Youthful Indescretions

[tonytohono]

The Starbutt story is great stuff Ring. =)

[gigglesnort]

Having known the man for all of three months, one morning we decide what great fun it would be to get married! And so we did.

After the brief and meaningful ceremony, a trip to my mother's house to announce hte good news. (Imagine mom, nice midwestern farm girl, traditional republican values, sunday school teacher, etc).

ME: "Mom, uh, did I introduce you yet to John? Well, guess what? We just got married!!!"

MOM (artificially optimistic): "Well, I guess we should take a picture!"

[Donita]

It seemed like a good idea at the time. I was really into science experiments (of my own) when I was 6 years old.
I took the lamp off my dresser, removed the shade and placed lamp on floor.
Little girl voice inside my head, "Hmmm, what would happen if I put a wet washrag on top of that hot lightbulb??"

**LOUD POP**and bright light POOF**

Never did that again. Scared the shit out of me.

NTS (as a 6 year old): Water and electricity do not mix.

[Donita]

It seemed like a good idea at the time. Another science experiment (of my own). We lived on a farm when I was 11. I was the oldest of 6 at that time. My brother Jerry was 9. We were messing with the horses and cows out by the electric fence.
Little voice inside my head, "Hmmm...what would happen if I touched this electric fence??" **Z-z-z-ZAP** "HOLY FUCK!!"

Little voice inside my head, "Hmmm...what would happen if I held my brother's hand and touched this electric fence??"
**Z-z-z-ZAP** My brother smacked me really hard.

NTS: Electric fences and little girls do not mix.

[Donita]

Youthful science experiment #64:
I was 7 years old. My baby sister Kimmy was 1. When she came into the family, she became my little "live" babydoll. I set her in her highchair one morning while Mom was making pancakes in the kitchen. Little voice inside my head, "What would happen if I pointed this toy gun with its suction-cupped darts at my baby sister and shot her in the forehead??"

Theory: Like the cartoons on TV, it would stick to her forehead and baby sister will laugh and giggle, in turn making me laugh and giggle.
Reality: Suction-cupped dart does not stick to baby sister's forehead. It makes baby sister scream in pain, leaves a red mark, and Dondi (me) gets the spanking of the century. I did not get pancakes for breakfast either.

NTS: Nothing happens like it does in the cartoons.

[Donita]

Mine seem so pale in comparison. *sigh* All I can remember about any youthful discretions of mine are that they were intentionally innocent, but ended up with me getting grounded or spanked.

Like the time when I was 8... It was during the 60's -- the Summer of Love. I went to my Mom in the kitchen with my little tye-died t-shirt on and these daisies in my hair and said, "Mama, I wanna be a hippie!!" (I have a poem about that somewhere...) Anyway, she said said I was too young to be a hippie, and scooted me off, telling me to go play with my Barbies. She would let me wear tye-dies, but I can't be a hippie??!! So, I got pissed. I was furious with her and stomped off to my room crying! (my tantrums were so cute!) I slammed my bedroom door! I threw all my Barbies out of their suitcase! I started packing my clothes!

"I'll show that mean witch! I'll run away! I'll leave! I'll go to Haight/Ashbury and join a commune! Hmpfh!" I cried so much that I fell asleep and took a little much-needed nap. When I woke up, I was feeling calmer, artistic and very creative. I got out my paints and painted psychedelic flowers all over my walls and the words MAKE LOVE in big red letters.

Mom and Dad were not amused. I scrubbed walls for a week.

[Zulegoona]

Donita I love that story, Peace

[Donita]

"Mama, I wanna be a hippie!!" (I have a poem about that somewhere...)

True story...

Little Flower Child (written February 2003)

When I was a tiny little girl -- only 8
I wore daisy chains all round my hair
Long legged, frayed, jean bell-bottoms were hip
All my grandma could do was just stare

A lava lamp danced in my bedroom
Behind doors I would sing, "yeah, yeah, yeah"
My mom turned me on to the Beatles
My dad turned me on to the Dead

It was the decade of the 60's
Some called it the Summer of Love
I remember embracing the music
Watching rainbows and clouds up above

So I went to my mom in the kitchen
With the flowers all up in my hair
And I told her with great conviction
"Oh, wait....do I even dare?"

