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Thread: Stories?

  1. #1
    not to be trusted miss fortune's Avatar
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    Smile Stories?

    I've always enjoyed listening to people tell stories of things that happen in thier lives- you get a different perspective on the world that way and a better understanding of the story teller. I've generally collected other people's stories throughout my life and was wondering if anyone here would be willing to tell me a story?

    *sits down hopefully with a cup of tea and a smile*
    “Oh, we're always alright. You remember that. We happen to other people.” -Terry Pratchett

  2. #2
    Senior Member Alchemist's Avatar
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    You beat me! I was going to make a thread like this.

    So I'm from Texas, big Lone-Star state, lots of cows and shit. So one day after it rains, I decide that my friends and I should go cow-tipping. I know, right? Total hillbilly shit. My girlfriend at the time, Anya, a foreign exchanged student from the Czech-Republic, wanted to come along too. I don't think they have many cows in her country. So anyway, my friend James is manning the trash bag, while Johnny, Anya, and I team up on the cows and push them over. We tried to get a domino effect, to no avail. Suddenly we hear Anya just let out this huge gasp, and my ears are kinda fine-tuned for that. So I immediately turn about, and this big fucking bull is stamping and pawing at the ground... and he's staring right at her. She's just totally frozen, with her hands over her mouth, while this bull is about to tear her to pieces. You know what saved us? A naked lady. I reached into my back pocket and got my laser pointer out, beamed it at the ground in front of him... and instead of trampling Anya, he tries to rape this image of a naked lady with DDs. So we all get the hell out of there, and James looks like an Asian Santa Clause with a bag full of goodies.

    God I miss Texas...

    -A
    "Je ne craignais pas de mourir
    Mais de mourir sans etre illumine."


    "I was not afraid to die,
    But to die without being enlightened."

    -Comte de Saint-Germain, La Tres Sainte-Trinisophie

  3. #3
    not to be trusted miss fortune's Avatar
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    It's too fun of a thread not to make I just wish that it was catching on!

    My sister has always been one of my favorite travel partners, which is why I'm kind of sad that she's settling down now. There's nothing more fun than having an ENFJ along to play along with loopy ideas and to add a spark of passion to whatever you're doing.

    One year, over fall break, I decided that I wanted to check out a few grad schools in the upper midwest, I was going to be driving and my sister was coming along because the word road trip had a draw that she could not escape. We loaded up my car with enough CDs to supply us with music if we decided to drive to Mexico and back, a bottle of tequila, a case of beer and her "special stash" as well- after all, if Hunter S Thompson said that traveling with drugs was a good plan who were we to quesion

    The trip up to Minneapolis went uneventfully- I drove in the morning, starting out at 6 am, and she drove in the afternoon, when I was sleepy (I always get a bit drowsy mid-afternoon) and we arrived there in time to visit the Mall of America and declare it a horrible monstrosity before finding dinner and going back to our room to drink and smoke. We toured the grad school in the morning and talked to a mormon missionary for a while because he looked bored. After that we headed for Madison.

    The first part of that trip went well- we took highway 61 down the Mississippi, which delighted us by being both a part of The Great River Road and being mentioned by Bob Dylan (who we listened to while driving it) and then decided to cut across between La Crosse and Madison on the interstate, since it would be quicker. I was busy playing with the wind coming in the window when I started to notice that something wasn't right. My sister was driving the same speed that she had been all along (85mph) but suddenly everyone else was going slower- even the midlife crisis sufferer in the Corvette convertible. As I was opening my mouth to say "Slow down, there must be a cop ahead!" we saw flashing blue and red lights- too late.

    I had my fingers crossed that my sis wouldn't open her big mouth and damn us to a body cavity search- she has the habit of yelling at cops and pointing out that "there are real criminals out there- why are you picking on me? Is it because of my hair, makeup and piercings? This is an injustice!" Luckily he walked around to my side of the car where I could calmly ask "what seems to be the problem officer?"

    Apparently 20 mph over the speed limit is reckless driving, and we were from out of state, which did not sit well with the Wisconsin State Police. After peering through the windows at our stuff (while I sweated thinking of the booze and stash under my seat) he said "I'm giving you a $185 ticket, you have to pay it right now unless you want to go to jail"

    Jail?!? WTF! Before my sis could open her mouth (I could see that she was preparing to, and that couldn't go well!) I explained "but officer, all of the money I have is on my ATM card- which is supposed to pay for gas and our hotel tonight!" The Man had no sympathy- apparently out of staters have to pay on the spot or go to jail until they do pay- I payed with our remaining trip money and glared at my sister. "Bitch" I hissed at her "you owe me big time now!"

