I'm inclined to agree.
Once, when I was thirteen or so, I had an unfortunate incident at a burger joint. You see, me and a few friends frequented the place often, and while we were by all accounts really hyperactive (being thirteen and all), the owners toleratedus because wwe came often and spent lots of our parens' money. So, this one time, we were sitting around a table, chowing burgers and shooting the shit, when I felt a piece of gristle catch in my throat. Immediately, the lizard part of my brain informed me that I had best get it out now or become a casualty of evolution. So i started hacking it up like a hairball right there at the table. I was too busy to notice that everyone was staring at me while this was going on, and when I finally got it (and the not insubstantial mouthful of burger I had been chewing) out of my throat, there was one fewer person at the table. "Where's Brandon?" I asked. "Uh, I think he's throwing up in the bathroom." "Why?" "Dude look at what you just barfed up. Were you having a seisure or something?" "What? C'mon.It's not that gross. Wuss." "Whatever. I'm going to check if Brandon's OK."
A minute passes. Brandon walks out of the bathroom.
"Dude, are you OK? We could hear you puking your guts up." "Shut up, I'm fine. You're the one who started choking in the first place." "Hey, where's Ashley?" "Um, he's puking. I think he saw me and got sick." "Wait, so my choking all over this table made you two barf all over the bathroom? Yes! I win!" "You asshole. They'll never let us in here again!" "I don't care! I just made the both of you puke. Ha!"
At this point, Ashley walks out of the bathroom looking woozy.
"Man you look like shit." "Shut up. I couldn't help it. ... Fuck. Guys, we need to get out of here. I missed the toilet." "Woohoo!" "Shut up. This is your fault." "Damn right it is. I win!" "That's it. Let's drag him out to the parking lot and kick his ass before thay call the cops."
Somehow, we managed to get out of there withouot being accosted by the owners, and I managed to talk my way out of an ass-beating. We didn't go back to that place for two months.
Youthful Indescretions
-
DVD Burner
- Posts: 11031
- Joined: Fri Dec 12, 2003 3:09 am
- Burning Since: 1986
- Camp Name: White Trash Camp
- Contact:
Let us know you're ok and when you get back. Just heard about what happened at the concert.RingO'Fire wrote: getting ready to go to the Bonnaroo music festival this coming weekend (http://www.bonnaroo.com).
https://www.facebook.com/NeXTCODER
-
RingO'Fire
- Posts: 978
- Joined: Mon Mar 01, 2004 3:00 am
- Location: Chattanooga
Hey, I'm back y'all!
Bonnaroo was pretty awesome, but also pretty miserable at times (maybe a little like BM?). While I was there I saw: Govt Mule, Dave Matthews (with Trey Anastasio), Robert Randolph & the Family Band (they totally rocked the house!), Primus (rocked the house!), Calexico, Ani Defranco, etc. etc. I missed The Dead (it was raining and I didn't want to get soaked), plus, I already have tickets to see them in Atlanta in August (a week before Bman!). I also missed David Byrne and Trey's band - they were both Sunday night and after three and a half days of sweltering in a giant mud hole, I was ready to go home. Fortunately, the Festival is only about an hour's drive from my house!
Thursday and Friday, the first two days, were the best for me. Although it was hot in the daytime (upper 80's w/ approx. 90% relative humidity), the "scene" was still relatively chill. I met a bunch of new friends too. Saturday, I met up with a friend of Kelliy's (Kelliy here on eplaya, from Panama City Beach (PCB)) named Andrea and her friend Tracy from Oregon. We hung out and ate fungus together at the Govt Mule show. Later, the sky turned dark purple on the horizon and I started freaking out a little as it got closer and closer. As I looked around me, I thought, "Man, there are way more people out here than there is shleter to cover them all. I definately want to be one of the 'dry people.'" It was all I could do to control myself and not run for cover while Tracy was shopping for tapestries.
I told the girls I did not want to get soaking wet, but Andrea said she didn't care if she got wet or not. I definately did care, but I also wanted to keep hanging out with the two cool women. I found some empty plastic bags and wrapped up my digital camera, cell phone, and wallet and put them back in my fanny pack. I so wanted to prepare for the rapidly approaching storm by seeking shelter; I was so antsy that I wanted to crawl out of my skin, but I just kept breathing deep and thinking how, no matter what, everything was going to be cool.
