On Saturday night I had a dream in which I accepted the job of writing a book for young children, on the subject of wiping. I did it strictly for the money, and it somehow became the most popular thing I’d ever written, by far. A runaway bestseller…
The publisher was ecstatic, and pushed me to write several more books on the subject, and they flew off the shelves, as well. And suddenly I was being booked on cable television shows, and becoming known as “the wiping guy.” I was now an expert on the topic of toddler crack residue, and the removal thereof. Eventually I graduated from cable shows, to Oprah and other elite outlets.
But I hated every minute of it. I never asked for any of this… I wanted to free myself from my wiping prison, but the money was so fantastic I couldn’t let it go. I felt like a whore, traveling the country and doing personal appearances in front of mothers and pansy-ass dads. I hated my life, even though I was now extremely wealthy and world famous.
And then Andy started barking downstairs, and I jerked back into the real world. Then I grabbed my notebook and wrote: Idea for novel… A man trapped in a self-made hell of popular ass-wiping books.
Are there any armchair psychologists out there who’d like to try to analyze that one? Good god.
On Saturday afternoon Toney and I stopped at Wegmans for some stuff we needed for dinner, and a six-pack of the suddenly-rare Dogfish Head 60 Minute IPA. And the place was complete pandemonium.
It felt like a Moroccan street fair in that place, just wall to wall people. It was loud and crowded, and it seemed as if every fifth person was riding one of those battery-powered mobility scooters with a large shopping basket mounted to the front.
“Can’t anyone walk anymore?!” I whisper-hollered to Toney. “Holy shit, look around. Look at all these people shopping from a seated position. What’s next, one of those rolling Monkees beds?” But she just shrugged her shoulders and gave me the international sign for “What are you gonna do?”
And a few minutes later we were waiting in line to pay, and there was a riding cart in front of us with the president of the Class of 1927 aboard, and another came up from behind and rammed me in the ass. I turned around and an enormous woman was piled up on the apparatus, throwing a great strain on the motor, and she didn’t apologize or anything. She’d crashed that steel cage into my left butt cheek, and didn’t even acknowledge that it had happened.
As you can imagine, I “monologued” all the way home, and by evening my lower back was hurting. I don’t think the woman hit me hard enough to cause any damage, it was more of an annoyance than anything. But I was in pretty significant pain all Saturday evening, and Sunday morning. Maybe it was instant karma for me grouching about all the mobility scooters? Or perhaps that meat mountain threw one of my discs out of alignment?
I don’t know. But it’s better now, so who cares?
I hope everyone in North Carolina and Virginia, and anywhere else affected by the weekend tornadoes, is OK. Sweet sainted mother of Bobby Buntrock! If you were anywhere near that mayhem, please tell us about it in the comments.
Also, I’d like to know about the times you have been really, really scared.
When I was a kid there was a tornado near Myrtle Beach, where we were camping, and it scared me almost to the point of paralysis. I was young, but I’ll never forget it. The air was freakishly still and the sky was a really weird color. There was just a general feeling of menace. Then all hell broke loose.
That might be the most frightened I’ve ever been, but it turned out OK. Our awning ripped off our camper, while my parents were trying to take it down, and probably landed in Georgia. And some trailers tipped over, but it wasn’t anything like what happened this past weekend. I’m not sure my heart could’ve handled that scene.
Tornadoes scare the crap out of me, even though I’ve never really seen one.
I was also tremendously scared both times I encountered guns in a retail setting. Call me crazy, but I don’t much care for a firearm being pointed at me by a shaking, crazed hick. I’m simply not a fan.
When I was working at Fas-Chek a group of guys in ski masks busted in with shotguns, and stole a large amount of money from the safe. They used to cash payroll checks in that store, and the thieves knew exactly when to strike (Thursday evening), and got away with many thousands of dollars.
They made the cashiers lie face-down on the floor, and I thought they were going to start blasting. I was in the backroom, with some other stockers, and we were terrified. One of the thieves was walking around the store – with his shotgun – kicking open doors and looking around inside the rooms off the meat department, the deli, the produce section, etc.
We went way back into the overstock part of the backroom and hid, waiting for the horrible gun blasts to start. It was awful, but nobody was hurt. They just took the money, and left. And everyone went into the bathrooms, threw their underwear into the trash, and continued on with the evening.
And I’ve told the story about the guy who was blasting Rush through shitty car speakers, outside the convenience store where I was working. It was so loud the windows were shaking, and it was tinny and cheap-sounding. The driver came strutting into the store, massively drunk, and my co-worker told him to “turn that shit down.”