I mustered up all of my courage
As I sat on the kitchen stool
"Mama, I wanna be a hippie!
And spread Love because I am so cool!"

Well, she didn't take me all that too seriously
For I was a child -- only 8
"Go play with your Barbies now, honey,
Play outside with your bike and your skates."

"But, Mom!" I declared, with a smile on my face
"I love flowers, peace signs, and tye-dies!"

"But you're too young to be a hippie," she said.
So I stomped off to my room and I cried!

"No June Cleaver aprons for me!" I declared!
I was pissed! I was angry! My nostrils were flared!
"I'm packing! I'm leaving! Gonna join a commune!
Off to Haight/Ashbury I go!
I'll dance under the moon! Hmpfh!"

And so it began -- my Days of Rebellion
For a child -- only 8 -- with her dolls
I didn't quite know what it meant at the time
When I painted MAKE LOVE on my walls

Mom wasn't amused
And neither was Dad
I scrubbed walls for week
'Cause they said I was bad.

But then Mom softened up
And I did it again
I painted psychedelic flowers
All over her van!

When she saw what I did
She shook her head with a smile
'Cause there was no stoppin'
Her little Flower Child...

So, now I'm in my forties
Still an Earth Child, yes indeed,
But instead of playing with Barbies,
Today I smoke my weed!!



Peace, Love & Psychedelic Hugs....

[Donita]

I was 9 years old. My younger step-sister Denise was 7. A real pain in the ass at that time of our lives. My dad was married to her mother. We were forced into being sisters. She hated me. I hated her. Since I was the oldest kid, I always got the blame for anything and everything when the younger ones got into trouble. I never understood the logic in that one. But the grownups said, "Dondi, you're suppose to be a shining example to the younger kids." Anyway, Denise was always getting into mischief and trouble...which got me into trouble for not watching what she was doing. So, one day I got back at her. Actually, I got back her many times over the years.

This was my first experiment on her.

We had a cherry looking pink and white Cadillac during those days. Bigger than a boat, as big as a whale. Occasionally, to get away from the younger brats...er, I mean, siblings...I would go and hide in the car and pretend to drive. It was a cool car. Power windows. Way cool for back then. Denise found me playing in the car. I locked the doors so she couldn't get in. She started throwing a hissy-fit and threatening to tell on me. I rolled down the windows about 2 inches. "You want in?" I asked her. "You better let me in or I'm telling!!" she screamed. Denise stuck her fingers in (stupid mistake), trying to push the window down to unlock the door on the passenger side.

Little voice inside my head, "What would happen if I pressed the power window button UP all the way as far as it will go and squish her fat little fingers in the window??" So, I did it. And it hurt her. Hurt her bad. She was screaming and crying like a stuck pig!

I'm sure I probably got a whippin' for that one too. But it was worth it.

[samtzu]

You are an evil woman....

I like that.... but I'll watch my fingers around you...

... actually, you should watch my fingers when their around you...

sorry, that's the Marxist in me...

[Ranger Genius]

NTS (as a 6 year old): Water and electricity do not mix.

Your first mistake there was in mixing cold water and hot glass. There are a number of important lessons I learned in chemistry class:
1)cold glass looks exactly like hot glass.
2)one decimal place can make a BIG difference.
3)never pour molten zinc (or any other metal) into a wet clay crucible. There are long drawn-out stories for each of these lessons, but the morals of the stories let you fill in most of the details yourselves.

[cowboyangel]

You are an evil woman....

I like that.... but I'll watch my fingers around you...

... actually, you should watch my fingers when their around you...

sorry, that's the Marxist in me...

Question: Why did Grouch always paint his moustache instead of growing one?

[samtzu]

You are an evil woman....

I like that.... but I'll watch my fingers around you...

... actually, you should watch my fingers when their around you...

sorry, that's the Marxist in me...

Question: Why did Grouch always paint his moustache instead of growing one?

