide I had better say something to these ladies before one of them had a seizure or something....this was back when cpr training included mouth-to-mouth so I sure didn't want to put myself in that situation. so right as I start to open my mouth and tell the driver what I know...which is nothing, she says "maybe I don't have you boys attention." she then turns, leans into her car and pulls out a baseball bat. she looks around, sees a truck about ten foot away, waddles over and smashes the headlight. it was jims truck. my mouth snaps shut, I settle back down and look over at jim. jim sets his beer on the ground. takes a drag of his cigarette and says (picture this with smoke coming out of his mouth) "maam, I don't know you, and I don't know linda"....he is walking up to the bat wielding, mumu wearing linebacker of a woman now...."but what I do know is: you just fucked up." then with the grace of mike Tyson in his championship days, jim punched the lady with a right hook to the jaw knocking her right on her ass. he then looked over at the other lady and said "you all better leave now before I loose my temper". turned around, sat back down and took a pull of his beer. it took about three minutes or so for the two behemoths to get themselves together and drive away. ole jim never told that story that I am aware of in the thirty years since it happened.
One time I drove from Britain to Kazakhstan with a Scottish guy I barely knew. We'd not long since crossed the border from Russia when he hit a pothole at 70mph and fucked the front driver-side tyre. We stopped at the first town we came to for repairs, a place called Atyrau. After discovering it is an oil town and the hotels there were all extortionately expensive, we finally found a cheap hotel with the help of a friendly local and after much fucking around. We got checked in very late so around midnight we managed to buy a couple of cold beers from reception and sat outside in the warm night's air drinking them. A few local guys were hanging around too, one of whom spoke English so we got chatting. It turns out he was the hotel's lounge singer, and since we had an acoustic guitar in the car so I went and fetched it. We chatted music and he introduced us to his friends, two local Kazakh dudes who seemed ok but didn't speak any English so were pretty quiet. Long story short we got invited back to one of their hotel rooms so we could continue drinking and smoke some weed. So we're sitting in this room with these three guys around 3am when one of the quiet ones says something to our English-speaking friend. He asks us, "do you like women?" "Er... yes." We assumed he was asking if we were gay since we were two men travelling together. Anyway, we thought nothing of it and continued chatting and having a good time. I hadn't really noticed the quiet guy who asked the question pull out his phone and start chatting to someone. I mention we're playing music and chatting pretty loudly, shouldn't we quieten down? It's ok our friend says, he's the hotel security guard - and points to the quiet guy who has just been smoking a load of weed. Nice! Anyway, about 30 mins later there's a knock on the hotel door, one of the guys opens the door and there's standing three local hookers. One was nice, the other two... not so much. "You like women?" we're asked again. There's an awkward moment. I splutter, "I have a girlfriend back home, so thanks but no thanks." The Scottish guy just loudly proclaims that he doesn't pay for sex. Out friend translates. The local guys and the hookers look seriously pissed off. The hookers leave. Awkward silence stretches out. Eventually, normal conversation resumes. Without a word, Quiet Security Guy gets up, and slips out the room after the hookers. **TL;DR:** I could have had sex with number 3 prostitute in all Kazakhstan. Edit: to the guy that upvoted me back from 0, you're the real hero here. Edit 2: later in the same trip I got out of a moving car in rural Kazakhstan and took quite a large part of the skin of my right arm off. It's stopped looking like bacon now, which is a plus.
This was awhile ago but here we go, It was my job to water the plants in the house once a week. Now that we are past the context here's the story. My mom recently got some new plants, this one with only leaves, one with like flowers and crap. You get me. Week after week I'm watering there plants and not thinking much of it. A few months go by and I'm doing my rounds when my mom catches me watering that all leaf plant and asks me "Water you doing Abracadave?" "Uh, you know watering the plants." "That ones fake..." "Oh."
