ilovefuzz.com

I'm interested in hearing them.

When I was 16 i lived on a military base. I was smoking cigarettes and skating on the sidewalk by the base exchange with a friend, when a 40ish year old woman approached me and said i was far too good looking to be smoking. She continued on mentioning that her husband is on leave and how she just bought an anniversary edition of a ford mustang and asked if i wanted to see it, we walk to the parking lot she shows me, tells me uninteresting shit about the car about how it was a pace car in nascar blah blah blah, and asks if i want to drive it. Well fuck yeah i wanted to drive it. she handed me the keys, gave me a few directions, ended up on her street and she pointed out where she lived. she asked if i needed to get back to my friend, i said i was in no rush. she said i might be interested in a guitar her husband played(a 60's gibson sg with a bigsby-style tremolo). she opens the door for me, guides me through the house to the master bedroom where the guitar was kept. SHIT HAPPENED I WENT HOME.

THE END

I saw a fox yesterday

he was so cute and cuddly looking, rolling around in the snow.

and then i saw, he was tearing apart a squirrel

wow don't think i can top those two!

when i was in 7th grade, i was leaning up against a heavy school door and my right hand was resting on the hinge-side of the frame. my best friend at the time decided to close the door for some weird reason, crushing my fingers in the process. i pushed against the door for him to stop, though he must have thought i was joking or something because he pushed back harder. i yelled and kicked the door hard enough to send him flying back and when i pulled my hand out, there was blood spraying on the wall. i immediately ran to the nurse and was freaking the fuck out when i got in there, where they basically gave me a pillow to rest my hand on and an ice pack to cover it with while the ambulance came. there came a point when the health teacher (who had come in the room) was just like, fuck it and drove me to the hospital himself (against school policy). when i got to the hospital, i had to wait for my parents to get there before they could give me any painkillers so i was sitting there with blood dripping on the floor for a good half-hour. after they got there, the iv went in and i was feeling just peachy...

then i decided to look at my hand, which at that point looked like a pile of dog food. thankfully, it was only my middle and ring finger which had gotten smashed, though i could bend the tip of either finger back to reveal the shattered bone, veins, etc. they were pretty much hanging on by a half-inch piece of skin. i received surgery on them - they had to use a little electric saw and cut of the rest of my fingernails on those fingers! the doctor did an excellent job because i regained full feeling in the tips of the fingers and they only look slightly different than the others (they're a little bulbous and the nails never really grew back correctly. i am extremely lucky to still have the tips of those fingers... if i didn't have them i may never have decided to play music! who knows?

I farted in to a pillow and walked in to my roommates room and asked him if the pillow smelled like fresh apple pie.

So back when I was in the Military and out defending the country I love. I once returned home only to find my wife had fucked some boner breathed 16 yr.old kid.
She also let that piece of fuck drive my new Mustang. She promised he didn't play my guitar but if I find out different, I'll cut her fucking neck off.

When I was like 15 I had sex with a dude at church camp.

sorry if this is long I just cut and pasted

also: MEC holy crap dude!


Death in the outfield


I had finally made it onto the field. It was a rare occasion for me my first and only year of legion baseball. Just out of little league and trying to fit in with and older and larger team, I was ill equipped to deal with the size and speed of the game. I was properly equipped to do only one baseball type activity, I could run. I couldn’t hit, couldn’t quite field, but I could fly around bases. This gave me an interesting role on the team, since I couldn’t hit I was assigned the little thought of Job of pinch runner. Our first baseman was large and slow and hit the ball a mile. In baseball terms he could stretch any double into a single. Late in games when we needed speed and he could not provide it I would take over his spot on the bases and prepare to run. I took my job seriously, my red spikes (no reason) laced up tight, and my legs fresh from not having to play for an entire game, I was the sprinter. On several occasions I had stolen bases during the course of the season and on one occasion I stole 2nd 3rd and them came home on a wild pitch. It was an interesting job and an interesting way to get in the game. One problem with pinch running was that I would then have to assume a position in the field; after my running was completed since I could run a bit I usually took over in some spot in the outfield for the rest of the ball game and hoped that no fly ball came my way. What I should have hoped for on one particularly beautiful summer night was that nothing at all would come my way.

