Maggie’s This One Time at Band Camp (Tales of Youth and Indiscretion)

[myronman3]

i was 15 and the girlfriend is over watching movies. parents went to bed, and teens being teens, we got down to business. one thing leads to another, and i am flat on my back buckass nekkid with the girlfriend (future wife) riding my face like a bicycle seat. well things were going REALLY good from my perspective......right up until i hear my moms gasp. we got back into our clothes about as fast as we got out of them. mom then demanded to talk to me in the kitchen.

all things considered, mom was upset but keeping it together. that is, right up until she fucked up and asked me "how could you do that to that poor girl!!!???" i must confess, i never have had to ability to keep my mouth shut when i have an epic retort....and this time was no exception. evidently, "but mom, she was on top" isnt what mom wanted to hear.....lol. cause that's when she started swinging! lol.

the rest of the stuff, well, i'm not sure what the statue of limitations is, one would think 20 + years is enough, but i aint taking any chances.

 

[Rldr-08]

i was 15 and the girlfriend is over watching movies. parents went to bed, and teens being teens, we got down to business. one thing leads to another, and i am flat on my back buckass nekkid with the girlfriend (future wife) riding my face like a bicycle seat. well things were going REALLY good from my perspective......right up until i hear my moms gasp. we got back into our clothes about as fast as we got out of them. mom then demanded to talk to me in the kitchen.

all things considered, mom was upset but keeping it together. that is, right up until she fucked up and asked me "how could you do that to that poor girl!!!???" i must confess, i never have had to ability to keep my mouth shut when i have an epic retort....and this time was no exception. evidently, "but mom, she was on top" isnt what mom wanted to hear.....lol. cause that's when she started swinging! lol.

the rest of the stuff, well, i'm not sure what the statue of limitations is, one would think 20 + years is enough, but i aint taking any chances.

Made my day... lmao


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[2ndamendfan]

the rest of the stuff, well, i'm not sure what the statue of limitations is, one would think 20 + years is enough, but i aint taking any chances.

Exact reason i haven't posted yet. Contemplating the consequences of breaking the code of silence.

 

[vh20]

Buddies mom one night asked if we could get rid of her old mattress... of course we obliged... one mile down the dirt road and a log chain later and I was riding at 65 mph with my motocross helmet and goggles on eating dirt. Geezus was that fun!!! After we'd burnt the mattress down to being unusable we disposed of it properly...


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Reminds me of the old ZZ Top song, "Master Of Sparks." It fits right in to this thread, and probably belies the way Rev. Billy G and Dusty grew up.

 

[vh20]

Upon detonation a large report and smoke column developed.
None of the on lookers had any idea what had become of the "new" projectile.
About 150 yards to the west is an old lumber yard with several buildings.
The lumber yard accounted for 7 walls that had tried to impede the bearing on it's way down range.
After traveling though the lumber yard it encountered the back wall of the old man's house and on into his refrigerator and beyond.
Luckily these barriers had reduced the energy before knocking this man clean out of his chair and across the kitchen floor.

R

History has a way of repeating itself:
https://www.washingtonpost.com/lifes...=.c4cc0b8367d1

Aside: Notice, even in a completely non-political story, the cheap shot the Wash. Post took at "Conservative Republicans." I didn't even realize that until I went to link the story. Unbelievable.

 

[Dog&Jeep]

I had a similar situation when I just just a tad older. I had been out earlier in the evening, then went home and went to bed. Unbeknownst to me, two girls I knew thought it would be soooooo funny to sneak into my bed and surprise me.

Yes, there was some alcohol involved.

They tried to climb though to the wrong bedroom window. My mom freaked. My dad had to send them to the right window, and then had to come wake me up since I was dead to the world.

I must have told my dad three times that he was just having a dream and go back to bed before I finally heard the voices outside that he was trying to tell me about.

Mom was still freaking out. My dad thought it was the funniest shit ever. I got dressed and announced that I was going back to their (the girls) house. As I escaped out the door, I heard dad tell mom "Honey, he was sound asleep. This wasn't his doing. How can you blame him?"

When I showed up the next morning; dad was still laughing, and mom had a serious case of stink eye.

My dad and I were both volunteers at the same fire department. So of course he told them all about it.

 

[TripleBull]

Waadah in the background.

The Straight of Juan de Fuca!

 

[Rldr-08]

Exact reason i haven't posted yet. Contemplating the consequences of breaking the code of silence.

Only reason I posted was there's a court record... well only reason I told the one story.


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[502Chevelle]

Once upon a time, or "Hey this is no shit", in Navy speak, there was a group of Navy divers working right outside of Pearl Harbor. They were marking things and using floats that came up and diving down to check out the objects. The tech wanted to do one more mark, but the current divers were burnt on bottom time, so they asked if anyone was willing to do just one dive. Blondie and I said sure, so we suited up with a fresh set of doubles apiece and were ready to go, but the float didn't surface. This happened occasionally as the line would sometimes get tangled up. Chief Squirmin' told us to get wet, to see if we could spot the float, but gave us a stern warning about not going past 130' as that is the depth limit for diving on air, and we were working near the shelf where the bottom fell of into thousand foot water. Blondie and I took off for the bottom. The water was the most beautiful blue, with giant shafts of light going down. It really was incredible. As we hit the 130' mark, I flared to stop with no bottom in sight, and Blondie passed me and waved for me to follow. I figured what the hell, a little deeper wouldn't kill anything, and we still had plenty of bottom time. We were head down and hauling ass, but at 160' I was concerned. Still no bottom in sight and I was buzzed as hell. Past 130', nitrogen gets pushed into your blood, and gives you a pretty good buzz. The deeper you go, the more it gets you, to the point you can start hallucinating and seeing monsters and stuff. I flared out and stopped just past 160' but all Blondie did was wave bye bye, and kept going. He went until he was pretty small in the water below me. I just knew he was going to flip out, and I would go after him, and we were both going to get killed, but to his credit, he looked around for a moment and came back up to me. From there we started our way back up to the boat. That's when the shitstorm started. At the time Navy divers could go to 130', and then straight to the surface with no safety stop. So, when we stopped 15' down for a stop, Chief knew we had been up to no good. He was hanging over the side of the boat looking at us with a spare mask and motioning for us to come on and get in the boat. We just pointed at our watches and held up the three minute sign. He was pissed. Once we got in the boat he was going off, screaming and cussing wanting to know how deep we went. We both stuck to our guns and just kept telling him 130 was our depth. We did a safety stop because we lost track of time and it was better to be safe than sorry. His reply was to call us a bunch of lieing mother fuckers. We drove the Whalers back to West Loch in Pearl, with him giving us the stink eye the whole way. I never did ask Blondie how deep he went. I was afraid to know. Now I can neither confirm nor deny the truth to this fairy tale, but the water was beautiful that day.