Just as the first few raindrops starting falling, I guess the girls realized that they didn't want to get soaked either and we made a mad 50-yard dash for the nearest tent. Turned out...it was a bar tent! Score! We just waited out the storm there for the next hour and a half or so and smoked out all our neighbors standing around us. It was actually a really pleasant experience, tripping and puffing in the dry tent during the massive dumping thunderstorm, watching all the wet miserable/indifferent/ecstatic people scampering about in the rain. Later that night, it started raining again. I just hung out at our camp with all my buddies, drinking under our giant (dry!) shelter.
I made our shelter for about $200. I wanted to give my Bman shelter a trial run. I zip-tied four 16' x 20' silver tarps together and supported them with nine 1&1/4 inch PVC pipes (total footprint = about 40' x 50'). I made three rows of three support poles each, all tied together in a row. I drilled and set two eyebolts near the top of each pole, with the two bolts about two inches apart vertically, oriented parallel, but "pointing" in opposite directions. I guyed out all eight outside poles (but not the middle pole) to rebar stakes and covered the ends of the stakes with water bottles. I secured the tarp to the stakes with bungees.
In the daytime, we'd roll up the sides (that otherwise flopped down on the ground) for air flow and then clamp them with spring clamps. We put all of our tents under the tarp and still had room for a giant "living room." We were so comfortable compared to our sweltering and/or wet neighbors. The shelter held up really well to the wind and rain too. I'm still going to have to modify it for the higher winds at BM though with more support poles, better drainage, more rebar stakes, and better rigging. Next year, I think I'll just build a dome for BM.
After all the rain, most of the footpaths turned into ooey gooey swishey mud. In places, it was ankle deep. There were all of these (sorry, but this is just the way I feel) stoopid hippie dumbasses running around barefoot on the gravel roads and in the mud and even in the porta-potties! (gross!). You could tell too, that these were mostly people who normally didn't run around barefooted. There were also literally thousands of sunburned hippie dumbasses running around too.
There was pretty much every psychoactive substance on sale - in the broad open daylight - that you can imagine. It was a total buyers' market for all that stuff. Some of my campmates just got totally obliterated the whole time we were there too. It's a wonder that they made it to any of the concerts at all. Unfortunately, two people died, probably from ODs (sad, but not really all that surprising - considering all of the completely wasted people who were there).
Memorable quotes:
My buddy Nappy Tim: "Man, I'm way too fucked up to even be seen in public!"
Cary from Asheville (upon waking up): "Dude, my mouth tastes like fifty different kinds of ass!"
I have to admit though, for me, the best part of the whole thing was meeting, hanging out, and partying with all of the cool people that I met while I was there. Overall, I had a great time.
It's good to be back here on the eplaya with all y'all though!
Bonnaroo was pretty awesome, but also pretty miserable at times (maybe a little like BM?). While I was there I saw: Govt Mule, Dave Matthews (with Trey Anastasio), Robert Randolph & the Family Band (they totally rocked the house!), Primus (rocked the house!), Calexico, Ani Defranco, etc. etc. I missed The Dead (it was raining and I didn't want to get soaked), plus, I already have tickets to see them in Atlanta in August (a week before Bman!). I also missed David Byrne and Trey's band - they were both Sunday night and after three and a half days of sweltering in a giant mud hole, I was ready to go home. Fortunately, the Festival is only about an hour's drive from my house!
Thursday and Friday, the first two days, were the best for me. Although it was hot in the daytime (upper 80's w/ approx. 90% relative humidity), the "scene" was still relatively chill. I met a bunch of new friends too. Saturday, I met up with a friend of Kelliy's (Kelliy here on eplaya, from Panama City Beach (PCB)) named Andrea and her friend Tracy from Oregon. We hung out and ate fungus together at the Govt Mule show. Later, the sky turned dark purple on the horizon and I started freaking out a little as it got closer and closer. As I looked around me, I thought, "Man, there are way more people out here than there is shleter to cover them all. I definately want to be one of the 'dry people.'" It was all I could do to control myself and not run for cover while Tracy was shopping for tapestries.