The dude started hollering a bunch of high-pitched hillbilly belligerence, went back to his car, and tore-ass out of the parking lot. We thought it was hilarious. But the laughter suddenly stopped when the idiot returned, about ten minutes later, with a gun.
He was shaking and saying “motherfucker” a lot, and pointing a silver pistol at us. Hoooly shit. I was convinced it was all going to end, right there, because we’d insulted some Old Milwaukee’d-up idiot’s car stereo.
But we talked him down somehow, and he finally left without delivering retribution for our high crimes. Scary stuff… That guy was wild-eyed, and crazy. It felt like anything was possible at the height of it, and some really bad stuff was probable.
Now it’s your turn. When have you been really, really scared? Tell us about it, won’t you? Use the comments link below.
And I’ll be back tomorrow.
Have a great day!
First beyotches!!
2nd! Insomnia can suck it!
“The wiping guy” – I laughed out loud at this.
Man, you have fucked up dreams.
Hilarious but fucked up.
A Monday morning with and A+ report and the Ryan’s Steakhouse classic. And Crossroads Road will be arriving by Thursday. It’s going to be a good week.
I blame Buck for the dream. He commented awhile back about keeping a copy of your book in the bathroom and using it for tp. Being a dear old friend it’s probably caused a subconscious fear.
I’d say, having to escape a raging fire in the apartment building I lived in about 6 years ago, was the scariest thing I’ve ever had to go through. Fire on first floor, I’m on third floor, stairwells completely black with smoke. I just held my breath and prayed that I didn’t trip over some poor bastard who had tried the same thing and didn’t make it.
Jeff, I work about 4 blocks from one of the areas that was hardest hit in south Raleigh, and on Sat. I left work at 3pm, and the storm hit there about 20 minutes later. My boss said the area looks like pick-up sticks, although his business wasn’t hit. I heard storm warnings on the radio, but I had no idea it was that bad until I got home and saw TV weathermen going crazy with warnings. It gave me an eerie feeling to know that the storm followed my path home, for about 6 miles before it veered off to the north east.
The most scared I can remember being was when my husband and I were driving across the Bay Bridge tunnel in VA late at night in 75 MPH winds, in a Volks beetle. I thought we would end up in the Chesapeake Bay and no one would ever know what happened to us.
Somebody was surely watching over you!
It’s a good thing you woke up our you would have found out your entire fortune had been lost to lawyer fees defending yourself against claims you were a pervert to dwell on such a subject. After years of living in poverty, at the age of sixty three you are welcomed back into the public eye as “Rollie”. You become a worldwide figure for Charmin dressed as a toilet paper roll.You’re doing commericials and end up on “You’ve Got to be Kidding” doing live remotes from regional airport bathrooms.
…
In the summer of 2009, I was really, really scared the ABC was going to renew “According To Jim” for the fall schedule again.
LOL, yeah Jim Belushi is a hack, living purely off his brother’s legacy.
The horror!
I learned at one of my favorite destinations on the internet that nobody cares about the weird dream you had last night.
My family lived in Kansas for a couple of years. Lord, that was scary….probably why I drink to this very day. But, anyway, we had several tornado scares where we’d all be huddled under the stairs to the basement. One tornado came *very* close to our subdivision, but we were never hit.
A few years ago, we were taking our son and a friend of his to Ret Lopster for our son’s birthday. The boys were sitting in the very back of the van in the 3rd row seats, our daughter was in her car seat in the 2nd row. We came to a stop light and the Evil Twin happened to look in the rear view mirror. A huge truck was NOT slowing down, so the Evil Twin inched the van up and over into the median area. That truck did not stop and ended up totalling the car beside us. I cried all the way back home because I knew if we had been rear ended, those boys would have been dead.
My only tornado experience was seeing a small one cross a highway about 200 yard behind the car I was in. By small I mean your average trailer park would been able to watch from their porches. Still, tornado.
As for fear, I’m writing this from the staging area getting ready to run today’s Boston Marathon. It’s 26.2 miles and the furthest I’ve run this year is 10. Jeff, please write a clever eulogy.
Wow! Junk, thats not much of a base, most people want to get at least (1) 20 miler under their belts.
Good Luck!
I would have prepped more, or at all really, but only found out I was in the race (won an entry in an online contest) 12 days ahead of time. I had been prepping for a half-marathon hence the 10 miles. I survived though, it was a great experience.
You “won an entry” into a marathon!!! What was second prize, running across California? Good job for finishing though.
Go junkfood! You should be proud.