 

[1J04]

The Straight of Juan de Fuca!

In all it's glory !!!!!

Great stories Gentlemen. How can't this be epic? Hilarious........................

 

[myronman3]

another one popped to mind.....

no shit, there i was......
circa 1994..probably june-ish. i had recently ets-ed, and we were having a get together at our place, in a college town with a plethora of college girls, many of whom were in attendance. at one point, two very attractive girls asked if they could get a drink of water, for which i would have to unlock the upstairs and accompany them. i saw no issue with it, and up we went. so they got their water and asked if they could look around. sure, so i give them a tour of the place. we head into my room, and i sit on the couch, and the girls sat one on each side of me. next thing i know, one of them places her hand on the inside of my right knee, and then BAM! the other one places HER hand on the inside of my LEFT knee!!!!!! well once again, i LIKE where this is headed!!! the only knee that didnt have a hand on it (yet) was my wei-knee. so i lean back, and place an arm around each girl and pull them both in nice and close.....i fucking got this...........

it was at that moment, that through the dim light, i heard a noise and saw my curtains rustle.....then, two drunk college boys tried to climb through my window at the same time, laughing and giggling the whole way. it seems they were going to sneak in and either rip me off, or pull a prank, either way, i'm about to score two chicks at once and these shitbirds are fucking that all up. so i says "HEY Motherfuckers.....what the fuck you think you are doing?". they look up, and instead of making themselves scarce, they start blathering about some bullshit. i cut them off, and says "get fucking gone". to which one of them starts backtalking me....in MY fucking house, fucking up MY fucking threesome! ohhhhh-hell-FUCK-NO!

in a flash, i have the 12 gauge riot shotgun out from under the bed and pointed 12 inches from fuckstain' #1's face. now i am beyond"just get lost" mindset, to pull blown pissed off paratrooper "now you are going to pay, asshole" phase. i have a 00 buck loaded 12 gauge with the safety off, 12 inches from this face and you could taste the rage in the air from 100 yards away....and the dumb fucker tried to reach up and take the gun from me..... bad. fucking. move.

i bayonet thrusted the barrel forward straight into his fucking face, smashing his head back into the window and putting a perfect 12 gauge cut under his eye (and i'll bet you he still has a perfect 12 gauge scar under that eye to this day). he blinked, blood gushed, and their sense of self preservation overrode the alcohol, and they hauled ass.

nothing like some skull crushing violence to change the mood. fucking ruined it all. ah well, back to the party. and that is where i fucked up.

dumbfuck A and B go to the emergancy room, cause the cut was NASTY. the dr. inquires how he sustained the injury, "why, a guy with a gun hit me". and right there, by law, they had to call the police. which is exactly what i had not done, figuring i addressed the problem and that was that. well, that was most definately NOT that. the law shows up, askes questions, and i am all about filling them in as to what happened, not realizing the true reason they were there. can you believe the fuckers arrested me in my own fucking house? i mean, out in the street, sure thing. two strangers in my bedroom at night, and i got my ass arrested.

as soon as i got that mess cleaned up, i moved the fuck out of that shithole and will never live there again.

 

[2ndamendfan]

No good dead goes unpunished MyronMan.

 

[Forgetful Coyote]

Late night down the road in Perry, there was a massive kegger going down with all the cool upperclassmen at it so me and my best bud absolutely had to go. Thinking we were all that, we invited 3 girls to go with us(more like drive us there) that were classmates of ours. Unbeknownst to me and my buddy, the chick driving had stolen her mom's car for the night like the genius that she was. So we get to the party, Im doing my best to act cool as a motherfucker and impress one a the chicks that came with us who had a incredible body like captain cheerleader type shit! Well, in the process she ended up gettin me blackout hammered instead of the other way around by letting me think I was tough downing a bottle of Jager and then some at 16 y/o ~140lb. So somewhere along the way, party runs outta alcohol. And the girl we rode with gets the bright idea of making the beer run. I didnt wanna leave sight of my ride and neither did the others so wtf we all went on the beer run me, my buddy, my soon to be g/f, mom's car stealer chick, and another girl who my bud was hittin on. We get going down the down, grab the beer, and on the way back a cop rides past us in the oncoming lane. Mind you, the mom's car stealer is doing like fuckin 95mph on a 2 lane in back woods Perry GA in a stolen vehicle. I freak the fuck out, apparently the only whos seen the party-ender. Sure enough, as I look back hes cuttin a hard U-turn with sirens blaring. Im screaming at this point, LET ME THE FUCK OUT! Didnt have a clue what to do I was piss drunk and young as hell. So she gets the car stopped and me and Grant hit the ground running! GO GRANT GO!! Both being at prime fighting shape and in the middle of wrestling season, there was solid chance we could outrun anybody who aint putting in fuckin SERIOUS time in the gym, wrestling conditioning is insanely brutal. So we get across the corn field and bed down at the tree line ricky tick to survey our pursuers. Holy shit, we fucked up big time man! Cop car after cop car pulling up.. shoulda known our hometown cops would love to get in on footchase, nothin else to do! I shit you not like 9 or 10 squad cars are at the scene quick. So we're just watching em, one of em gets out a mega phone and "Blake E&*****, Grant ^&&&&&, we know where you live, give yourself up now so we aint gotta send the dog out on ya!" Oh fuck no we're out- Daniel Boone'n these cops all night long if we gotta. We hightail it further into the deepest thickest nastiest brush in our path. I mean sprintin dead nuts through the sketchiest looking bush we could find. Finally after atleast a mile of this we take a breather. Can't hear no dogs or brush beatin.. think we made it. Only to find ourselves lost as all hell. You ain't truly been lost until you sprint through the thickest woods on a cloudy night aimlessly for a while. We get the bright idea to split up. Somehow my buddy ends up getting found by my older brother who's out lookin for me. I wander aimlessly until I get to a water tower then sight a neighborhood in the distance. Finally get there and find a house with the lights so hopefully the person's awake. I ring the doorbell asking to use a phone and its a old black lady, she's says sure and leads me to the couch. I use the phone and get in touch with my brother and the rescue squad. Right after hanging up the phone there's a knock at the door.. whoa! Talk about timing fuckin hell ya! I get up and go answer it to promptly get slammed straight on my face by 3 officers. Damn, the old lady called 911 on me and didn't even tell me or indicate she was scared of me! Dumbass me shoulda reckoned I looked like I just done committed triple homicide with a cleaver after running through all that bush and briars chopping myself to hell n back ripping my clothes to shreds, I'm sure I looked quite the criminal. Yea me and Grant still share a laugh about the time we ALMOST out Daniel Boone'd the Perry police force..