    We got to the hotel and I put on my lowest cut shirt and push up bra before walking up to the high school boy at the desk- after 10 minutes of leaning on the counter and wheedling I managed to get us a room for the night- as my sis transfered money from her bank account to mine. I had to hand over my drivers license for the rest of our stay as insurance that we weren't going to leave without paying. In the end it all worked out, but that was, to say the least, one of the more terrifying encounters with a cop I have experienced!
    “Oh, we're always alright. You remember that. We happen to other people.” -Terry Pratchett

  4. #4
    More human than human MetalWounds's Avatar
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    I guess I'll join in here. Sort of a 10 daysish time lapse.

    It was 1630 (4.30pm) and I was planning on being inebriated 29 minutes prior, but alas, I was still at work. I get called into my supervisor's office and he gives me wonderful news; I have been tasked to take part in a week long training exercise in beautiful backwoods New Jersey, 4 days from now. Finally, I go home pissed off because I have to pack for 7 days of living in the field, I don't even bother with my previous plans. The next day I get a checklist of places that I need to visit to "out process", among which was the medical clinic. I hand my checklist to the receptionist and she asks me where I'm going, "New Jersey" I reply. She types something into her computer, gets a confused look on her face and hands me a list of shots that apparently are mandatory for travel to Jersey. I look at the list; Typhoid, Anthrax, Hep. B, and Smallpox. I would have laughed at the situation, but for some reason I wasn't feeling it. It's October, and when we get to Jersey for some reason it's 80 degrees and sunny, record heat... just my luck. The exercise consists of setting up a fully operational base from nothing at all. I Get issued my weapon, my blank ammo, and my field gear when I arrive. I figure, being transportation, I'll be hauling cargo in an air conditioned truck, not so. For the first 2 days my team lays Concertina wire around the base, working 18 hours at a time in the unusual Jersey heat. Adding to my joy, there is no running water, likewise, there are no showers. I lay in my cot, tired, dirty, pissed off, and without my I pod, finally my mind quiets and I drift off to sleep. It's 1 a.m. and I awake to a terribly loud bang, followed by a manic choir of smaller pops and bangs. The base was being "attacked" I spring out of bed, don my flak vest, weapon and gear, post security, and half an hour later I get back to bed, realizing that It's about 40 degrees and I didn't get issued a cold weather sleeping bag. I sleep with my flak vest on...it's warmer. This repeats itself 3 or 4 times that night. I greet the day at 0600 a.m. by my "wingman" telling me that we have to be at formation in 10 minutes, also it is beginning to downpour. I spend the next 3 days in a HMMWV turret getting pissed on for several hours a day. There are still no showers, and I haven't shaved in days (I'm sporting a nice beard), and I don't have any uniforms that aren't covered in a plethora of colorful mold. It's the last day of field training and I'm walking back from duty when I'm stopped by a Colonel who proceeds to chew my ass for appearing "unprofessional". He finishes by telling me to "Get out of my face and go the fuck back to Saigon". It's the final the last night and I don't bother with sleep, instead I lay in my cot with my vest and gear on...waiting. At some point the power generator for our tent chokes and dies out. In the culmination to a week's worth of bullshit, myself and my wingman walk out of the tent to examine the generator. I look at it, think for a minute, look at it again, and bash it with the butt of my weapon 5 or 6 times, cuss loudly and walk back around. When I found my way to the other side, I saw my wingman standing there with a terrible look on his face, and standing next to him were 3 Cadre...I knew I was in for trouble. Just as the Captain was preparing to scream at me I heard a series of gunshots and yells, this was the first time I was grateful that we were being attacked. We ran around to the other side of the tent, and in the shadows I saw a figure dashing between the tents, stopping only to turn around and shoot at me. In what seemed like slow motion I flipped my M16 to burst, took aim and started shooting. I could see the flash of light at the end of my barrel and the empty shells flinging themselves from the side of my weapon. His gear started beeping (The weapon has a laser on it that is activated when fired, and everyone wears gear that picks up the beam, and beeps when you get shot, it's like laser tag) so I stopped shooting. The attack was over and I went back into my tent. When I unloaded my magazine and counted the rounds I was left with 13, I had fired 17 rounds in the blink of an eye (I thought I had only fired 5 at the most). So we packed our crap and got on the buses headed for the airport the next morning having not showered in about 6 days. (We turned in our gear in the same hangar that the Hindenberg was built in, we were also not far from the crash site) I really owe the man who sat next to me on the plane an apology, but oh well. As our pilot was introducing himself, he announced that his copilot's name was "Rusty Bowell". (I'm really not making that up) I laid my head down, cursed New Jersey, and went to promptly sleep.