They started in Vaudeville, and when the very young (seventeen?) Groucho wanted to look older for the "School Daze" skit, he grabbed some grease paint and put the mustache and eyebrows on... it became his trademark as much a Harpo's fright wig... Fortunately, they dropped the blacked out teeth bit...

[geekster]

When I was a kid there was a popular show on TV called The Aadams Family. Uncle Fester had this thing he would do where he could put a lightbulb in his mouth and cause it to illuminate. It didn't take long for some company to come out with an "Uncle Fester Lightbulb". It was a flashlight bulb in a plastic lamp bulb of standard size with a pair of contacts on the screw end. You placed a piece of foil on your tongue, placed the bulb in your mouth, touched the foil to the base of the bulb and it completed the circuit and lit the lamp.

It took exactly ONE day for me to want to see what happened when the bulb was screwed into a real light socket and powered up.

They explode and that causes severe parental unrest. Noted.

HINT TO MANUFACTURER: You should have made the base slightly LARGER than a standard light socket or maybe even used left-hand threads.

[Donita]

This is so free-ing....

3rd grade: There were lots of fields out back of our house at that time. My younger brothers (Jerry & David) and I would hop the fences where these big black bulls with horns were grazing. We'd wave red bandanas at them and pretend we were famous matadors. We'd get a bull to start charging towards us and then we'd run like hell, hop back over the fence to safety, watch hysterically as the bull snorted and grunted.

[Donita]

8th grade: By now I was the oldest of 8 kids. I had to babysit a whole lot, which really interfered with me hanging out with my friends. I was resentful about this for many years. I had a life too, ya' know. One night our parents were out to dinner, or getting drunk, whatever. Babysitter Donita was on duty again. David (4th grade) was being a irritating little snot, so I screamed at him to go take a shower and to get into his jammies. Being the little creep that he could be at times, he called me a bitch and then slammed the bathroom door and locked it so I couldn't get in there to pulverize him!

First off, I'd like to say (in my defense) that I am a very loving person. I love children. I loved my siblings. BUT, do not piss me off or be an irritating snot, or pick on the other younger kids, or push me to the brink, 'cause I will kick your ass, torture you and make you wish you never messed with me. (Hmmm, seems I've acted this way in my adult-life too at times. Scary...)

That being said, before David got out of the shower I got a bright idea. As he was coming out of the bathroom, wrapped in nothing but a towel. I grabbed him around his body, dragged him to the front door which was pre-opened, and then I threw this little ass out onto the porch in the snow, ripped away his towel, and slammed the door and locked it.

I still giggle when I think back to that. I can still see him grabbing his winkie, shivering like a popsicle, trying to hide behind a bush, screaming and crying for me to open the door.

I left him out there for a good 10-15 minutes. Heh heh.

[RingO'Fire]

...I still giggle when I think back to that. I can still see him grabbing his winkie, shivering like a popsicle, trying to hide behind a bush, screaming and crying for me to open the door.

I left him out there for a good 10-15 minutes. Heh heh.

Donita,

You are (or at least were) mean and evil!

I'm so proud of you!

[Rian Jackson]

mean and evil.. donita.. you don't host bingo... do you?

[Donita]

I didn't start to remember this stuff until I read you guys' stories.

[dougaldutch]

Well I thought I would share this random side note. I have decided to name my new boat and abode "Youthful Indescretion" and was wracking my brain as to realise where it was familiar from. I thought possibly from the Iain M Banks books "the player of games" as there is a culture ship named such. Didn't sit right with me until I stumbled across this thread and then it all clicked into place... clicked happily into place.

Random side note complete

Dougaldutch

[Monkeypoo]

*bump*

I want more stories from Ring...

[Zulegoona]

This was a good thread and when I saw it go by in the bot invasion I thought we should bring it back up our selves, I’d love to read the exploits of some of the newer e-playans.

Besides with ring around again he might regale us with some more great stories.

[Monkeypoo]

**waves to Zule** Where is Ring these days? Haven't heard a peep from that man in a long time. Miss his stories. He's evil in a good way.

[lurker]

My greatgrandfather had a farm. Every now and then we'd go and spend a weekend or a week on it, usually with a horde of cousins, aunts, uncles and assorted four(or more) legged creatures.