Turns out in the time that we were gone, the party had got busted and the dumbasses there said that WE were the ones supplying all the booze. Oh and of course when the girl driving stopped the car, the idiot girls just went down and hid in the ditch and got caught immediately of course. And then folded up and sang like canaries on me and my buddy. That was a rough night, I'm sure it livened up a otherwise boring night for the friendly local officers tho lol no harm in trying right? But BS aside that night fucked my situation up for a long time to come.. don't get delusions of Daniel Boone boys n girls, the cops got radios and a bunch a friends.

 

[Foul Mike]

My friend Jim and I of Christmas tree/chimney fame found a small barrel of carbide dregs from an acetylene generator out by the blacksmiths shop. We dug out a handful and spit on it and much to our surprise there were a few bubbles. We carted it off to a big vacant lot a few blocks away for further research. All looked good to us so we pushed the slip cap back on and went for supplies. Punch and hammer for fuse hole, check. Big balloon for water. check, 20" of black safety fuse, check, We are ready for the evening show.
We returned that early PM and carried the barrel out to a T intersection of the alleys 1/2 block from the only stop light in town. Popped in a fuse hole and pried the lid open, stirred the dregs with a stick and dropped the water balloon in and pushed the lid in very carefully.
Insert fuse, light fuse and retire quickly. We were on the porch talking to his Aunt when it went off with a bright blue ball of flame and a hell of a bang. KABOOM broke a few windows.
For some reason the local Constable drove right straight to Auntie's house. He got out and was just up on the front sidewalk to the porch where we sat when she told him,"It can't be these 2 this time as they have been right here talking to me." He took off looking for the other thugs that pulled this off. She sat quietly for a while then informed us that we were painting the fence tomorrow, bright and early. FM

 

[Tucker301]

Chief Squirmin' told us to get wet, to see if we could spot the float, but gave us a stern warning about not going past 130' as that is the depth limit for diving on air, and we were working near the shelf where the bottom fell of into thousand foot water. Blondie and I took off for the bottom.

It's amazing the chances we take when we know better, but being a non-diver, I have a question about these depths. If around 130 is the limit for humans, how do some of these free divers go some damned far without killing themselves?

Again, I'm like Democrat on the subject of guns and ammunition. I don't know shit.

<iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/5N7fJec4jjQ" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>

 

[bogeybrown]

It's amazing the chances we take when we know better, but being a non-diver, I have a question about these depths. If around 130 is the limit for humans, how do some of these free divers go some damned far without killing themselves?

Again, I'm like Democrat on the subject of guns and ammunition. I don't know shit.

502Chevelle can give you the unabridged, school-trained diver answer, but here's the knuckledragger-who's-survived-a-few-sketchy-dives answer. There is a depth at which the oxygen in pressurized air causes narcosis and then eventually becomes poisonous to breathe. That's why deep divers use special gas mixes. The freakazoid "free divers" are able to do it because they're on a breath of air from the surface, not pressurized air at depth.

 

[CheStadium]

502Chevelle can give you the unabridged, school-trained diver answer, but here's the knuckledragger-who's-survived-a-few-sketchy-dives answer. There is a depth at which the oxygen in pressurized air causes narcosis and then eventually becomes poisonous to breathe. That's why deep divers use special gas mixes. The freakazoid "free divers" are able to do it because they're on a breath of air from the surface, not pressurized air at depth.

Humans can actually dive really deep if they use the right gas and take the time to decompress. Before ROV's came to be in common use, oil rig divers dove to depths in excess of 1000 ft every day. In some places, they still do.

The 130 ft depth limit for air diving, especially on scuba, has been around forever. It's more of a practical limit, as past 130 ft the no-decompression time is too short to do any useful work, you use your air too quickly, and there is the problem of nitrogen narcosis. A commonly held belief is the "martini rule" - for every 50 ft in depth, it's like drinking 1 martini.

Oxygen may also be narcotic, but it carries a danger of toxicity that is far more dangerous than narcosis. At somewhere around 180-190', oxygen can be toxic and cause a gran mal seizure, which a diver on scuba is very unlikely to survive. I've survived air dives to 220' when I was young and stupid but it is something I never want or need to do again.

I have worked on projects at 220-250' on scuba, and even one at 315', but we all used a mixture of helium, nitrogen and reduced oxygen to keep the partial pressures of oxygen and nitrogen within acceptable limits to prevent oxygen toxicity or nitrogen narcosis. . Decompression is still necessary. I won't go into it here, but if anyone is really interested, I could post or PM the gas laws, math and the strategies that I use..

 

[502Chevelle]

Hey Tucker301, the 130' is not a limit for humans, but it is a limit that you can safely go to on air. Many people dive deeper, but it gets more dangerous, a lot more dangerous. It could be as simple as this. Most people start feeling a buzz at about 115', but if they go to 140, the buzz will be quite enhanced. You can do stupid stuff with that buzz, like forget to keep tabs on how much air you have left in your tank. Not good. It seems that you would pay attention to something so important, but when the "drugs" kick in, common sense and training go right out the window. Air is 79% nitrogen, with 21% oxygen, and the deeper you go, the more the nitrogen gets pushed into your bloodstream. This is what causes nitrogen narcosis. I had a friend who used to do his diving out of submarines. Deep freaking submarines, but they were breathing mixed gas, with no nitrogen. We worked together for a while and were pretty tight before he left our unit to do this,but He still won't tell me to this day what he did when he was working out of the sub. The nitrogen is usually replaced by helium, which makes for interesting coms. You talk like Mickey Mouse the whole time. You always laugh the first time you do it in dive school, which always earns you 100 8 count body builders in the sand pit, but it's all good.
CheStadium is right on the money. We were both typing replays at the same time. Hopefully between the two, it will be a little clearer about diving deep on air.

 

[bogeybrown]

Sorry gents. Was thinking one thing and typing another: the nitrogen (not Oxygen) causes the narcosis, and Oxygen eventually becomes toxic.

 

[CheStadium]

Sorry gents. Was thinking one thing and typing another: the nitrogen (not Oxygen) causes the narcosis, and Oxygen eventually becomes toxic.

While we know for sure about nitrogen, there is a lot of empirical evidence that oxygen is also narcotic to some degree at higher pressures. The software I use considers oxygen to be narcotic when doing narcosis calculations to determine the proper mix for a given depth. Most of the people I dive with are in complete agreement with this.

 

[CheStadium]

Hopefully between the two, it will be a little clearer about diving deep on air.

I know a grotto in FL 240 ' (40 fathoms) deep where instructors used to take people to the bottom on air, and then offer them a regulator with a dildo instead of a mouthpiece. Fun guys...