    So that was a span of about 8 days, there's really no point to that story, just throwing it in there for the hell of it.
    I'm doing science and I'm still alive

  5. #5
    Senior Member Alchemist's Avatar
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    Whatever: I love road trips. Your story reminds me of Fear and Loathing las Vegas, haha.

    MetalWounds: What branch of the military are you? Army Reserve? I remember goin' four days in the field without a shower, but a damn week? That sucks. Hard.

    Anyway, my older brother likes to eat onions whole. Isn't that crazy? I remember he'd just take it right out of the vegetable drawer, and bite into it like it was an apple. I was about five years old when I first saw him do this, and you know how kids are; they look up to the older ones.

    So one day I decide that I can be just like James. I grab up an onion and call for his attention: "Hey Jamie, check it out!" and take a big gnarly bite out of it. Maybe for a second it seems fine, until... BOOM! It hits me. The smell and taste of onion fills up my mouth, my nose, and I swear, it feels like it's coming out of my ears. So of course I end up bawling my head off, spitting the onion out all over the floor, and go running to mum. As I'm going up the stairs, I can feel all this snot running down my nose and into my mouth, pouring off my chin, which made it even worse. So I end up colliding with her and wiping my face on her shirt, but you know, she's one of those cool, sweet mums who's all sympathetic and asking, "Aww, what's wrong A? Sssh, don't cry... just calm down and tell me what happened..."

    I couldn't really gather my thoughts really well; plus the onion taste was still in my mouth. I ended up blurting out, "J-jamie... h-his apple! I ate it like an onion!"

    -A
    "Je ne craignais pas de mourir
    Mais de mourir sans etre illumine."


    "I was not afraid to die,
    But to die without being enlightened."

    -Comte de Saint-Germain, La Tres Sainte-Trinisophie

  6. #6
    almost nekkid scantilyclad's Avatar
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    yaye i love telling stories!

    and heres the first one that popped into my head when i thought about a story to tell:

    I had just ended a relationship that i was in for 4 years, and i was ready to start dating again, so i was on my 4th date with this pretty awesome guy (he was an ENTP). We had a really fun date that night, we went to the movies and decided to go back to my place to have a few drinks, and watch some tv, which ended up turning into a really long super hott make out session. So anyway, there we are on the floor making out hardcore and i hear a knock at my door. I get up off the floor, and smooth my hair down and put my shirt back on and look through the peek hole, and there he is, my ex boyfriend standing on the doorstep. He didn't know i had already started dating again and i knew he would be pissed, so i opened the door and went out outside and shut the door so he wouldn't know anyone was inside, but he immediately noticed that my shirt was inside out and then he knew what was going on, so of course he gets PISSSED and demands me to let him in the apartment and of course i say no and i tell him to leave, because i really didn't want any drama, and i really liked the guy i was dating and i didn't want him to ruin it.

    so anyway, he starts to leave, so i go back into the apartment and tell my date that it was my ex and he was having some issues. Our makeout mood was pretty much ruined so we just sat there for a few minutes and watched tv, and then all of the sudden here comes my ex boyfriend in my door, and he pretty much jumps on my date and starts punching him. Luckily he was a pretty small guy and i was able to pull him off my date. I pushed him up against the wall and looked at him, and he had this psycho look on his face that i had never seen before, so i slapped him to try to snap him out of it, and he just kept going on about how he was going to kill my date. I threatened to call the police and he said that if i did he would kill himself, which i believed, because i knew him quite well, and i also knew that he carried a gun in his car, so i promise him i won't call the police, and he finally leaves in a psychotic rage. I was really worried about him, so i call his mom to tell her to call me when he gets home, so that i would know he got home safe.

    Anyway, so after my ex leaves i'm extremely embarrassed that all this had happened. I apologized sooo many times to my date and he kept telling me it was okay, although i knew that he was never going to see me again. He was scared to leave, with my psycho ex boyfriend on the loose, so we shared my bed and he left the next morning. We went on a few more dates after that surprisingly, but after i finally had sex with him he stopped talking to me!

    the end.
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