I told the girls I did not want to get soaking wet, but Andrea said she didn't care if she got wet or not. I definately did care, but I also wanted to keep hanging out with the two cool women. I found some empty plastic bags and wrapped up my digital camera, cell phone, and wallet and put them back in my fanny pack. I so wanted to prepare for the rapidly approaching storm by seeking shelter; I was so antsy that I wanted to crawl out of my skin, but I just kept breathing deep and thinking how, no matter what, everything was going to be cool.
Just as the first few raindrops starting falling, I guess the girls realized that they didn't want to get soaked either and we made a mad 50-yard dash for the nearest tent. Turned out...it was a bar tent! Score! We just waited out the storm there for the next hour and a half or so and smoked out all our neighbors standing around us. It was actually a really pleasant experience, tripping and puffing in the dry tent during the massive dumping thunderstorm, watching all the wet miserable/indifferent/ecstatic people scampering about in the rain. Later that night, it started raining again. I just hung out at our camp with all my buddies, drinking under our giant (dry!) shelter.
I made our shelter for about $200. I wanted to give my Bman shelter a trial run. I zip-tied four 16' x 20' silver tarps together and supported them with nine 1&1/4 inch PVC pipes (total footprint = about 40' x 50'). I made three rows of three support poles each, all tied together in a row. I drilled and set two eyebolts near the top of each pole, with the two bolts about two inches apart vertically, oriented parallel, but "pointing" in opposite directions. I guyed out all eight outside poles (but not the middle pole) to rebar stakes and covered the ends of the stakes with water bottles. I secured the tarp to the stakes with bungees.
In the daytime, we'd roll up the sides (that otherwise flopped down on the ground) for air flow and then clamp them with spring clamps. We put all of our tents under the tarp and still had room for a giant "living room." We were so comfortable compared to our sweltering and/or wet neighbors. The shelter held up really well to the wind and rain too. I'm still going to have to modify it for the higher winds at BM though with more support poles, better drainage, more rebar stakes, and better rigging. Next year, I think I'll just build a dome for BM.
After all the rain, most of the footpaths turned into ooey gooey swishey mud. In places, it was ankle deep. There were all of these (sorry, but this is just the way I feel) stoopid hippie dumbasses running around barefoot on the gravel roads and in the mud and even in the porta-potties! (gross!). You could tell too, that these were mostly people who normally didn't run around barefooted. There were also literally thousands of sunburned hippie dumbasses running around too.
There was pretty much every psychoactive substance on sale - in the broad open daylight - that you can imagine. It was a total buyers' market for all that stuff. Some of my campmates just got totally obliterated the whole time we were there too. It's a wonder that they made it to any of the concerts at all. Unfortunately, two people died, probably from ODs (sad, but not really all that surprising - considering all of the completely wasted people who were there).
Memorable quotes:
My buddy Nappy Tim: "Man, I'm way too fucked up to even be seen in public!"
Cary from Asheville (upon waking up): "Dude, my mouth tastes like fifty different kinds of ass!"
I have to admit though, for me, the best part of the whole thing was meeting, hanging out, and partying with all of the cool people that I met while I was there. Overall, I had a great time.
It's good to be back here on the eplaya with all y'all though!
...but it seemed like such a good idea at the time...
-
cowboyangel
- Posts: 6986
- Joined: Fri May 14, 2004 10:32 pm
-
Apollonaris Zeus
- Posts: 3716
- Joined: Sun Sep 14, 2003 11:17 am
Thread in Violation of TOS Agreement!
Due to the fact that the current administration is faltering in its job of monitoring for flagrant violations of the following "Terms of Service Agreement" paragraph E definitions-
upload, post, email, transmit or otherwise make available any Content that displays pornographic or sexually explicit material of any kind;
upload, post, email, transmit or otherwise make available any Content that provides material that exploits people under the age of 18 in a sexual or violent manner, or solicits personal information from anyone under 18;
Written word is a violation of the above clauses as any image!
I ask the admin to delete this thread if you are as sincere as you think!
A II Z
upload, post, email, transmit or otherwise make available any Content that displays pornographic or sexually explicit material of any kind;
upload, post, email, transmit or otherwise make available any Content that provides material that exploits people under the age of 18 in a sexual or violent manner, or solicits personal information from anyone under 18;
Written word is a violation of the above clauses as any image!
I ask the admin to delete this thread if you are as sincere as you think!