 

[Rthur]

Back in the High school days we decided to declare war on our English teacher.
Mrs. Graham lived in the "School House" near the school complex.
She was fairly good looking but married.
Not the sharpest tool in the shed but with a body like her's all's good.
Me and another 3 individuals decided she and her husband were in need of some excitement.
To the east of the house was a ball field and a corn/bean field.
This allowed covert assault to be employed.
We devised a "time bomb" so to speak.
It consisted of an incense pyramid and a 1k firecracker string.
We would drill a hole through the bottom and insert the wick.
This would give us 5ish minutes of egress to watch the show from a distance.
We would place the "devices" on the front porch and get the hell outa dodge.
Her old man always came running out looking for the little bastards who had wronged them.
After more than a few "raids" he thought he would get smart and exit the side door to better apprehend the culprits.
We had anticipated this...
As the ball field was next door there were railroad irons used for weight on the drag.
After placing a few against said door we placed the devices on the porch.
In our "overwatch" position we waited for the carnage.
Just as the "fireworks" began the old man comes blazing down the steps towards the door.
The surprised look on his face was priceless.
He bounced off that screen door like a rubber ball in a steel room.
The "missions" were shut down before anybody ended up in jail...

R

 

[bogeybrown]

While we know for sure about nitrogen, there is a lot of empirical evidence that oxygen is also narcotic to some degree at higher pressures. The software I use considers oxygen to be narcotic when doing narcosis calculations to determine the proper mix for a given depth. Most of the people I dive with are in complete agreement with this.

Makes total sense. I was never anywhere near that level of diving, but my instructor was a crusty old timer (Vietnam vet) who enjoyed teaching way more than the minimum. He had done some insane shit on SCUBA and liked playing with partial pressure calculations and explaining how they could be manipulated.

 

[Tucker301]

We devised a "time bomb" so to speak.
It consisted of an incense pyramid and a 1k firecracker string.
We would drill a hole through the bottom and insert the wick.

R

We had a guy in our neighborhood who used his mom's cigarettes as delay fuses.
Was at his house one Saturday and his mom was there, cleaning house etc.
He sneaks out and goes under the house in the crawlspace and set one up for a delay.

Little bit later, she's dusting in the room where we're watching cartoons and WABOOOOOMMM!
She came up off of that floor like a firghtened cat. We didn't flinch.

She glared at him and screamed, "Goddammit, Randall!!"

He was a mean son of a bitch. Got sent off to military school a few years later and we never saw him again.

She was a nice lady. They had put up a really nice basketball goal in the backyard for him, which he hardly used, but a lot of other kids in the neighborhood did.
She had floodlights on the back of the house that would illuminate the area.
We'd go there at night in the Fall and winter months and tap on the door. She'd turn the lights on for us and give us a couple of hours to play.

I mowed her grass and did other odd jobs for her around the house. Nice lady. Long gone now.

 

[TripleBull]

To complete my "Attempted Explosions" trifecta, this story is from my college daze. I was taking an organic chemistry lab and was using sodium metal for a Birch reduction. Some students are dumb asses and no matter how many times the TA warned us not to throw excess sodium into the sink, it happened a few times, followed by little explosions and fires. The class used up all of it's sodium so I told the TA I'd go to the stock room and get more. The stock room dude was not there so I went in to get it myself and saw a huge chunk - like 5 pounds. The wheels were turning in my mind, so I took it all and trimmed off maybe 50 grams to replenish the class supply and put the rest into my backpack.

So in order to make this a big explosion, I thought about how to let it form a big ball of hydrogen and hold the heat in so it would ignite when it was released to the air. My solution wasn't up to Rube Goldberg standards by any means, but it was effective. I got a roll of wax paper and a bunch of rubber bands. So I rolled the bar of sodium in a piece of wax paper, then put a rubber band around it. Then I wrapped another layer of wax paper on, plus a little piece of steel to add weight, and another rubber band. Then another layer, then another, until the whole roll of wax paper was gone. Then I wrapped a big piece of truck tire inner tube around the whole thing and used rubber cement to glue the inner tube into a condom of sorts.

The idea was that if I threw the contraption into a river, the weight of the steel would sink it, then water could leak into the inner tube, then seep into the wax paper, eventually reacting with the sodium. More pieces of steel were glued to the open end inner tube to tilt the open end down so the hydrogen would rise up into the sealed end filling the tube with hot hydrogen. At this point, the goal was for the big ball of hydrogen to overcome the weight of the steel so it would float up to the surface where the hot hydrogen would contact the air and explode.

So we drove over to the Muddy River with the contraption and a cooler full of beer and started chugging beers. The bridge was old and rusty and hardly used so we had the place to ourselves. Everyone was antsy for a boom, so I walked out to the middle of the bridge and threw the contraption upstream. Then we waited. And waited. And waited. After about 10 minutes, we started to assume it was a failure. Everyone was standing there, looking upstream for some hint like bubbles rising to the surface. Nothing. Then I started thinking about the river flowing and that the contraption might flow downstream. So I walked to the other side of the bridge to look for bubbles and a couple of the guys saw me and figured out the logic.

We were totally taken by surprise when it blew up. The geyser of water was probably 150' tall and 50' wide. 5 fish were blown out of the river and onto the bank. Another 20 or so were killed by the concussion and floated downriver with the current. Too bad we didn't get video.

It's probably about time to plan another stupid explosion.

 

[bogeybrown]

My first and only experience with Sodium metal was in college:

I was a University Police officer while working (unsuccessfully) on my degree. The University had an old dorm building from the WWII era that was too dilapidated for real students, so they let some of us single guys live in it for nearly free. That place was a fucking zoo, with a bunch of young cops surrounded by the women's dorms.

During the Christmas/New Years break the campus was all but empty so we would have massive keg parties with fireworks, the occasional discharge of a firearm (intentional or otherwise), and general mayhem. On one of those New Year's Eves we were having a ridiculous throw down with all the assorted trappings when a buddy of mine tells me he needs a hand with something. We get up to his apartment and he pulls out a block of Sodium metal and tells me to fill a beer bottle with hot water. I have no idea what he's doing so I go along. He explains how the Sodium is going to explode in the water, so I was intrigued but thought it was a delayed reaction.

We get out onto an outside balcony and he's screaming "hey y'all, watch this" at our friends down in the quad below. I backed away to give him some room to throw the bottle and he drops in the Sodium and tries to toss it. He never made it. The fucking thing blows up in his hand, next to his face and he is screaming that he's blind. He goes into a full panic and goes running through the building bleeding from everywhere and holding his eyes. I was laughing too hard to breathe, much less help, so I stagger down to our common room and find him surrounded by the gang who are either shocked or hysterical with laughter. I was still trying to stop my maniacal laughter when a nurse who was banging one of my friends starts in on me. She's trying to do first aid and starts scolding me like a child for "letting" him do something so stupid. I tried to explain that I had no idea what was going to happen but she doubles down on screaming at me so I politely respond with something along the lines of "shut up cunt, I don't need to hear it" at which point the friend who's banging her wants to throw down over the insult. I believe my response was something equally pithy like "control your cunt and there won't be a problem" at which point there was a big problem.