Every visit started out pretty much the same, the adults would go in and talk and the kids would hang around outside playing. There was always cool weird new stuff lying around.

One time, after the adults had settled into their inane babble, we all wandered around the back of the house and found these huge stacks of pillows. Lots and lots of them(enought to jump of a ladder into--which we did) We were having a great time, jumping around, having pillow fights. We never stopped to wonder where the pillows came from. These big pink pillows.

Now, that last line probably made some of you nod sagely, and maybe some of you even gasped.

Eventually we started noticing how itchy we were getting, and some of the littler kids were actually hurting. But it wasn't until an aunt, who'd decided that we were all being way too quiet, came out to see what we were doing and screamed that we realized that anything was really wrong.

The pillows were large squares of fiberglass insulation, needless to say. And we all got a very intense lesson on what happens when fiberglass gets under your skin.

To this day, I can't walk down the insulation aisle at a hardware store without my skin trying to make a break for it.

[Zona_the_stona]

lurker,

The same thing happened to me as a child. I was playing behind our appartment when I was probably 4 or 5 years old. I was jumping on the fiberglass from the wall, laying in it and just playing around with it. My mom came back to find me all itchy and crying. I had to soak in hot water.. I remember being miserable.

[lurker]

I don't know why exactly, but that makes me feel a lot better.

I've always gotten the impression that not knowing was rather idiotic on our part.

But damn. It was so soft--and pink

It's nice to know that there were others who could not resist the allure of the Pink Menace.

Did you get the lecture about what could have happened had you accidently swallowed any of it?

[Zulegoona]

tell us another story , Ring WE want a Story, Story, Story, Story

[ibdave]

Here's one of mine.
The year was 1977. Place was Walla Walla Wa. I was in high school and lived right across from the school. ( I still drove to school everyday).
Part of a long tradition was for someone to build a dam across the small creek that ran through the campus. I organized a small group of fellow students from all the different cliques. This was to keep the finger pointing to a minimum, and me out of the dean of students office. So late one night after all the planning was done, we gathered at my house in the barn and went to work. The school was just on the edge of town and not alot of traffic at night. But we still setup the lookouts with CB radios. We started to haul all the fixings over the to the creek. The campus had 2 foot bridges. We choose the closest one to the road.. We had precut the railroad ties to fit and lock under the overhang. Then used canvas conveyor belts to form the watertight seal...
The lookout would call in with a few heads ups and we would hide till the cars passed. We also "found" an old row boat to float. When all the celebration was done, we cleared out. Just after all were gone the cops came looking for "US".. Well I was still outside while they were knocking on the doors. I had to crawl through our field to get back to the house. I always left my basement window available for those late nights. I got in and in to bed as the cops were walking down the stairs... When the school started the dam had worked so well that one half was flooded ,and close to getting to the buildings. Crews were trying to tear it down with chains and tractors..
Well Graduation and yearbooks came out at the end of the year. I didn't know it, but one of the pictures that we took made it into the yearbook.

We did the dam a total of 3 times in two years..

Thanks for letting me trip down the 70s

[theCryptofishist]

out of the past come the hoofbeats of the great horse silver...

[can't sit still]

I had 8 brothers and sisters so we were considered more or less,,,expendable. My father bought me some nitrates and perchclorates.
I was in pyromania heaven. I graduated up from match-head pipebombs
to shell casings filled with all kinds of powders. I punched the bullet and primer out of a 375 H&H magnum shell that I filched from Clark Gable's house.

I filled it with my own mix of rocket powder and put a Jet-X fuse through the primer hole. Then I put the original bullet back in the mouth of the casing. I attached it to a little car to make a rocket car.
I lit it on the asphalt but it wouldn't move because it was too rough. While it was burning, I picked it up to move it to cement. Naturally, it exploded. My sister thought it was hysterical. My brother caught the 375 Silvertip in the shoulder and didn't think it was one bit funny.

One more time,,,,I had to explain why my siblings were bleeding and that it wasn' truly all my fault.
It wasn't me who put the pitchfork through his foot but I did get him to sit on acetyelene bombs.
Dan