A II Z
-
RingO'Fire
- Posts: 978
- Joined: Mon Mar 01, 2004 3:00 am
- Location: Chattanooga
Re: Thread in Violation of TOS Agreement!
Dude, come on. Enough whining already. Please try to get over your hurt feelings and let's all just move on. You are definately a valued member of the eplaya community. The admins are just doing their jobs.Apollonaris Zeus wrote:Due to the fact that the current administration is faltering in its job of monitoring for flagrant violations of the following "Terms of Service Agreement" paragraph E definitions-
upload, post, email, transmit or otherwise make available any Content that displays pornographic or sexually explicit material of any kind;
upload, post, email, transmit or otherwise make available any Content that provides material that exploits people under the age of 18 in a sexual or violent manner, or solicits personal information from anyone under 18;
Written word is a violation of the above clauses as any image!
I ask the admin to delete this thread if you are as sincere as you think!
A II Z
Thanks in advance.
...but it seemed like such a good idea at the time...
-
Treehugr11
- Posts: 15
- Joined: Thu Apr 15, 2004 2:14 pm
- Location: Chattanooga, TN
Violence against whom? And I haven't heard anything sexual or violent towards anyone under 18...??? But...I was youthful, and had indescretions under 18...A couple were pretty dang funny...but I won't talk about them, it being against the rules and all, and I WAS under 18. Maybe I'll start a chapter on comedic sex...
Look for the trees first....Then put on the windshield wipers...and get a clean look....
-
Treehugr11
- Posts: 15
- Joined: Thu Apr 15, 2004 2:14 pm
- Location: Chattanooga, TN
Violence against whom? And I haven't heard anything sexual or violent towards anyone under 18...??? But...I was youthful, and had indescretions under 18...A couple were pretty dang funny...but I won't talk about them, it being against the rules and all, and I WAS under 18. Maybe I'll start a chapter on comedic sex...
Look for the trees first....Then put on the windshield wipers...and get a clean look....
-
ebaynelson
- Posts: 75
- Joined: Mon Jun 28, 2004 12:28 pm
- Location: Detroit Rock City
- Contact:
Back in the day, while out and about in public, we used to play this game where one person would whisper the word "penis," then another person would say it a little louder, then another and another, basically testing the bravado of each person in the group - guys and girls alike.
Well one day, we were all at the dollar theater watching Pulp Fiction for something like the third time. Somebody mumbled "penis" right in the middle of the movie, and it kept building until two of us were basically screaming "PENIS!!!" right there during the show. Within moments, we had all been kicked out.
Totally juvenile, I know...
Well one day, we were all at the dollar theater watching Pulp Fiction for something like the third time. Somebody mumbled "penis" right in the middle of the movie, and it kept building until two of us were basically screaming "PENIS!!!" right there during the show. Within moments, we had all been kicked out.
Totally juvenile, I know...
[color=darkred]~~~
The solutions all are simple... But they're simple only when you know already what they are.
Robert M. Pirsig
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance[/color]
The solutions all are simple... But they're simple only when you know already what they are.
Robert M. Pirsig
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance[/color]
-
samtzu
- Posts: 3403
- Joined: Thu Apr 01, 2004 5:56 pm
- Location: Portland,OR;Columbia,CA;Emigrant Wilderness
- Contact:
In most pre-industrial, "primative" societies, a human being goes through a ritual a puberty that accepts them into that society as 'adults'. They are then responsible for their own activities and decisions. In all industrial/post-industrial societies, no one is allowed to be responsible for their activities unless the rulers allow them to be or compel them to be. AZ is simply singing the party line. Within the context of Western Society, AZ is the voice of propriety.
Fuck that! I've got a dick that has seen use since it was twelve and if I told the stories about myself, I would be in danger of getting thrown in jail for promoting kiddie porn.
Now, how fucked up is that?
P.S. They're boring (to me), anyway...
Fuck that! I've got a dick that has seen use since it was twelve and if I told the stories about myself, I would be in danger of getting thrown in jail for promoting kiddie porn.
Now, how fucked up is that?
P.S. They're boring (to me), anyway...