I hate the fucking cart people. I don’t mind the fact that they are cripple; or in most apparent cases just really fat, surely due to some sort of glandular complication. It pisses me off that they think they are the fucking Pharaoh’s of the freezer section. They drive through barging and bullying. One day I’m just gonna do it and throw a role of Brawny in their way as they speed down the cookie aisle at a blistering 3 m.p.h. Then when they swerve to avoid the wreck the laws of nature will most defiantly dictate that the crazy inverse pyramid on wheels would tip on it’s side. Then the store would have to jack up prices on Gatorade again to pay for the hole they would have to cut in their roof and the rental of a crane large enough to lift the toppled grocery store motorist.
The only respite we are given as God fearing red-blooded Americans…or whatever you might be; are the carts that beep when they back up. I don’t know of a more satisfyingly juvenile level of pleasure than when a 42 year old 550 pound woman wearing a great blue tarp is backing up to the shelf to reach the cheap generic slim jims down near the floor and hearing “Beep-beep-beep-“ while she does it.
When I see these people, with their gallon tubs of nacho cheese perched on the basket of their spaz chariots, I think the move Idiocracy is less a mildly amusing comedy and more of a chilling prophesy 🙁
Movie, not move. Shit, pass me the nacho cheese tub.
“Spaz chariots” – God I love that phrase!
The most scardest I’ve ever been was when I first came to Alabama. The weather was crap and I was riding around with this guy down some backroads in his old blue truck. He suddenly pulled over and said, “Look at this!” as he was jumping out. So I got out too.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. There was a tornado coming across the cotton fields, maybe 3/4 of a mile away. It looked like it was headed straight for us and I could see plywood, or something, being whooped around.
When I finally realized what was going on I jumped back into the truck and forced myself into the floorboard, under the dash. My goal was to get stuck in there because I was sure the truck would be flipping in the wind shortly.
The noise was unlike anything I’d ever heard. He kept saying, “Wooooooo, Woooooooo, you son of a bitch, wooooooooooo!” but at a point I couldn’t hear him anymore because of the tornado.
The truck bounced around but it never got airborne. I guess the tornado went around us. He stayed out there the whole time. Maniac.
There are two times I can remember being terrified and both were on planes.
We were on our way to Italy a couple of years ago via Frankfurt. On the way over (it was night) and engine blew on the plane and we could see flames shooting out of the wing. The pilot got on the radio, told us what had happened and said “We’re going to get you to Frankfurt as quickly as possible. I was popping Valium like TicTacs.
Another time, about 8 years ago, we were coming home from England and we hit some turbulance that was like nothing I had ever been through before. My father always told me if I was afraid on a flight, just watch the flight attendants. If they aren’t panicking, you’re fine. Well, that time the flight attendants didn’t exactly have their best poker faces on. The wings were shaking and my husband and I were so afraid, we were holding hands (we don’t do PDAs).
Clearly, both flights made it okay, but I’m not a fan of flying. I don’t fly unless I have a fistful of Xanax available to me.
Happy Monday, Surfers!
I’m with ya sister!
Me too. My last flight to Frankfurt was pure hell. I was scratching at the glass like a fucking ferret in an aquarium. If I ever fly again, I want them to kidnap me under the cover of darkness, put me to sleep, and make sure I don’t wake up until I’m already there.
The second most scardest I’ve ever been was when I went to visit my great grandmother in the hospital. I was maybe 9 years old. I left to get a drink and when I came back I went into the wrong room by accident. There was a lady in there, sitting on the side of the bed. She was shaking her head “no” really hard and she kept going, “Ahhhh, yah, yah, yah, yah, yah……ahhhh, yah, yah, yah, yah yah,” over and over again. But she stared straight at me while she did it.
I just froze there because it was the craziest thing I’d ever seen. I have no idea what was wrong with her, but I’ve never seen anyone lose their mind like that. I can still see it perfectly today, as if it just happened.
Most scared………August 11, 1984. President Reagan was doing a mic check for his weekly radio broadcast and said, “we begin bombing Russia in 5 minutes.” The mic was live and he didnt’ know it. Within minutes the Soviets had over 500 aircraft in the air and had begun to redeploy naval assets and all of their armed forces went on full alert. I think scared shitless would describe it best. We immediately told them it was a joke and that we were not launching any kind of attack. We kept all of our forces at peace time readiness and didn’t do jack to prepare for the possibility they may attack us. The only thing we did was close both sets of blast doors to the mountain. Two days later, everyone finally came to their senses and stood down. Not a fun time.