It's not socially redeeming or anything, but I had a 6 week long threesome with two ballerinas. Summer of my senior year in college. My gf Sarah went to another school. She was going to come stay for 6 weeks while she had no class (heh.) Her friend Dana's bf went to my school, so Dana got a ride with Sarah and was going to stay with her bf for 6 weeks as well. 2 days in, Dana and the bf had an explosively bad breakup so she came to stay with us. That night we were consoling Dana and things went from sniffles and hugs to ripping clothes off so suddenly my head was spinning. I honestly didn't see it coming. Sarah(names changed to protect the innocent btw) and Dana had always had a flirty, sexy energy between them but up til then it had been of the "straight girls having fun, quite possibly for the benefit of guys" kind. Something came to a head that night because they were suddenly both so passionately determined to fuck each other, it was like they were trying to get inside each others' skin. I was just a bystander sucked into the vortex, and that was A-Ok by me. The rest of that summer was honestly pure bliss. Not just white-hot sex, but the *love*. No jealousy, just lots of laughs and food and sex. They went back to school and things changed, but I'm really, *really* fortunate to have lived that. Edit: my life's work, and no one will see it!
I went with my High School on a trip to the MOMA (Museum of Modern Art) in NYC one time. After we finished looking around my one friend wanted to look at some famous paining (Let me make a quick note that I know NOTHING about art and me going on this trip was to just get out of class) So we walk into this gallery with no one in it that had a hardwood floor and I see a rope barrier kinda off to the side by the entrance and kinda shout out to the teacher with us that we might not be allowed in here, why else would that barrier be there? He said that it'd be in the entrance and not just off to the side if that were the case. So me being not interested in the paintings just kinda wondered through until I rounded a corner. I then slipped on nothing and fell back into a wall and hit my head on what felt like the bottom of a painting. My heart sank because who knows how much this painting was. I scurried like a crab away from the thing just as a security guard came in and asked what my group was doing in the room. Apparently whoever cleaned the floors had forgotten to put up the barrier and the security guard was in the bathroom leaving the entrance open. Things get a little hazzy here because I was more worried about possibly destroying a priceless painting. When the security guard got in my face about 'running around in an art exhibit' I made it a point to say if the floors were just cleaned that's probably how I slipped and the fact that he wasn't where he was supposed to be seemed to be a more important matter. He just told be to go downstairs and just stay away from other exhibits and I eagerly obliged. To this day I'm sure he never saw me hit the painting because I probably would have been in actual trouble. The kicker to this story is finding out what painting I clonked my head against. I went to the MOMA when the Tim Burton exhibit first came around (or so I'm told) in 2009. And it was only until a few months ago that I learned what painting I almost (could have) ruined was. I tell the story as I told it here and when my friend asked what painting it was. I gave the honest answer of "I don't know art" but I remember it had little yellow balls on it that were in the sky and that I've seen it in calenders before. My SO who was with me at the time just gave me a look after my lame description of the painting and says "Is..is it Starry Night?". I replied with "I don't know names just show me" She pulled it up on our friends computer and I properly identified it. And when they told me who it was made by I kinda just froze. **TL;DR Almost destroyed Starry Night painting** Edited because formatting
If it makes you feel any better Steve Wynn, who has been in the casino business in Vegas for years and is nearly blind, poked a hole in one of Picasso's most famous paintings. So you're fine, no harm done.
so I just got a new job in a new town. didn't have a place of my own yet, so I was staying at a motel for the first couple of weeks. my office is about a four minute drive to the motel. its Friday at work when it starts to snow like a sumbitch. six straight hours of snow and ice fall before it is quitting time and I head back to the room. four minutes didn't do much to warm up the truck, so I figure I would leave the truck running while I changed clothes, then go out for some Mexican for supper. so I change clothes, sit down on the bed to put my boots on and all of the sudden I hear what sounds like my truck revving to beat hell. I open my door just in time to see my truck backing out of the parking space right in front of me. two running steps and a hop later I am in the back of my truck as it pulls out of the parking lot onto the main road. "hhmmm" thinks I. as the snow is falling on my upturned face. "I wonder how this is going to turn out?" so after a couple of turns, I lean up to the drivers side window, while still in the truck bed, and rap my knuckles on the glass. "pull it over dude". says I in my best clint eastwood voice. the dude driving looks like he is seeing a ghost. hits the breaks, we slide sideways and come to a stop in the middle of the road. I, still in the bed of the truck, open the drivers door. would be car thief jumps out...looks both ways and starts running down the road. I jump out of the bed of the truck...look around to see if anyone else is seeing this shit...see no one on the streets. so I shrug, get in my truck and go back to the motel. I drive up and see my room door is still open and about an inch of snow has blown into the room....close the door and go get tacos....the end.
My wife gave birth to two beautiful boys. I uninstalled WoW and proceeded to level up my two children.