The revolutionary does not grow up because he cannot grow, while the creative individual cannot grow up because he keeps growing ~~ Eric Hoffer
-
Treehugr11
- Posts: 15
- Joined: Thu Apr 15, 2004 2:14 pm
- Location: Chattanooga, TN
Posted: Thu Jul 08, 2004 4:34 am Post subject:
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"In most pre-industrial, "primative" societies, a human being goes through a ritual a puberty that accepts them into that society as 'adults'. They are then responsible for their own activities and decisions. In all industrial/post-industrial societies, no one is allowed to be responsible for their activities unless the rulers allow them to be or compel them to be. AZ is simply singing the party line. Within the context of Western Society, AZ is the voice of propriety.
Fuck that! I've got a dick that has seen use since it was twelve and if I told the stories about myself, I would be in danger of getting thrown in jail for promoting kiddie porn.
Now, how fucked up is that?
P.S. They're boring (to me), anyway..."
[LMFAO, I bet they aren't boring and funny as hell. And I bet A2Z would read them...Now, don't get me wrong here, I've got a bad back and have taken a hydro, and had a dirty martini, but this isn't exactly the Christian University Web Site is it??? I mean come on....Aren't we adults here? It is an Indescrestion thread? heh heh. Come on A II Z, haven't you got a story?? If not, I will personally pray for you myself....]
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"In most pre-industrial, "primative" societies, a human being goes through a ritual a puberty that accepts them into that society as 'adults'. They are then responsible for their own activities and decisions. In all industrial/post-industrial societies, no one is allowed to be responsible for their activities unless the rulers allow them to be or compel them to be. AZ is simply singing the party line. Within the context of Western Society, AZ is the voice of propriety.
Fuck that! I've got a dick that has seen use since it was twelve and if I told the stories about myself, I would be in danger of getting thrown in jail for promoting kiddie porn.
Now, how fucked up is that?
P.S. They're boring (to me), anyway..."
[LMFAO, I bet they aren't boring and funny as hell. And I bet A2Z would read them...Now, don't get me wrong here, I've got a bad back and have taken a hydro, and had a dirty martini, but this isn't exactly the Christian University Web Site is it??? I mean come on....Aren't we adults here? It is an Indescrestion thread? heh heh. Come on A II Z, haven't you got a story?? If not, I will personally pray for you myself....]
Look for the trees first....Then put on the windshield wipers...and get a clean look....
-
RingO'Fire
- Posts: 978
- Joined: Mon Mar 01, 2004 3:00 am
- Location: Chattanooga
Yes, I promised I'd finish it...and I will get around to it. Each "episode" takes about 3-4 hours to compose. When I got to a good stopping point (David and my brother flying back from Sand Iego) this past spring, I was just totally, completely burnt out (Basically, from being over-committed, i.e., working at my intense job, taking calculus-based physics, taking care of my elderly dad, making tie-dyes, and writing stories). Since I got back from San Francisco back in May, I've been making a conscious effort not to get back into the "completely stressed out" frame of mind again. Although, if I'd been working on the story episodes a little at a time, I could have finished the whole thing several times over by now.Lark wrote:Mini-bump...
I just re-read most of this thread - it's still my favorite. Will we ever hear the conclusion to Ring's kidnapping story? I'm not trying to put any pressure on, I'm just curious.
I appreciate your interest; it makes me more motivated to go ahead and start work on the story again. Here's a little story in the meantime to tide you over.
...but it seemed like such a good idea at the time...
-
RingO'Fire
- Posts: 978
- Joined: Mon Mar 01, 2004 3:00 am
- Location: Chattanooga
Roger Staubach
ROGER STAUBACH
1969-1979 Dallas Cowboys
1985 Pro Football Hall of Fame Inductee
[This is important for the following story]
Roger Staubach joined the Dallas Cowboys as a 27-year-old rookie in 1969 and didn't win the regular quarterbacking job from until his third season in 1971. But for the nine seasons he was in command of the potent Cowboys attack, the Dallas played in six NFC championship games, winning four of them, and also scored victories in Super Bowls VI and XII.
The 6-3, 200-pound Staubach wound up his career after the 1979 season with an 83.4 passing rating, the best mark by an NFL passer up to that time. His career chart shows 1,685 completions in 2,958 passing attempts, which were good for 22,700 yards and 153 touchdowns.
Making Staubach particularly dangerous was his ability to scramble out of trouble – his 410 career rushes netted him 2,264 yards for a 5.5-yard average and 20 touchdowns. He led the NFL in passing four times. He was also an All-NFC choice five times and selected to play in six Pro Bowls.