That is unmitigated horseshit. The joke was never broadcast over the air. It was overheard by two engineers at the studio during the soundcheck and made its rounds by word of mouth and popular media in the coming days. The Soviet Army was put on alert for 30 minutes. THIRTY MINUTES. Absolutely NOTHING you wrote actually transpired the way you claim. If you know anything about The Soviet’s air defenses at the time you would know that it was almost impossible for them to have 500 standby aircraft in the air within days, let alone “minutes.” The reason why we didn’t do anything is because the situation didn’t merit any action. You’re completely full of shit.
Jesus man.
Holy shit…I’m glad my comment was accurate.
Calm down, Francis.
😉
Uh mister, I don’t think you know who you are talking to. Jerry was AT NORAD when this happened. But, if you know more than he does, you must be a fucking general at the Pentagon.
Big deal. He’s still wrong. You’re pretty naive to think that just because someone was stationed at a NORAD facility they are automatically privvy to all the details of the Soviet’s response to particular perceived threats. The fact is that the Soviets did not marshall their military forces in that manner, nor did the events transpire that way. Not even close. He can’t rewrite history to be more to his liking, no matter how badly you want him to be right. The facts are there for those who bother to look for them. It doesn’t take a Pentagon General to uncover them. Pick up a fucking book sometime.
To (correctly) quote The Gipper – “facts are stubborn things…”
So, you figured a comedy site like thewvsr.com was the best place to vent your angered feelings toward a comment post. Brilliant!
I’ve heard of NORAD. They are the outfit that tracks the progress of Santa’s flying sleigh every Christmas. I sure hope that congress doesn’t cut their funding in the upcoming months. They provide an important service to the American people.
No, you must be Don Francisco’s sister…..
Oh, sorry, this isn’t a Woody Allen movie is it
Well the wikipedia story lines up with what PS said and we all know how accurate they are.
Is that where you go to verify your facts? No wonder you believed his post without question. If you’d take the time to look at some serious historical texts, you’ll discover what I’m saying is true. I’m not angry at all. Just pointing out that virtually everything Jerry said in his post is wrong. Just doing my part to stem the tide of revisionist history and outright lies. But, if you’d rather remain ignorant of history and prefer to believe anything anyone posts on a blog comment section, have at it.
By the way, Lincoln was assasinated by Lady Gaga at Ford’s Theater. True story.
All I can say is this……………..It happened. I experienced it. Whatever did or did not make the 6 o’clock news isn’t my problem. I have absolutely no beef with you or anyone here. Simply stating fact. If you really believe that what you hear on tv or read in a book is actually what really happens in our world, you are going to be in for a very rude awakening someday. And by the way……I have a much better understanding of Soviet Air Defenses than you ever will. Want to compare DD-214’s? Did you even serve?
I’ll pop the popcorn.
You are wrong. You cannot present any factual information to back up your claims. Nothing. Just your word, which flies in the face of all empirical evidence. It’s almost like claiming that Hitler never invaded Poland – it feels silly that I’m even arguing with you. Oh, wait a minute. YOU knew the REAL truth, which was hidden from the public and the rest of the military; and is completely contrary to any historical record the world over. Every historian’s account, including the Soviets, are wrong. We understand now. So, since you are the possesor of such hidden historical knowledge, quit teasing us and tell us who really shot JFK. Pretty please.
Yes, I served honorably, but that has absolutely nothing to do with the facts at hand. I’m not here to compare dick sizes with you (here’s a hint – you’d lose). But you know as well as I that active duty membership doesn’t open up the secret world of forbidden knowledge to each troop. I can say that I prepared strategy maps of the European theater for all the Joint Chiefs of Staff, but that wouldn’t make a claim that WWII was actually fought in Sandusky Ohio any less ludicrous. You’re wrong. Deal with it!
I am not going to go get into a pissing contest about what I did in the USAF. The people that know me, know what I did, the clearance level I had, where I did it and who I served with. I thank you for your opinion and your service.
And I appreciate yours as well.
I believe the fact that you need to pull that stirring stick out of your bunghole.
I agree. Sometimes it’s a burden being right all the time. Cheers!
Jeez!! Been a while since we’ve had a real live flame war here on the surf report!
This is a humor site read mostly by incurable smart asses; don’t get your Blizzaks in a twist. I didn’t get my “facts” from wiki, I merely stated what’s posted there is in alignment with your “facts”. That was supposed to be “humor”. If Jerry says he was at NORAD and they were shitting bricks, that’s good enough for me. I’m not sure what history or who’s legacy you’re protecting. If you’re protecting Reagans legacy, I believe Sean Hannity has that covered.
