Tell Us A Story.

Kyras

...

Kyras

Ok, maybe that was a bit heavy. Here's something a bit lighter.

Once lived in apartments with no name. So they were called the "No Name Apartments". All of the tenants were around 20 years old. We all knew each other.

One afternoon Eddie got drunk and danced on the railing of the second floor balcony, then fell off onto the hood of the landlord's car, leaving a huge dent. He ran away.

Eddie passed by my back window one day, then I heard glass break. I found Eddie in Gene's apartment, stealing his stuff. Nice.

The boyfriend of the girl upstairs, one Christmas eve, woke everyone by banging on their doors. He had been locked out. Naked. In the snow. Oh, and he was stabbed. He passed out on someone's car hood. He was fine. Everyone stood around and watched. Awesome.


The new guy next door really liked "Let's Get Physical" by Olivia Newton John. He had it on repeat, at full blast, for at least six hours. Yeah. Always wondered what was going on in there.

On New Year's Night we had a full scale fireworks war with the apartment complex across the very busy street. It was incredible. We declared victory after an hour and a half. One girl's hair caught fire from the Roman Candle attack.

Sharon, if you are reading this, please move your bed farther from the wall so the headboard doesn't bang the wall. Thanks.

Darryl took his new "friend" to a bar while Gene broke in the guy's apartment and stole everything. Darryl later put it in a safe place. After telling Gene how he had to ditch everything because the cops were after him, he sold me the TV (I didn't know it was hot) and kept all the money ($20) for himself. The next day, Gene saw my new TV and said "Got a new TV, huh?" Gene wasn't too bright.

The last time I saw Gene, he was heading to the gas station with a black and white xerox copy of a $10 bill. He copied the front and the back, but had no tape. He licked the paper and stuck the two parts together. I always wondered how that went...

We had moped speed trials through the woods, complete with a ramp at the end, but the spokes finally gave out from landing too hard. We set it on fire.

We had Wrist Rocket slingshot wars in the parking lot with plastic bubble gum machine prize containers filled with nasty water and tadpoles.

Ah, youth.

Tom Struble

.....one time we tied a can to a cats tail

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Tom

buddy110

When I was younger I timed a rather wet fart while sitting on the john suffering from a bout of diarrhea. It lasted 22 seconds

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AtlRemodeling

This one time at band camp...











Sorry couldn't resist, that movie cracks me up.

SC sawdaddy

Heres one a truck driver buddy told us one time:

He eats breakfast at the waffle house with a bunch of regulars, one of them is a deputy sheriff who got a call about a dog that was in somebody's yard causing trouble.

The deputy went to the door to find out what the deal was with the dog. When he got on the porch the screen door was open and he could see inside where the guy was sitting on the couch smoking a joint. When the guy saw the deputy he got up and came to the door and started telling the cop about his neighbors dog that was barking all the time. The Deputy asked him if that was marijuana and the guy just kinda went duh yeah but I'm in my house.

Mr deputy told him to put it out and put it in a sandwich bag and hand it over and he wouldn't charge him for having it. You don't have any more in there do you? The stoner went to the closet and pulled out about 2 pounds in freezer bags and gave it to the deputy then went through the ash trays and got all the roaches out and put them in the bag.

The deputy asked him if he was the one who made the call about the dog. And the guy says yeah... um.. I did...um... but never mind. I'm not worried about him.


Must have been some good sh!t.

genecarp

One time on a job with no bathroom a 5 gallon spackle bucket became a crapper. That bucket sat in the sun for a days, we where all eating lunch when someone walked up and asked for a clean bucket. Without hesitation we all motioned to the BUCKET, Vinny approached the bucket, knelt down, began to pry the green edges up, fingers reaching under, here it comes--------------------------The face he made was PRICELESS, many people had soda coming out of there noses from laughing, i will never forget this story, and i am sure Vinny wont either, GMOD

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Trim40

In 1980 something I was working with a framing crew on a hotel complex.
Our foreman had a weak bladder and had a habit of just letting flow whereever.
One day I was on the roof running fascia board. The foreman is in the second flr unit across from me cutting for another guy. I can hear him behind me say " Hang on, I gotta take a leak". About 30 sec later I hear scraming below me. The foreman just walked over to the window, whipped it out and pissed on a day laborer.
I damn near fell off the roof laughing.

boman47k

I've been told if you tie two cats' tails together then throw them over a clothesline, you get a hell of a show.

Or toss one in a brush chipper. MEEEEEeeeOOOWWWWwwwwwwwwnnnnnnn!

some sick stuff out there.

Tom Struble

yea we were hell raisers

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Tom

davinci

I could tell you guys plenty of stories about by 6 year bid in a fed pen.. Believe it or not,i met some good people but also many that would kill you if you looked the wrong way. some very serious people.

Heritage

I was a doorman for 7 yrs and most of my buddies used to bounce/still bouncing, and I have my fair share of stories but my favourite story isn't about me, it's my good friend Jim's (name changed, it's not really Jim).

Jim is a big, "man's man" black guy. He's 8 yrs older and before I started bouncing he was the head doorman of a popular nightclub. It was the late 90's. So one night, Jean Claude and his wife show up. He goes up to Jim. "Jim, Jim, take care of the Papparazi, they're everywhere, make sure they don't get in"

So Jim whisks J.C. and his wife up to the VIP.