Staubach first starred as a quarterback at the U. S. Naval Academy, where he was a Heisman Trophy winner as a junior in 1963. Following his graduation, he spent a mandatory four years on active duty, including service in Vietnam, before he was able to turn his attention to pro football.
During his finest years with the Cowboys, Roger had the reputation for making the big play. He was the MVP of Super Bowl VI and provided the offensive spark in a defense dominated Super Bowl XII victory.
In 1972, he missed most of the season with a separated shoulder but he relieved Craig Morton in a divisional playoff against San Francisco and threw two touchdown passes in the last 90 seconds to defeat the 49ers, 30-28. With that performance, he won back his regular job and did not relinquish it again during his career.
1969-1979 Dallas Cowboys
1985 Pro Football Hall of Fame Inductee
[This is important for the following story]
Roger Staubach joined the Dallas Cowboys as a 27-year-old rookie in 1969 and didn't win the regular quarterbacking job from until his third season in 1971. But for the nine seasons he was in command of the potent Cowboys attack, the Dallas played in six NFC championship games, winning four of them, and also scored victories in Super Bowls VI and XII.
The 6-3, 200-pound Staubach wound up his career after the 1979 season with an 83.4 passing rating, the best mark by an NFL passer up to that time. His career chart shows 1,685 completions in 2,958 passing attempts, which were good for 22,700 yards and 153 touchdowns.
Making Staubach particularly dangerous was his ability to scramble out of trouble – his 410 career rushes netted him 2,264 yards for a 5.5-yard average and 20 touchdowns. He led the NFL in passing four times. He was also an All-NFC choice five times and selected to play in six Pro Bowls.
Staubach first starred as a quarterback at the U. S. Naval Academy, where he was a Heisman Trophy winner as a junior in 1963. Following his graduation, he spent a mandatory four years on active duty, including service in Vietnam, before he was able to turn his attention to pro football.
During his finest years with the Cowboys, Roger had the reputation for making the big play. He was the MVP of Super Bowl VI and provided the offensive spark in a defense dominated Super Bowl XII victory.
In 1972, he missed most of the season with a separated shoulder but he relieved Craig Morton in a divisional playoff against San Francisco and threw two touchdown passes in the last 90 seconds to defeat the 49ers, 30-28. With that performance, he won back his regular job and did not relinquish it again during his career.
...but it seemed like such a good idea at the time...
-
RingO'Fire
- Posts: 978
- Joined: Mon Mar 01, 2004 3:00 am
- Location: Chattanooga
Here’s another in my long line of “Lessons Learned” from childhood.
I was about 13 or so, in 9th grade at Signal Mountain Junior High (on beautiful Signal Mountain, Tennessee), and a defensive tackle for the Signal Mountain Eagles football team. We were a motley “Bad News Bears” kind of pathetic losing team that got our asses kicked by the opposing teams on a weekly basis. We only won one game that year.
Anyway, this was in the late ‘70’s. My mom, who generally knew my tastes in clothing, whether she liked the clothes or not, had bought me two pair of these really cool-ass underwear. One pair had kind of fluorescent tropical print while the other had red and white stripes with big blue stars. I know my underwear may seem passe today in the “third millenium”, but at the time, they were cool, funky and radical.
So, one afternoon after school, it was raining when our football team was supposed to practice. I guess the coaches didn’t want to get wet either, so they let us practice inside the basketball gym that day. They told us to dress out in our football pants and tennis shoes, without shoulder pads or helmets.
As it happened that day, I had on my red, white and blue underwear with the big blue stars on them. What I didn’t realize at the time was that you could see my underwear through the translucent polyester football pants.
There we were on the gym floor, practicing running plays while it rained outside. The head coach, Al Ball (I swear) called out the next play we were going to run and had us line up in formation. There I was, crouched down in my “three point” defensive lineman’s stance, waiting for the play to start. FYI, the “three point stance” consists of you bending over so that one hand is on the ground, and then kind of squatting down on your haunches so that you’re ready to spring forward in an instant. Your ass kind of sticks up in the air in the stance.