Then why do you get so upset when I’m being a smartass? Do I have to submit a special form to engage in the smartassery? I mean, I know it’s tough for people to admit that they’re wrong, but I’m not sure who’s hiding the stick here…
You know, one sure-fire way to end the debate is right at your fingertips. Present any evidence at all to back up Jerry’s claims. Anything. Anything that will back up his assinine claim that the Soviets ordered deployments of aircraft (and where in the world did he get that over 500 number?) and/or diverted paths of Naval vessels to respond to a perceived threat by the US as a result of Reagan’s unheard joke. You can’t because it never happened. It’s fantasy. Period. At its very best, it’s an elaborate conspiracy theory, and not even a slightly convincing one. Good Heavens, people.
A question comes to mind: Who gives a fuck?
Oh, I’m not upset. I have no dog in this fight. I was 17 when this happened, my only concerns in August of 84′ was where the next 12 pack was coming from. Fast forward 37 years, I’m not terribly concerned with what happened yesterday or 37 years ago.
Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! *childish happy claps*
Smartassery requires humor; I think you have smartassery confused with Assholery.
Jerry’s story is true. I saw it on Fox news. Glenn Beck told me.
Doesn’t it suck being wrong, though? The most embarrassing part is when you realize that you’ve lost the debate, because you can’t, no matter how hard you try, produce one little teeny shred of evidence to support your lies, and then you look like a sucker in front of everyone? The only way you can potentially defuse the situation and save face is to finally proclaim “who cares?” (that’s always the best one – just admit to being a dumbass!) or make some stupid Fox News joke (the last resort of an uncreative mind). Maybe if close your eyes and wish hard enough, I mean really wish with all your heart; history will unfold the way you’d like it to be, instead of the way it really did. Yeah, I’m an asshole. Sometimes it takes an asshole to call people on their bullshit! Cheers!
This takes me back to the Great Danny Maverick wars of ’01-’03! This forum was built on disrespect until Jeff began to tame us all with his “question of the day” feature.
At least that’s how I remember it. *
*official disclaimer
Speaking of Lincoln – didn’t the recording engineers pick this up when he thought his mike was off? “Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak out and remove all doubt.”
I suppose the next thing I am going to read is that there isn’t really any such thing as Santa. Just go to your local library and look to see how many books there are about Santa. Moreover, check the NORAD website on Christmas eve while they’re tracking his sleigh. You Santa deniers can kiss my ass! What a bunch of stupid morons.
Also, if we’re having a penis contest, I want in. I have an average sized penis, but I should get style points for the intricate design work done when I was circumcized.
I’m with you on the Santa thing, Lee Harvey. And I’m writing to my Congressman to make damned sure that he doesn’t support the elimination of NORAD, on account of its (their?) nonpareil Santa tracking service.
However, I don’t understand how you could write “Also, if we’re having a penis contest, I want in.” I realize that it was written in jest, but it still had (and has) me cringing and shaking my head. Oh well…I guess you’re damned proud of the handiwork of the mohel (or the surgeon who played the part of the mohel). Best of luck in the contest.
Jesus Christmas! Who gives a fuck about 1984? Don’t you see that we’re ALL GONNA DIE?
Now I’m scared.
Oh no, madz, did I scare you? Hope not. I accept death (we’re GONNA DIE) but I’m not interested in being buried – just in case I wake up or something. I want to be put in an above ground tomb. In fact, I plan to have it built before I die. Maybe I’ll check it out and make sure it’s up to par.
…and you Easter Bunny deniers can kiss my ass, too…
I’ve met him. He’s just an ordinary bunny with a big big heart.
It’s also a little known fact that all of Santa’s deer were not just reindeer but a mix of reindeer, moose and elk.
And the rings around Saturn are made up almost entirely of lost airline luggage.
Next you’ll be saying the Muppets aren’t real!!!
I’m gonna ask Barbara Mikkelson…she knows everything. If she doesn’t she will make something up.
The cart people discussion brings up an interesting experience.
The handicapped parking spaces are definitely reserved for someone flying the placard. But what about the handicapped stalls in the bathroom? I’ve been accosted by irritated dudes in wheelchairs after doing my business.
Are these stalls “reserved”, or just built to accomodate?
Ask PS Rotector.
I’m not sure about that, but I am pretty sure that an overheard joke by a former President didn’t result in a military confrontation on par with the Cuban Missile Crisis.
Look in your Yellow Pages. There’s a Public Library near you.
“Gentlemen, it’s medication time”
Did anyone else find the real nurse ratchet sexy? Sure, she was a bitch, but that’s nothing a good bone couldn’t cure.
Not reserved, just for their accomodation. It’s reverse discrimination to cause a non-wheelee to shit their pants, just because a handicapped person rolls right in front of them to take care of bidness.