We went at each other; all the other equally drunk cops are trying to break us up; my boy is still bleeding and crying; sitting on the pool table getting doctored by the cunt; and we proceeded to wreck the common room. Eventually another asshole decided to pepper spray THE WHOLE FUCKING ROOM to break us up. We ended up out in the quad, gasping and crying and eventually laughing it all off. Enough of us were pissed at Mr Pepper Spray that we broke into his apartment and set off some mil smoke grenades and may or may not have pepper sprayed his door knob and pillow cases.

By the time the bosses got back into the office a few days later, the entire party was deemed to be my fault, including my idiot buddy with the Sodium. Keep in mind that there were about 5 guys present with way more time than me, but they had civil service protection and I didn't, so I took the full rap for all of it. Pretty much the story of my life.

 

[Dougie308]

One more for your amusement.

I grew up in St. Louis, MO where in the 70's we had these huge all day concerts at Busch Staduim called Super Jam. Seven or eight bands a bunch of heads, weed and acid. You get the idea. Well at the time I worked at a public pool (900,000 gallons! Biggest in the Midwest) that was managed by my girlfriend's parents. My girlfriend was a disco nut so I went with a buddy, one of the female lifeguards and one of her friends. Well, we got pretty stoned and the lifeguard proceeds to tell me how horny she gets when she's high. Being 17 and full of hormones I take that as a request to trade spit in preparation for the evening's festivities.

There were 56,000 people in the stadium that day and who should the tv cameras focus on? You guessed it, me and the life guard. At the exact moment I am finishing up kissing her and begin giving her a shotgun! Naturally my girlfriend and her whole family were in front of the TV and see the whole thing so there's no denying it. The next day I get fired and lose my girlfriend. Good times.

 

[oneshot86]

get fired and loose the puss, lol, tough day

 

[TripleBull]

The next day I get fired and lose my girlfriend. Good times.

Everyone knows that weed leads to heroin, meth, AIDS and lost girlfriends.

 

[Foul Mike]

Let's hear more about smoke and explosions.
Neat thread, needs a kick in the ass. FM

 

[timesublime]

I'll bite. Late 1980's I used to cut grass for this older couple out by Reston, VA. It was a large yard so they would give me $15 to cut it, I found out that the neighbors were paying this other kid $20 to cut a similar yard. So I asked the old guy if he would match their price. Without a blink, he opens his desk drawer up and hands me my $15 and two quarter sticks. I was already making plans as to what I was going to do with them as I heard him tell me to get away from them once you light them.

Fast forward a couple of weeks, I am staying at friends house in Vienna for the weekend, and his dad and brother were out hunting. I was only 13 so wasn't included in the hunt. So it's about 2 pm on a hot NOVA summer day when I decide it is time to try these things out. There was a steep creek bed just beyond the rear property line, over a small stone wall. Mind you this is an affluent neighborhood on ~2 acre lots.

Lots of bickering about who was going to light the thing off later, it was determined that my friend would light it and I would throw it. So up to the rock wall we go. 1,2,3..it lights and I hurl it into the creek bed. We run as fast as we can holding our hands over our ears, after 100 or so feet I turn around and begin to wonder if the fuse went out. I take my hands away from my ears and tell me buddy that we should wait a few minutes before we check. Then BOOOM! The shock wave was like getting thumped real hard by a big pillow, poooom. We looked at each other in shock, like holy shit we are in trouble. You could hear the echo of the blast coming off of the houses down the street.

About three seconds later I begin laughing my ass off uncontrollably and so does my friend. Well after about what seemed like 20 minutes of laughing I could hardly move and was basically paralyzed from exhaustion. From the road the yard sloped down to the rock wall, and just as I was about to get up and stand I see a Fairfax County Sheriff car slowly cruising by. I lay back down on the ground and tell my friend to stay put and be quiet. The car rolls by and goes to the end of the road and sits there for about 5 minutes and then drives by really slow this time. We are still flat out scared shitless at the cruiser creeping by. He eventually leaves and we sheepishly sneak back in to the basement and head back upstairs where his mom was doing the dishes. We thought we were scott free until in a very soft voice she said "The side fences will be painted before they come home from hunting on Sunday morning right guys." YES, MAAM we will get right on it. Fence was done and not another word was ever mentioned. And the second stick went into the trash.

 

[Servo93]

So who didn't have one of these when you were a kid?

There was a small field between our house and house behind. it was the foot ball, baseball, arrow shooting field.
My oldest brother had the bow and arrow, with the steel-tipped arrows.

All four of us, plus my cousin, plus a couple of other miscreants from the neighborhood were out there shooting the arrows into the sky and watching them come back down.
All except my little brother had the good sense to keep our eyes on the falling arrows and get out of the way. As you'll learn in this thread, he was always screwing up a good time.

Arrow launched.....
Trajectory calculated.....
Evasive maneuvers implemented.....

"MOOOOOOVE!!! LOOKOUT!"

He froze like a deer in headlights. Slapped his hands on top of his head. he had little hands a big head, so coverage was 50% at best.

You know how your mom used to thump melons at the store to tell if they were ripe? That dull hollow sound?

Thhhhhhwwwumpth!

It was a near direct hit! Awesome!
The arrow didn't go in deep, but deep enough to stick straight up for a split second, and then fall over.

The kid was stunned, but still conscious.
Blood began to stream down his face as he lowered his hands and looked at them.
To this point he'd completely silent. Something we'd all hoped at that moment would last the rest of his life.

The scream started out loud and high-pitched, like the peak of an air raid siren. From there, it escalated into something beyond the range of human perception.
Dogs from all over the neighborhood were awakened with a 'What the fuck?!" look on their faces.
I think it was a couple of days before we saw or heard a songbird.

Parents raced to the scene from all directions as well all stood there in awe of so much blood, so much stupidity.

He was rushed to the ER, where he received his first, but certainly not his last set of stitches. They even took his dumb ass out for ice cream afterwards, rewarding his dull-witted behavior as if he'd penned a literary masterpiece or discovered a cure for the common cold.

Of course, we were all innocent bystanders, and under near non-existent pressure we fingered the eldest brother, citing numerous failed attempts before he got an arrow to stick.

I know this is from much earlier in the thread but my neighbors (with whom I share many childhood stories), my brother and I did the same thing.
To Preface; we had two neighbor boys, Tyler and Tanner, that lived down the road from my brother and I. Tanner and myself were the oldest, with Tyler next and then my brother brother being the youngest.

Tanner and I got to playing around with a few bows like the one you have pictured. Things slowly escalated from shooting random patches of dirt to firing them towards each other. Eventually we were about 75-100 yards apart lobbing them as high in the air as possible and seeing how close we could get to each other. We got ballsy enough were we would watch the arrow come in at us and not move, even if it landed less than two feet away, but if it got too close we had enough, though not much, common sense to move.