It was a gorgeous summer evening, and I was fortunate enough to have gotten into the game earlier than anticipated, I made my way to left field one inning and did a few warm-up tosses. I was ready to play. As the inning started I watched intently as the pitcher delivered the first few pitches. I was fully prepared for any fly ball that would come into the outfield. I was not however prepared for oncoming traffic. Somewhere in between a series of pitches an engine revved in the parking area, then suddenly with out any type of warning a large sedan was barreling at me, it crossed the 3rd base line and headed right for my spot in the outfield grass. I did the intelligent thing and froze in place, partly out of fear and partly out of the understanding that I was not going to out run the car. At the last minute the car swerved around me and barreled for the out field fence. I had escaped, I was in a panic but still frozen in place watching the sedan fishtail through the outfield and then crash through our wooden fence, I thought the ordeal was over, and then I heard the engine rage again behind me and back through the fence came my 4 wheeled assassin. People, who I was just now hearing, were screaming for me to run, and I made a sprint for the dugout, ever aware of the car blasting around in left field. As I reached the dugout the car came to a stop in my spot in the outfield.
I was safe, but many questions loomed about the driver of the attacking vehicle. Most of those questions would be answered as the hillbilly knee jerk reaction started to unfold. Many of our fans and parents decided that someone was trying to kill me and responded in a way that was both endearing and insane, they gathered up our metal legion bats and headed for the outfield ready to bludgeon the hit man in the now resting vehicle. When they got there they found a poor old woman stunned first by where she was and then by the mob of attackers. Apparently she had an episode immediately after putting her car into drive, and had not been able to regain control until she came to rest in the outfield grass. What had been a terrifying experience for me must have also been one for her. She was frightened and confused, and needed to be helped off by EMT’s. I felt terrible for her, and for her grandson who was also on the baseball team. The angry mob transitioned itself into a group of men helping an old lady out of her car, and eventually everything came to a rest.
What had started of as fear now worked its way into relief and humor. The biggest question on most peoples minds was “why would you stand still as a car drove at you?” my response was simple “First time I have had a car drive at me during a baseball game” I reclaimed my position in the outfield, very aware of the tire marks around my spot, and then I heard a coach yell “Hey, if any more cars drive at you, why don’t you get out of the way” I waved my glove in agreement, heard a laugh from the crowd and the game went on.

That was my last year of baseball; the signs were there that it was time to let the game go on without me. Between the lack of playing time, the opportunity to start running track (where speed alone gets you on the field) and cars driving at me in the outfield, it was time to retire the red cleats and move on to bigger better things, although one could argue that there is very little in this country or in the world that is bigger and better than baseball.

Damn some fuckin weird stuff
At brian: I feel ya bro, same shit happened to my arm. 2(technically 3) surgeries, saws and ketamine and all that crazy shit. 1+ year rehab. BLeGH

I've had an adventure or two. Terribly irresponsible, and now I spend my days at home learning to crochet.

psychedelicrelic wrote:When I was 16 i lived on a military base. I was smoking cigarettes and skating on the sidewalk by the base exchange with a friend, when a 40ish year old woman approached me and said i was far too good looking to be smoking. She continued on mentioning that her husband is on leave and how she just bought an anniversary edition of a ford mustang and asked if i wanted to see it, we walk to the parking lot she shows me, tells me uninteresting shit about the car about how it was a pace car in nascar blah blah blah, and asks if i want to drive it. Well fuck yeah i wanted to drive it. she handed me the keys, gave me a few directions, ended up on her street and she pointed out where she lived. she asked if i needed to get back to my friend, i said i was in no rush. she said i might be interested in a guitar her husband played(a 60's gibson sg with a bigsby-style tremolo). she opens the door for me, guides me through the house to the master bedroom where the guitar was kept. SHIT HAPPENED I WENT HOME.

THE END

how did u not have sex with her
she was practically asking you to

I'm pretty sure he got Mrs. Robinson'd.

And I don't mean seduced by a guy in a black turtleneck with a cheap acoustic.

brian, when i was like 3, my sister's friend took my fingers, put them in that space between the door and the hinge and slammed the door on em. luckily they ended up ok, but yeah, i feel you man.

lol, "my sister's friend took my fingers, put them in that space..." sounded like it was going in a totally different direction for a moment there.

tuffteef wrote:

psychedelicrelic wrote:When I was 16 i lived on a military base. I was smoking cigarettes and skating on the sidewalk by the base exchange with a friend, when a 40ish year old woman approached me and said i was far too good looking to be smoking. She continued on mentioning that her husband is on leave and how she just bought an anniversary edition of a ford mustang and asked if i wanted to see it, we walk to the parking lot she shows me, tells me uninteresting shit about the car about how it was a pace car in nascar blah blah blah, and asks if i want to drive it. Well fuck yeah i wanted to drive it. she handed me the keys, gave me a few directions, ended up on her street and she pointed out where she lived. she asked if i needed to get back to my friend, i said i was in no rush. she said i might be interested in a guitar her husband played(a 60's gibson sg with a bigsby-style tremolo). she opens the door for me, guides me through the house to the master bedroom where the guitar was kept. SHIT HAPPENED I WENT HOME.

THE END

how did u not have sex with her
she was practically asking you to

...I figured that was included under "SHIT HAPPENED" also he ran off with that super cool guitar.