I always use the handicap stall – I like room to spread out
Good Morning Surf Reporters….
Scariest moment ever was getting caught in a thunderstorm on a big ass lake in Angliers, Quebec, Canada. Storm came out of nowhere and we were miles from camp.
Three grown men, 2 of which weighed close to 300 pounds and me, all of 10 years old huddled in the fetal position in the hull of the boat. We weren’t riding over the waves, we were crashing through them, taking water on with every swell.
We made it (obviously, I’m still here writing this), but I thought for sure we’d capsize or sink out in the middle of deep cold water.
Turns out that same storm was responsible for the deaths of 13 Explorer scouts on the next lake over. They were caught out in open water in canoes. Every one of them capsized. If the poor bastards didn’t drown, they died of hypothermia.
Very scary shit.
Ya know that pulg they ues to plug into the wall to recharge those scooter things?…well…I met a wonderful orb of a woman who said her husband has invented a little box “with a chip in it” that you plug the thing into when you get on and you can do 28mph. She said she likes to ride at night up and down the frozen food aisle and watch the motion sensor lights in the cases try and keep up. “Beat ’em every time”, she told me.
I’m not sure if I believe that dto, I’m going to ask PS Rotector if that is true…
I agree…28mph does sound a bit far fetched considering the power to weight ratio match up here. She seemed quite sincere while snorting with enthusiasm though..
Scardest I’ve ever been was over the whole Y2K thing. I had a slip of paper with my personal information (name, sex, SSN, date of birth, etc) on it in my shirt pocket. I was convinced that at the stroke of midnight my brain would reset and I’d forget everything.
I laid in the bath tub, eating potted meat.
I was right there with you, metaphorically speaking of course.
Let me be perfectly clear for the record that I’ve never been in a bathtub with T Farty. Didn’t the president say the exact same thing just last week?
I might have included sexual orientation on that list. I REALLY wouldn’t want to get that one wrong.
Parts of this comments section had me more scared than I’ve ever been.
Except for a couple of frightening events involving Paul Stanley (I believe I may have mentioned this fear before…).
Most scared: August 1980, 11 years old. A massively severe thunderstorm came through our Detroit suburb one morning knocking down trees, throwing picnic tables and lawn furniture around (including onto peoples roofs), and blowing bicycles and Big Wheels away; a couple of garages and toolsheds were even collapsed. My little sister and I huddled under a workbench in the basement listening to the wind and hail pelting the house, while our Dad kept running back upstairs to watch the destruction. Maybe not the worst storm ever to hit the area, and obviously, absolute chicken feed compared to whats been going on lately in North Carolina, but I’d never really seen weather that felt like it could kill me before…
I was down in the Pine Barrens, NJ when a massive brush fire broke out. We had to hose the roof of the house every so often praying some spark wouldn’t land and we’d all go up in flames. I distinctly remember packing up cars waiting for the “EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY” to come over some PA.
About those motorized carts – how come the people riding them can somehow walk into the store unassisted before slamming their ham hocks into the seat and rolling off? Some of these people clearly need more walking, less riding. You know what I do? I stare. You’re good damn right – I stare at all the crap in their cart which clearly comes from the 7th unheard of part of the food pyramid “Processed Vile Shit”.
That reminds me of the one I witnessed……A beachball with legs motoring all over the grocery store, oxygen tubes and tank in tow. Since she “can’t” reach the top shelf, she would wait for some unsuspecting shopper to reach for her.
I some how manage to end up at the check out at the same time as her. Out in the parking lot I see her get up out of the chair, light a cigarette and walk to the car that picked her up. Unbelievable.
Hey Farty;
That raises a question. If you were found dead in the bath tub, would it be difficult to determine your sex?
Do you have a really small pecker or extremely large piss flaps?
Please explain.
Oh no, my penis is magnificent. For Halloween I paint it gray and throw it over my shoulder, then go as a gas pump. I’ve LOST more ass than I’ve gotten, simply because of the terrifying size of it. Even now, I have to promise my wife that I’ll put both fist at the base of it before she’ll agree to get run through.
I just wanted to be covered in case my brain shorted out during Y2K. I wanted to have as many facts as possible, that’s all.
Thanks for the explanation.
I knew you would come up with something entertaining.
Hey Farty…Was this a FULL service gas pump? Where did you have people swipe their debit cards?
I refused to take debit cards. Only cash or cans of pasta.
NORAD needs to give Santa an address list cos’ I didn’t get shit last Christmas. I know they have one because I filled out my census form.
We’re safe and sound here in EOTGW, NC. We were literally surrounded by tornadoes, but none hit our little corner of earth. A mere six miles down the road, however, is utter devastation.
