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back around 1975 a friend of mine who worked for the Illinois Central railroad--i knew several stoners who worked for the RR in those pre-drug-test days, because it was great money if you were willing to spend half your time riding back and forth to Davenport, IA on freights--asked me to put together a band to entertain for a Cinco de Mayo celebration for some Mexican railroad workers at a roadhouse in Harvard, Illinois, about 90 or 100 miles outside of Chicago. in those days i had a broad community of musical friends and specialized in putting together one-shot ensembles at the drop of a hat, so i called in my friend Dan (the guy who's moving out here to join me soon), my drummer friend Tim (a MONSTER drummer with twin bass drums) and a bassist he knew, and ran through three days of my typical Nazi-martinet rehearsals.

we went out there, popped some prescription stimulants, set up in front of 100 extremely intoxicated Hispanic railroad guys, and opened with our "TAKE THIS!" one/two punch: "Les Brers In A Minor" by the Allman Brothers Band with the full twin-guitar harmonies, faked organ solo, and drum break played by a four piece band, segued into the mid-70s metalized version of "Uncle Sam Blues" by Hot Tuna, for which Dan switched to electric violin. we blew their heads clean off. they weren't expecting ANYTHING as loud, tight, or well-played as we gave them. we KILLED 'em. i sang the backing vocal on "Mona" so loud you could hear the voice bounce off the back wall, and then discovered my mic had been turned off the whole time. the closing version of "Lovelight" was something to behold. i even talked the guy who kept the door into paying us more than they'd originally agreed. my buddy who went along with us as roadie had a girl he met up there writing him love letters for months afterwards. it was the greatest gig of my life. Dan and i still talk about it today.

Too many finger crush stories. When I was 3 or 4, we had heavy windows apparently that needed to be held open. I removed the wooden spoon my mother had used to keep it up, while my other hand was on the sill. Fingers were broken.

Got too many physically painful stories.

Funny story:
I've played on some kind of oktoberfest-y thing with the marching band. The Austrian president was invited and showed up. So we played a few songs and decided to get him wasted. We gave him all the different schnaps we got, saying he should taste them. He pretty much got shitfaced and couldn't even walk or talk anymore. When we wrote an email to the presidents office to ask how he liked it, they responded with a few thankful words and a picture of aspirin as attachment ...

Schlatte wrote:Funny story:
I've played on some kind of oktoberfest-y thing with the marching band. The Austrian president was invited and showed up. So we played a few songs and decided to get him wasted. We gave him all the different schnaps we got, saying he should taste them. He pretty much got shitfaced and couldn't even walk or talk anymore. When we wrote an email to the presidents office to ask how he liked it, they responded with a few thankful words and a picture of aspirin as attachment ...

wut? Your Head of State is just hanging out with you (I didn't realize Austria had marching bands), and you each walk up to him and say, "Hey, drink this random liquid that just about anybody could be handing to you." and he says, "Sure, what the hell!"

Back when I had just bought my first scooter I decided I wanted to get cray on some shrooms. So I stayed up 24 hours and then took the shrooms at about 4 in the morning while hanging with my buddy at his gas station job. They started kicking in right about when the sun was coming up. About that time a lifted bromobile pulls in blasting Mr. Crowley and I am air guitaring the shit out of it next to his truck in the parking lot. Pumped, I hop on my scooter and start riding around downtown on streets that are beginning to resemble ocean waves. This gives me the idea that I'm a pirate. I start yelling "argh, me maties. Give me your booty" at the top of my lungs until I get kinda tired and decide this street sign looks real cozy.

I'm laying on my back with my legs at a right angle going up the street sign, when a car pulls over and a well dressed man with a toolbelt hops out. He's really interested in why I'm sitting like that, and tells me I can't be laying on the sidewalk. In my illicit wisdom I shout "this is America, man. I can lay wherever I want"

He tells me to go lay in a park. I start walking to the park (3 or 4 blocks away), and then turn around and say "can I leave my scooter here?"

Turns out, he's a detective. He's now running my, non-existent, license and registered to someone else's plates. I've got my TCB glasses on, so he doesn't see the dancing tricks my eyes are doing.

"look" he says "I don't give a fuck that your license is suspended, I just stopped to make sure you weren't hurt. But when you start spouting off about how this is America and you can lay wherever your want, I get a little worried. Don't lay on the sidewalk, get on your bike, and get out of here."

Sure thing...and then mushrooms start waving in again. He follows me while I'm captaining my ship for like a mile, and then I was free.

the first time i got high, i went with a friend to get some snax, and we went to a grocery store, and i had a lot of fun with the self checkout. but then i couldn't figure out how to pay, like you know how sometimes pushing the on screen buttons is a little off? well it was the longest minute of my life. i'm pretty sure that combined with the fact we bought like 20 dollars worth of candy, fig newtons and goldfish crackers confirmed we were high

All I got are sex stories and me eating in a tard like fashion.