For some reason, my brother and Tyler though participating as targets was a good idea while this was going on. Things were just fine for awhile until my brother deiced to take cover behind the 4-wheeler sitting out in the yard. For as long as I'll live I remember drawing back the arrow i made out of a 3/8 wooden dowel, guessing the range, wind and what angle I'd need to land my arrow directly behind my dads wheeler, where my brother was taking shelter.
"Ziiiiip" I released the arrow, and the trajectory looked good, maybe a little too good....
As i watched my arrow falling towards the ground I had a desperate sinking feeling, like I wanted to rewind time.
My arrow landed and I heard my brother scream like a wounded animal. I dropped my bow and ran fearing the worse, by the time I got there my dad and the two neighbor boys were consoling my brother who has to be the luckiest kid on the planet. The wooden arrow as grazed my brothers neck leaving a rub mark on his neck, he was completely fine. Had the arrow been half an inch to the left it could have been much worse.

 

[Alphatreedog]

We grew up with bows but the funniest incident we had was with a BB rifle . I grew up with two brothers , one four years older and one four years younger . We were close enough in age that the brother who was four years elder to you would torture the piss otta you and the younger would get his balls up once in a while and destroy the elder . We got in more than our fair share of fights in the neiborhood but none compared to the shit we put each other thru .
My younger brother liked to enlist his friends in exacting revenge and sometimes just a case of the crew being their knob selves . They would allocate my bb guns , clothes , fishing rods and even joyride in my car . So my part in this exchange of brotherly love and mutual friendship was to torture these fucks in all manner . One time in particular I had come home from a summer job , couldn't have been 17 and found my younger brother and his friend Rich playin with a bb rifle . I walked upstairs to the sound on ka lick ka lick ka lick pssst followed by the two hyenas laughin there nuts off . I threw open lil bro's door to find he had taken tooth pics , tissue and masking tape to make darts to shoot from the rifle . The Einstein twins had done quite the job of perforating lil bro' s wall and knowing how shit got evenly dispetsed by the Old Man I was quite confident that my share of an ass kickin , spacklin and paintin were on the way . I stayed cool , didn't play my hand and marveled at lil bro's handi work with the darts . I don't recall if I was just being a dick or had some real payback to deliver to.lil bro's buddy Rich but I played cool and asked if I could try . Since I was gettin an ass beatin I poke the wall once just to check it out and take delivery of the goods for which I would pay via dad's belt if not acouple jabs . After checking out my handi work I loaded another dart , pumped five times and turned to Rich with the heart felt guidance and care that could only come from an older brother or close friend , " Run " . My advice was met with no way I'm not doin this , you're not shootin me no way . I countered with an agreement to count to ten . More like " I'M GONNA COUNT TA TEN " at which point he turned and headed for the stairs . I started the count down and some how mistakenly went from 1 2 3. 10 . As luck would have it Rich wasn't three steps dowm when I leveled the bb rifle at the back of his head and pssst . Hit him square on the right side middle radius of his effin melon only to be rewarded with the most horrifying shrill blood curdling scream that I've ever experienced to this day . He ran thru the house like a fukin chien with no head . It took me and lil bro to tackle him and calm him down . You woulda thought somebody tore his fuckin arm off at the shoulder the way he reacted . Gotta say though it was so funny that I woulda done it again for two ass beatins . My brother and I still howl over this story .

 

[Tucker301]

Next door neighbors had a kid that was 6 years older than me, one two years older, and one 2 years my junior.

The oldest two got in a huge fight one day. Cheap housing and no air conditioning allowed us to listen in on the cussing and threats of death or worse from the safety of our yard.
Then we heard it turn physical. Sounded like some serious shit was going down in there as the walls flexed and furniture was being tossed around.

The middle kid was WAY overweight, with a big old belly and tree trunk legs. He's a big fat ugly as fuck ginger, so his skin looks notebook paper in the summer sun.

Suddenly he comes hauling ass out the back door in nothing but his tighty whities, makes a sharp right and tear off towards the street.
The older brother isn't but a second behind him, and he's got the Daisy locked and loaded.

Like a sportsman allowing a flushed bird to fully take wing, he assumes proper stance, shoulders the air rifle, draws a bead and POP... PLOP!
He nailed tubby right square between the shoulder blades, and the red whelp came up instantly.

Th beast goes down in the grass and he looks like he's trying to outswim Michael Phelps as he flails is flabby arms trying to reach the glowing red fire in the middle of his back, but he just can't make it happen.
We're all crying laughing at him and he's letting out screams that sound someone has got a seal's balls in a vise.


<iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/jxbPxTB8Q4s" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>

 

[Foul Mike]

My kids were all assholes. They learned it from their Mother.
We had a house about1/4 block away that wetbacks were moving through on a regular basis and working on local farms. Well within bottle rocket range.
I came home one evening to hear my oldest boy shout," Fire mission on LZ Beaner."
Out the door went all 3--- 10, 7 and 5 years old, boy girl boy. Out to the back yard where they had a plastic tube set up, a few boards and duct tape and wire and a lighter.
They had the tube set up and taped and wired in and were adjusting the length of the sticks on various rockets and launching them to good effect at that house whenever anyone was toting groceries or whatever.
swoosh POP about 5 rounds then run to the house before the PoPo got there.
Damn, here's Pa waiting at the back door.
Each got a pat on the back and told to be careful about round count and down the stairs they went to watch cartoons.
I wish my Old Lady had not taught them that shit but she had and they were good gunners. They could make them POP very close to the front steps at the LZ.
That is my story and I am stickin to it. FM

 

[bogeybrown]

Alphatreedog , that's some good shit with the BB gun darts. I can't believe I never thought of it. The closest we came was making "blowgun" darts out of mom's sewing pins with the toilet paper wadding taped on, shot out of straws. My brother and I would seriously fuck each other up with those. Every time we'd get in trouble for it we tried explaining that if we could just have a real blowgun we wouldn't have to make our own. She wasn't buying it, smart woman.

Anyone else soak tennis balls in accelerant and play "flaming tennis" down the street and possibly into neighbors' yards?

 

[Alphatreedog]

Alphatreedog , that's some good shit with the BB gun darts. I can't believe I never thought of it. The closest we came was making "blowgun" darts out of mom's sewing pins with the toilet paper wadding taped on, shot out of straws. My brother and I would seriously fuck each other up with those. Every time we'd get in trouble for it we tried explaining that if we could just have a real blowgun we wouldn't have to make our own. She wasn't buying it, smart woman.

Anyone else soak tennis balls in accelerant and play "flaming tennis" down the street and possibly into neighbors' yards?

To busy hav8n Roman Candle fights .

 

[bogeybrown]

To busy hav8n Roman Candle fights .