I have a long list of Moments of Massive Panic, but the one that stands out took place at Dulles back in the 90’s. It wasn’t long after the 1st bombing in NYC, and security was maxed out. I was flying home (to MAINE, from WV) for a visit, and managed to set off the security alarm. I was surrounded by large, scary men within seconds. I am a mere 5’4″, and everyone around me averaged 200# plus, and over 6′.
I was highly annoyed to find out that my BARRETTE had set off the alarm. [I had really long hair.] I shaved my hair down to a near crew cut after that.
This is the first time that I’ve found the comments section more interesting than the article (Sorry Jeff, no offense!)
The scariest thing? Waiting for Cyclone Yasi to hit us. They tracked it from Fiji to NE of Oz and said it was going be one BIG MOFO. I’ve been through big cyclones before but this thing was huge! Luckily for us it went a little further south so we were spared the worst but the poor bastards south of us got cleaned up.
Hey Jeff, saw this and thought you might be interested:
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1378131/App-allows-authors-hold-eBook-signings-Kindles-iPads.html
My scaredest moment was the night the dude with the gun told me to give him all my money. Afterwards, as I was walking away, I kept expecting a bullet between the shoulder blades.
No significant weather here in northern Virginia, just all-day rain on Saturday.
At my Wegman’s, we don’t get enough Lardoons (my name for members of the Hundred Stone Club) to make their behavior noticeable. We get plenty of your run-of-the-mill “I drive my shopping cart just like I drive my Suburban” crowd.
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I live in Oklahoma (born and raised) so around here we are accustomed to having things vacuumed off the earth and redeposited randomly all the time. I will never get used to the loss of life though. The scardiest I have ever been was when a tornado skimmed across the lake where we were camping, I was about 12 or 13. It sucked up a huge amount of water dumped it on our campsite, shredded all the tents, scattered all the ice chests around, and blew all the tops on all the cans of pop and beer in the them. We had the old fashioned metal coleman ice chests that have the slide closure thing so it didn’t open the ice chests. Just the pressure change of the funnel (which had lifted) passing over caused them all to pop open. We all hid out in the corrugated metal shit hole thing that was concreted to the ground. I have never been so glad to be in a nasty open latrine in my life.
Well, that time I was driving to the Valley regional airport and there was lighting all around, and SNOW, was a real corker. Saw more than one guardrail get blasted that afternoon.
Or that time I was being peeped on while babysitting as a 12-year old. Fucker kept hissing shit near the windows after the toddlers were in bed, and when I moved upstairs the rocks started pelting the windows. Gives me the willies thinking about it now.
Or that time we were on canoes in the middle of a huge lake on the first of 2 lakes to cross before camping, and over the ridge comes this giant frigging thunderstorm that turned the sky black, the crows while, and my bowels to water as almost unremitting lightning and peals of thunder tried to scare the skull right off my head. It almost worked. I was hypothermic by the time we scrambled on shore and really ready just to take a big sleep. I can now understand why people choose to freeze to death, It’s not so bad, actually.
Hey – my life has been pretty exciting! Somehow I wish it hadn’t.
crows ‘WHITE’
– no brakes on the freeway
– years ago – my 12 year old son (and about 300 other people) were skating on the bay. I went to pick them up but they weren’t where we had arranged to meet. hmmm…They must be over by all the police and fire trucks. When I couldn’t find them, it quickly dawned on my that my son and his friend were the ones who went through the ice and were now at the hospital. (He and his friend tried to use their hockey sticks to rescue an old guy that went through the ice – they went through too).
– same boy being born… about 35 hours in to it I thought for sure I was going t lose both my wife and our baby.
– Asthma attack – never felt quite so alone before
– Evacuating people out of a full arena when a bomb threat was called in
– camping with our six month old baby – her hands were ice when I woke up early in the morning… I thought I had killed her…
no wonder I drink.
I don’t drink
I should
Wow, scarey stuff, but that one where you realize it was YOUR kid who went thru the ice must have taken some years off your life expectancy.
Many years ago I was dating a guy whose best friend ran an exotic pet business out of his house. Because I am deathly afraid of snakes, I only went to the friend’s house after multiple reassurances that there had not been and would not be any snakes roaming free. The guy did have a snake in an aquarium in his living room, and I don’t know why, but I am usually ok with snakes that are well contained.
Anyway, I went to the friend’s house many times without incident, but apparently my snake phobia was a problem to my host. One night the three of us were sitting in the guy’s living room, and the guy asked if I wanted to see something. Nope. He assured me I would like what he had to show me. I assured him that I wouldn’t. He promised me that it didn’t involve allowing any snakes to roam free. I reiterated that I was not interested. I didn’t want to be rude, but I know my limits, and the snake in the aquarium was pushing them.