What the hell let's do it anyways.

The story that I end of telling the most was when I was with my very first girlfriend. She was dumb, kind of a bitch, but had an amazing rack. She popped my cherry so it was the whole ,"first love" crap. One day she tells me what she cheated on me with one of the biggest douche bags at our high school. Instead of breaking up I tell her that she will make it up too me. So one night rolls around where her whole family is home and it is just about time to call it a night. We were just in the middle of getting it on when her dad starts to knock on the door too ask if I had left for the night. In what will be the greatest ninja moment of my life, I duck into her bathroom (she had one in her bed room) just enough so dear old dad could not see me in about what seemed to be 10 seconds.

I was at full mast with my pants down around my ankles, I did not have time to close the door so I was a heart beat away from being caught dead in the act. It was the longest 10 second conversation in my life.

With the situation done, I cash in the make it up card in the best way I could. I nearly broke her pelvis as I proceed to nail her in every uncomfortable fashion that my young perverted mind could think up off. The finish was a money shot that not only managed hit everything in its path but squarely in her eye. I get up, dress and got too my truck with out anyone knowing.

I celebrated with a mountain dew.

I high school I went to a rockin party with lots of food, liquor, and pretty girls.

As the night progressed I hit it off with a very pretty, not very bright, drunk girl. We found an empty bedroom in the house where the party was going on and we started to get bizzay! At one point, my very pretty, very drunk new friend was on top, riding me. All of the sudden, her cheeks puffed out and a giant stream of vomit spewed out of her mouth onto to my face, in my mouth, and up my nose.

Totally killed my boner and my buzz. She passed out and I went running out of the room to find a shower. Of course I was naked, covered in vomit, running around a party. Good times, Good times...

Short story:

When I was like 10 or so I thought: dissecting needle + slingshot = great idea. The first shot went right through a wall. The second shot angled a little downward and went 99% through my hand.

Like so:


To my credit, I didn't make a sound. I calmly put down the slingshot, went to the bathroom and pulled the needle out under cold water. Didn't mention it to anyone.

Hand story: a dog once bit my hand through - like a train ticket, DING and there it was...

shit story: once i took a shit in the middle of a pavement... a party later i took a shit in the thrashcan in a park

vomit story: once i didn't have any other option than to puke into a handbasin. It clogged... so i unclogged it with a violin bow and then threw it out of the window

DarkAxel wrote:vomit story: once i didn't have any other option than to puke into a handbasin. It clogged... so i unclogged it with a violin bow and then threw it out of the window

...a violin bow?

jfrey wrote:Short story:When I was like 10 or so I thought: dissecting needle + slingshot = great idea. The first shot went right through a wall. The second shot angled a little downward and went 99% through my hand.

DUDE. I just got a new strap for my sling shot like 2 weeks ago . Never shoot anything that's not mostly round... unless it's and arrow that can rest on the front. thank you for that. Might have a new story shortly

Ever story I ever tell is a "cool story" as in, boring and lame as FUCK.

Today, I was awakened by my supervisor calling to inform me that I was supposed to be at work at 7, and it was 8:30. Within 5 minutes, I was at work, in uniform, drinking coffee. On my way to work, I thought I was still dreaming because there was snow on the ground. Turns out, it had snowed at 4 AM, and, in fact, I was not tripping nearly as hard as I thought.

snipelfritz wrote:wut? Your Head of State is just hanging out with you (I didn't realize Austria had marching bands), and you each walk up to him and say, "Hey, drink this random liquid that just about anybody could be handing to you." and he says, "Sure, what the hell!"

Ummm... pretty much sums it up... yeah.
So 20 years from now I can tell my kids that I took a few shots with the president... back in the days

But srsly- our boss is badass.. a few weeks ago he was in the news again because he caused a huge debate over "is the president allowed to do dangerous stuff"... you know why?
he went skydiving... he's 73 years old.

The Burmese army torched a bunch of Karenni villages, killed the men and raped/killed the women and children – the ones that escaped crossed into Northern Thailand where they live in refugee camps right on the border with Burma. The Thai government doesn’t want them there but there’s nowhere else for them to go. The Burmese military occasionally sneak across and fire into the compounds for fun. Cunts.
Anyway, we used to run supplies into the refugee camps and stay and teach or help out any way we could. But officially we’re not allowed to be there. So one time the call goes up that the police are coming round so we were smuggled ourselves out to hide out in the Pa Dong long-neck hill tribe tourist trap village at the bottom of the mountain and pretend to be stupid tourists.
Hung out with a lady with a ton of gold rings on her neck who told us about the Dutchman who kept trying to buy her daughter…
Once the cops were gone, we went back up to the camp and I showed the kids that the world was round (using a potato as a prop), and that it went round the sun.