J.C. comes back half an hour later.

"Jim, you gotta find me some blow" and puts a $100 bill in Jim's pocket.

Jim was surprised...J.C.V.D. does blow? We all thought he was an athlete...oh well.

As it happens, the only dealer in the club that night was this Tranny. So Jim takes the Tranny over to J.C. so they can do their thing. After a while, Jim checks in to see how J.C. and company are doing, and finds J.C. and the tranny getting kinda friendly with eachother......so Jim pulls J.C. aside...

"Um, look, I gotta tell ya...she's a he"

"Yeah yeah...so Jim...what do you think of my wife huh? She thinks you're hot"............"Why don't you come back to our hotel later on huh? We'll party".

Now, one thing you should know about most of us bouncers...most of us got into bouncing just for the sake of having a good story to tell the next day.

So Jim went. Long story short, and this is a G rated site so I'll just leave you with...

Jim and J.C.'s wife were... on the bed, J.C. and the tranny were......yeah, and J.C. was pulling his wife's hair and smacking her around yelling "You like that huh?, you like ___ black___in______

LMAO....just telling the story makes me laugh my ___off. That's gold.

Over the years I've teased Jim and told him he fudged the story and that Jim and the tranny were on the bed instead, lol.

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Tom Struble

all you guys are messed up

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Tom

Kyras

My motorcycle story.

I was around 17, my friend sold me a motorcycle for $50. The reason it was so cheap was it had no papers. Was it stolen? I dunno, I think he would have told me but who knows. Anyway. It was a Kawasaki 500 triple. That's a 2 stroke with 3 cylinders and 3 carbs. It's hard to get the carbs all synched, but when you do, you best not blink or you will miss a half mile of scenery. The 2 stroke acceleration was unreal, you really had to hang on. Oh, and it handled like a brick. It would have won races, as long as they were in a straight line. There has seldom been a more dangerous machine.

Couple of guys I knew, brothers, were total gearheads and they built a go-kart out of a 750 triple that would literally fly. My old man never knew a wrench from a hole in the ground and neither did I, I was 17 and kinda stupid. So, naturally, I took the bike apart. Engine, transmission, everything, all over the floor. I had a book, so I put it back together. But, you know, those books, they figure you aren't a complete idiot. So they usually don't have much to say about things like gaskets.

So, after I had it all put together, without any gaskets, I had a few leftover parts too (transmission thingies) and I cranked it up. Surprisingly, it ran, just not very well. Sometimes though, it would all come together for a few frightening moments of face-distorting world-shaking all out speed-freaking insanity. I had a few mishaps, like the front wheel falling off, or the bike throwing me like a horse, but it was fun.

My parents lived in a pretty nice neighborhood. There was this particular straight stretch of road that had a slight history. Mark, my friend, drove a turd brown Plymouth Fury, and he drove it hard. He did this Indian rain dance on the roof of his car. That would make it rain. When it rained he could drive hard and not wear his tires down too much. Tires cost money, and Mark spent all of his on cigarettes. Every dime. You couldn't see the carpet in his bedroom at all, it was all covered with Winston and Salem packs. Seriously. He made his money doing exterminator work. He always had a pump up can with bugspray in the back seat. The car smelled. Somewhere I still have an Eagles album, Desperado, with a ruined, smelly, destroyed album cover. Bug spray leaked.

Mark's parent's house, a nice house, had a hill in the front yard. Mark was always trying to climb that hill with the Fury, but I don't think he ever made it. He bottomed out a lot and the towtruck would come and haul him down. He trashed that yard really hard. So, back to that road, that stretch of road in my parents neighborhood. Mark, after doing his rain dance on the roof, which was really kind of caved in from the dancing, was blessed with rain. He accelerated down this part of the road, spinning gloriously in the rain. Much fun was had. At the end of the road, where the stop sign was, and the road forked, the fun ended. The Fury hit the ditch, traveling a good 70 per, and left a remarkable crater. The Fury was no more. Not long after, Mark robbed a 7-Eleven with a sawed off. He got 7 dollars and 7 years. I never saw Mark again, but he was a memorable guy.

Lucky for me, flying down that same road on my 500 triple, that ditch had been since filled in. Because that Sunday morning, riding my incredible piece of crap motorcycle, long hair flying behind me, making a spectacle in a respectable neighborhood, that stretch of road was a wee bit moist from the morning dew. And the bike was running exceptionally well. As you recall, it lacked somewhat in the handling department. Also I rebuilt the brakes. Yeah, I did it myself. I had a book.

When the family came out of their front door that Sunday morn, all dressed for church, mother, father, two young children, they froze right there on the porch as I came flying right through their front yard, having blown the stop sign and the filled ditch. The impressive thing, that spring morning, was I was going completely sideways, totally out of control, anticipating impact with a tree at any moment, with a crazy grin from ear to ear. Sometimes you just gotta laugh.

I missed the mailbox, 4 trees, the family sedan and the bushes, all while going sideways on the slippery grass, managed to pull it around once I got to the next yard, and cruised away, completely unscathed. I sold that bike two days later for $40. I haven't ridden a motorcycle since.