After much insisting on both sides, he got up and left the room. When he came back he lifted the corner of the lid off of the aquarium and dropped something in. It was a mouse. He thought he could upset me by making me watch the snake eat a mouse, but the snake wouldn’t cooperate. The snake had no interest in the mouse.
Undeterred, this guy took the lid off of the aquarium, presumably to retrieve the mouse, but instead decided to ‘help’ me with my phobia. He insisted that I was only afraid because I think that snakes are slimy and if I would just touch the snake, I would know that it isn’t slimy and I would no longer be afraid. That would be incorrect.
He brought the snake toward me and kept insisting that I touch it. He did this until he was holding the snake in my face after backing me into a corner. My *boyfriend* finally spoke up and said, “I think she really is afraid of snakes.” To which our host replied, “You know what. I think she is, but I think it’s because this snake is small and squirrelly.”
Our host got up and left the room, and when he came back he dropped a 14 foot anaconda on the floor.
Upon rereading this post I realize that the gratuitous use of the word snake may lead some to believe that this is really just sexual innuendo. I assure you that it is not. Please reread the post exchanging the word snake for spider or bee or rat, and you will see that this was truly a very frightening experience. Do not exchange the word snake for gerbil though, because that makes the whole thing sound really dirty.
Holy shit. I would have been in tears and definitely hyper ventilating (I substituted “bee” for snake.) I can’t stand when some asshole tells you not to be afraid. You should have grabbed his junk and used it like a stick shift.
Madz, I wish I had had the presence of mind to grab his junk and use it as a stick shift. All I could think about was maintaining long enough to formulate an exit strategy.
I’ve had several scary incidents. The ones that stand out recently are close calls on the bike with some asshole not paying attention and pulling out in front of us.
Once, with my late husband…which resulted with him chasing the guy and me on the back of the bike along for the ride. The chick in the back seat kept flipping us off which just pissed off my husband even more. We were weaving through my neighborhood until my husband stopped, parked the bike, and waited for the guy to come around the corner of a one way street. He picked up a brick and wailed it, hitting the back window of the car in just the right place, blowing it out in shards inside and outside of the car.
Nice car too. Fairly new. I guy just sped off. I was worried he was on his way back for a brawl but my husband said…”Trust me…the mother fucker’s on his way home now thinking of what to tell mommy about her brand new car”.
About 10 years ago and beyond, that’s the same thing I would have done. Today, not so much, with everyone and his brother ready to sic a lawyer on you or crazy bastards who come back with a semi-automatic and Charles Mason eyes.
No kidding. This world is fucked now. A couple of boys get in a fist fight and it makes national news. Everyone is “astonished”.
Danny Maverick is a blast from the past. AngryWhiteGuy had everyone wanting to murder him.
You are correct, Jason. Although that was in the ’04-05 season, Danny and his budding lawyer, crack addicted, plagerizing ways seemed to stir up hidden hatred among the club here. I am pleased that he struck up so much anger. I had intended for him to die with a fake obituary on April 1, only to come back and make people want to drive to Texas to kill him themselves. However, I killed him off a little early, as to not get Jeff in trouble for some kind of copyright inringements. Danny was actually a character in a book I wanted to finish, but never had the time or ambition. JK makes me a little jealous that he has been able to find that time.
Got followed through a parking lot at night by a crackhead last summer; heard his footsteps, wheeled around and yelled at him like you would yell at a dog — “NO! STOP!” — and he hesitated, then decided to go for it and started towards me again. I started reaching for my knife and told the guy “Don’t FUCKING try it, not today” as I told the girl to get in the car and lock it. He noticed me going for the knife and he took off running. Scared the hell out of me, but I’m sure that wasn’t the worst thing that’s ever happened. I thought for sure I was going to get shot though. Knife to a gun fight and all that. Now I bring the pistol along…
Bringing a gun is much better. When I’m walking to my car, or whatever, anyone within 50 feet of me gets shot, no questions asked. That way I’m SURE I’m safe.
Nine innocent people have died because of this policy, but I’ve never been mugged. The results speak for themselves.
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My roommate’s gun has 9 bullets in it.
Reading these comments tonight was good for my soul after the shit that happened at work.
i was hoping to see dicks being measured but alas only in words..
Most scurred? Two times about 2 months apart in early 1999, first was a mugging by a very large angry black man, the second was getting kicked in the neck by a dirty mexican. That one landed me in the hospital for a week.