Yep, those were fun. However, I learned the hard way that some Roman candles launch from the end opposite the wick and some launch from the wick side. I got ahold of some that launched "backwards" and shot myself in the junk. Later that evening I had a pack of "jumpin jacks" go off in my hand. The Roman candle to the nuts should've been a clue that it wasn't my night to be playing with fireworks.

On a totally random fireworks note: a friend of mine up here is a door guy at a hugely popular music club. On the night of the 4th there were a ton of drunks screwing around with fireworks outside the club. A drunk chick in the group set off an M80 (or similar) in her hand and completely lost several fingers and suffered "blast lung" (or similar internal damage) plus some bits of finger embedded in her chest. I look back at the shit we survived relatively unscathed and can only surmise that it's because we were better at being "bad" than these Molly-coddled youngsters of today.

 

[Alphatreedog]

So my lil bro's buddy Rich was often the object of my affection as he was usually right in the thick of it when my bro was pullin soms sneaky shit .
My dad had halved our garage and made a laundry room in one half . It was the warmest room in the house after he moved the oil furnace out there . Naturally we would hang out ther in winter after runnin around the neighborhood . One day after liftin. I found the two brain surgeons chillin out there and decided to grace them with my attention . I was about seventeen or sixteen and pretty muacled up for a young guy . In retrospect th relative time frame to the bb gun incident . Bad year for Rich .
Funny how the best plans just seem to materialize outta thin air . I meann like what happened I absolutely did but someboxy else with a truly effed up ssnse of humor was ca)in the shots . I leaned my head down against the wall that seperated the kitchen from the garage and asked Rich " man you here that " ? He replied no . I kept at it and his response was still the same . Now just to paint the picture for ya the spot on the wall was about ten inches or so from the kitchen door and the door was open . As I stood in the doorway I said hey put your ear to the wall . Dammed if my willing victim didn't do just that . As soon as his ear touched the wall I put one hand on his opposite ear pallm against his head an the other hand palm avainst the other side of the wall . I started tryin to make my palms meet for all I was worth all the while he's screaming like a fuckin air raid siren in doors . Funny you'd think that his head coverin more surface area would have stayed put and the hand on the kitchen side would have gone thru the wall but go figure . I pushed his head right thru the drywall . Needless to say I was quite impressed with myself until it came ass whoopin time . Somehow some way the old man just new its was me . Seemed alot of growin up was ; stupid , laughter , ass whoopin , spackle Paint , lather rnse repeat .

 

[Rldr-08]

Alphatreedog , that's some good shit with the BB gun darts. I can't believe I never thought of it. The closest we came was making "blowgun" darts out of mom's sewing pins with the toilet paper wadding taped on, shot out of straws. My brother and I would seriously fuck each other up with those. Every time we'd get in trouble for it we tried explaining that if we could just have a real blowgun we wouldn't have to make our own. She wasn't buying it, smart woman.

Anyone else soak tennis balls in accelerant and play "flaming tennis" down the street and possibly into neighbors' yards?

Never soaked them, but did put a small slice in them and fill them with gas. Light them up and play catch... WTF were we thinking. We later graduated to kickballs full of gas until my buddies dad caught us... that was a bad day


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

 

[vh20]

Yep, those were fun. However, I learned the hard way that some Roman candles launch from the end opposite the wick and some launch from the wick side. I got ahold of some that launched "backwards" and shot myself in the junk.

When I was just a little too young to be playing with fireworks, I was watching my older cousin shoot hand-held Roman Candles. After a couple of good ones, he lights another and waits for the first fireball to shoot out. Instead, there was a big BOOM and all 10 fireballs shot out the back at once. I never forgot that, and as a result, would never properly "aim" a Roman Candle with the butt pointed at any part of me. So, instead we had PVC "gun barrels" for bottle rocket fights.

 

[Foul Mike]

How many of us got an ass-whoopin because we were in charge of some expedition or another and Mom told you ,"Don't get these kids in trouble, you are in charge." only to go find some neat shit to get into and need a guinea pig and use them for whatever experimentation only to have it go south and there was hell to pay?
Happened to both me and my kids a few times.
Sometimes I was handing out the whoopins or Cod Liver Oil but when younger was taking them on.

 

[TripleBull]

I only got to watch this one - it wasn't my fault, honest. Well, maybe a little.

We have a neighbor that hates fireworks. On 4th of July, he runs around shooting video of patriots enjoying the holiday, then turns it into the cops in hopes that his redneck neighbors will get arrested. Three years ago, he found a cop that was willing to hassle citizens after seeing his video. Our property opens up to a park out back and I was talking to a dude that lives on the other side and he'd been harassed and the cop took all his kid's fireworks. Naturally, they were pissed. So I pointed out the identity of the moron narc with the video camera.

Fast forward a year. At 3 a.m. on July 4, the sky lit up with huge rockets being sent low angle across the park and into my neighbor's back yard. Actually, they were bouncing off the house and blowing up on his nice redwood deck. I walked out back on our patio and watched the snitch trying to play dodge-rocket while laughing at him and pointing fingers.

Around sunrise, I walked out into the park and found the rocket launch station. It was made of a 2x4 frame with about 30 short PVC pipe sections clamped on. So the vigilante loaded the rack up with large rockets, attached them with dynamite fuse, lit the end and went home to have another beer. I stopped by and commended his patriotic fervor. His kids were so proud.

 

[Rthur]

Alphatreedog , that's some good shit with the BB gun darts. I can't believe I never thought of it. The closest we came was making "blowgun" darts out of mom's sewing pins with the toilet paper wadding taped on, shot out of straws. My brother and I would seriously fuck each other up with those. Every time we'd get in trouble for it we tried explaining that if we could just have a real blowgun we wouldn't have to make our own. She wasn't buying it, smart woman.

Anyone else soak tennis balls in accelerant and play "flaming tennis" down the street and possibly into neighbors' yards?

Darts done the correct way:
Sewing machine needles
Pencil eraser
Large pixy stix straw(about 1/2 inch ID) by 24inches
Paper cone taped to eraser/needle assembly.
Trim to fit straw/tube
Had serious penetration at 15 paces.

Another was "sword" fights using electric cattle prods.
There wasn't any doubt if you got some on the other bucccaneer lol.

R

 

[Tucker301]

I only got to watch this one - it wasn't my fault, honest. Well, maybe a little.

We have a neighbor that hates fireworks. On 4th of July, he runs around shooting video of patriots enjoying the holiday, then turns it into the cops in hopes that his redneck neighbors will get arrested. Three years ago, he found a cop that was willing to hassle citizens after seeing his video. Our property opens up to a park out back and I was talking to a dude that lives on the other side and he'd been harassed and the cop took all his kid's fireworks. Naturally, they were pissed. So I pointed out the identity of the moron narc with the video camera.

Fast forward a year. At 3 a.m. on July 4, the sky lit up with huge rockets being sent low angle across the park and into my neighbor's back yard. Actually, they were bouncing off the house and blowing up on his nice redwood deck. I walked out back on our patio and watched the snitch trying to play dodge-rocket while laughing at him and pointing fingers.

Around sunrise, I walked out into the park and found the rocket launch station. It was made of a 2x4 frame with about 30 short PVC pipe sections clamped on. So the vigilante loaded the rack up with large rockets, attached them with dynamite fuse, lit the end and went home to have another beer. I stopped by and commended his patriotic fervor. His kids were so proud.

I'd toss $20 on a GoFundMe for next year's assault.

 

[Sean the Nailer]

Darts done the correct way:
Sewing machine needles
Pencil eraser
Large pixy stix straw(about 1/2 inch ID) by 24inches
Paper cone taped to eraser/needle assembly.
Trim to fit straw/tube
Had serious penetration at 15 paces.

Another was "sword" fights using electric cattle prods.
There wasn't any doubt if you got some on the other bucccaneer lol.

R

Good start ya'll, but still in the amateur levels....

I had the good fortune of being given a graphite arrow shaft. One that my friend wasn't able to repair the nock on, so he simply cut both ends off, square. That was my "blow-gun".

I then had the good fortune of being given a number of (brand new) hypodermic needles. Not the diabetic type, that are short and tiny. These ones were about 1 3/8" long, and 1/16"ish in diameter. I would garner some wool (many members of the family knitted) and then stuff the back with said wool, like a brush, and then "fuzz it out". I started practicing on my little sisters stuffed-animal collection. Warning, avoid aiming for the eyeballs, for it A) blunts the hypo's, and B) them ricochet's are a bastard.

She'd get quite offended when entering her room, and her menagerie of all these animals had colorful 'splashes' all over them. "Stop killing my babies" would echo through the house. I'd collect all of my darts, color coded for inventory, and away I'd go. It truly is scary how accurate those can be.
Now, if someone were to place a substance of the right consistency into said hypo's, then the sinister movie scenario's could ensue. Especially if one were to install a "piston" type of thing, first. Just think of the possibilities.



Now, older neighbor kids with Super-8 movie camera, models, fire-crackers,,,, it is quite incredible the 'home movies' one can make simulating all kinds of madness and mayhem. Even included aircraft dogfights, naval depth-charges in the swimming pool, and all kinds of movie-remake car-crashes and the inevitable explosions that automatically ensue.

Until the explosions became strategic. Then a whole new world opened up....

 

[MrSmith]

A classic standard.

Early '70s. Small town high school. Science fair coming up. The Chem. teacher would come in late evening and those interested would show up and work on their projects for a couple of hours. It came about a 6 inch snow and school got out mid afternoon. One of my friends and I waited until about 6pm and went in. Everything was locked up but the janitor let us in and we dutifully went to the classroom and lab and got busy on our projects.

But not before we taped a couple of the more impressive Playboy centerfolds onto the pull down screen used for the overhead projectors during class. (You old farts will remember these) Keep in mind this was the '70s, Playboy magazines were still sold in a wrapper.

After a half hour or so the janitor popped in and informed us that he had called the teacher, he wasn't coming in to monitor the projects and we would have to leave. So off we went.

Took 2 and a half weeks but it worked.

Thank you,
Mr.Smith

 

[TripleBull]

Looking back on this tale of dumbassery makes me feel like like some kind of mini-predecessor to the Jackass movies. It all started when a local church bought a large vacant lot near our home. Like 80 acres large, about half wooded. Their old church was packed to the gills every Sunday with Southern Baptists so they needed to build a new, larger church to allow for more growth. They went around with chain saws and bush hogs to get ready to site the building and being inquisitive kids, we were right there, getting in the way. We got to ride on the bush hog and when it would scare up rabbits, we'd pop the mature ones with our 22s and try to run down the little ones to capture. We got about a dozen younguns and built a cage for our catch. But I'm digressing. After clearing part of the lot, they tossed up a little tool shed. It was about 8 x 12' and the low side eve was not much over 6'. We could boost each other up and survey the world from the perch.

The King Dumbass of the clan (that would be me) decided we should jump off the roof of the tool shed. No problem, the ground was soft and we'd been watching enough Combat and Rat Patrol on TV to know we had to roll through the landing. We were fucking heroes, so we did it over and over. Scar tissue was accumulated, but you have to do some Jackass shit in your life if you ever want to amount to something useless, so next I found a house nearby that had a carport with 8' eves and a fence on the back that made it easy to climb onto.

There's a significant difference between a 6' drop and an 8'. Some of the crew chickened out and just 3 of us did the jump more than once. The herd was thinning and the idiots were rising to the top. Since this was the tri-level home building era, all we had to do was borrow dad's tape measure and we could survey the next incremental options. We found a house where the husband and wife both worked days and they had a 12' eve. Not fully understanding the relationship between height of drop and momentum, I boldly launched. This was the first real hard-stinger of a landing and any smart kid would have known this was enough. Some permanent knee and lower back damage was taken on. Only one other kid was dumb enough to try and he fared worse than me.

Now all I had to do was find a 13' eve and I could be the last dumbass dropping. I surveyed carefully, found a couple of candidates and compared landing zones. On impact, my left knee found my lower lip and blood went everywhere. It was a hard hit to the lumbar and totally dinged my ankles and knees. Gimpy for about 3 days.

Fast forward to college days. I'd gotten hooked on rock climbing and the local fad was bouldering - climbing unroped not too high off the ground. Actually, some dudes got way off the ground. I tried to keep my feet no more than about 8' off the ground. Back then, we didn't use crash pads, we landed like men. Dumbass men. Around this time I got a job as a paramedic and joined the local Search and Rescue team because that made my paramedic pay go up $2 an hour. I learned how to get stranded people off cliffs when they got in over their head and thought I really knew my shit about climbing. One day the local university put on a battle of the bands at a state park where our SAR team trained cliff rescue. I drank beer all day and got real lubed up and decided to solo an easy route that's about 35' tall. I popped off the exit move and was airborne. Fortunately the landing zone was soft turf. Mid air, I was falling towards a tree and calmly pushed off the trunk towards the best impact spot, got rotated forward and rolled out the landing. The impact was electric. Level 9 pain in the back, ankles, knees, neck, everywhere. My ears rang like a bell. No broken bones, which is fucking amazing. A friend was right there to hand me a beer, so we partied on. Next morning, when the alarm went off, I felt like I'd been hit by two trucks. The thing is, learning to jump and land as a little kid allowed my to keep my cool when I fell off the cliff and get ready to land. You can imagine the condition of my knees these days.

 

[Barneybdb]

I can relate to that, about to have two complete knee replacements, the damage to mine started over fifty years ago when I learned the hard way that a WW2 military issue blanket does not work as a parachute from 20 ft agl.......

 

[Tucker301]

Not one of us, or perhaps he is, but a cool story is a cool story.

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