Coach Ball was walking back and forth behind our lines, inspecting our positions, formation and stances. Then, he stopped right behind me! A sense of dread crept over me. What happened next went something kind of like this:
Coach Ball [yelling out loud – in thick southern accent]:
“Damn Wild! What’s that on your ass?! Have you got stars on yer ass?! Damn! I believe you do! There are stars on your ass! Coach Love! [Herschel Love, the mean-ass assistant coach & shop teacher] Coach Love, get over here and look at this! Wild’s got stars on his ass! [Coach Love walks over, they both chuckle]. Ya know what, Wild? From now on, I’m gonna call you…..[pregnant pause, he’s thinking – then I see the light bulb light up].
"You know what Wild? From now on, I’m gonna call you…Roger Starbutt! Yes sir, that’s it! Roger Starbutt! That’s your new nickname!”
True to his word, that was the coache’s nickname for me for the rest of the football season. He never called me anything else after that. Naturally, my buddies all starting calling me “Starbutt” too. So, for the rest of the football season, I was “Roger Starbutt.”
Sometimes during afternoon practice, I’d hear Coach Ball yelling at the top of his voice from across the field,
“Starbutt! Gitcher head down!”
“Starbutt! Git over here!”
“Starbutt! Are you going to tackle him or give him a hug?!”
“Starbutt!…”
Lesson Learned? – Don’t wear your red, white and blue underwear with stars and stripes under your translucent football pants during the indoor junior high school football practice.
Epilogue: At the football banquet at the end of the season, I got the trophy for “Most Improved Player.”
I was about 13 or so, in 9th grade at Signal Mountain Junior High (on beautiful Signal Mountain, Tennessee), and a defensive tackle for the Signal Mountain Eagles football team. We were a motley “Bad News Bears” kind of pathetic losing team that got our asses kicked by the opposing teams on a weekly basis. We only won one game that year.
Anyway, this was in the late ‘70’s. My mom, who generally knew my tastes in clothing, whether she liked the clothes or not, had bought me two pair of these really cool-ass underwear. One pair had kind of fluorescent tropical print while the other had red and white stripes with big blue stars. I know my underwear may seem passe today in the “third millenium”, but at the time, they were cool, funky and radical.
So, one afternoon after school, it was raining when our football team was supposed to practice. I guess the coaches didn’t want to get wet either, so they let us practice inside the basketball gym that day. They told us to dress out in our football pants and tennis shoes, without shoulder pads or helmets.
As it happened that day, I had on my red, white and blue underwear with the big blue stars on them. What I didn’t realize at the time was that you could see my underwear through the translucent polyester football pants.
There we were on the gym floor, practicing running plays while it rained outside. The head coach, Al Ball (I swear) called out the next play we were going to run and had us line up in formation. There I was, crouched down in my “three point” defensive lineman’s stance, waiting for the play to start. FYI, the “three point stance” consists of you bending over so that one hand is on the ground, and then kind of squatting down on your haunches so that you’re ready to spring forward in an instant. Your ass kind of sticks up in the air in the stance.
Coach Ball was walking back and forth behind our lines, inspecting our positions, formation and stances. Then, he stopped right behind me! A sense of dread crept over me. What happened next went something kind of like this:
Coach Ball [yelling out loud – in thick southern accent]:
“Damn Wild! What’s that on your ass?! Have you got stars on yer ass?! Damn! I believe you do! There are stars on your ass! Coach Love! [Herschel Love, the mean-ass assistant coach & shop teacher] Coach Love, get over here and look at this! Wild’s got stars on his ass! [Coach Love walks over, they both chuckle]. Ya know what, Wild? From now on, I’m gonna call you…..[pregnant pause, he’s thinking – then I see the light bulb light up].
"You know what Wild? From now on, I’m gonna call you…Roger Starbutt! Yes sir, that’s it! Roger Starbutt! That’s your new nickname!”
True to his word, that was the coache’s nickname for me for the rest of the football season. He never called me anything else after that. Naturally, my buddies all starting calling me “Starbutt” too. So, for the rest of the football season, I was “Roger Starbutt.”
Sometimes during afternoon practice, I’d hear Coach Ball yelling at the top of his voice from across the field,
“Starbutt! Gitcher head down!”
“Starbutt! Git over here!”
“Starbutt! Are you going to tackle him or give him a hug?!”
“Starbutt!…”
Lesson Learned? – Don’t wear your red, white and blue underwear with stars and stripes under your translucent football pants during the indoor junior high school football practice.
Epilogue: At the football banquet at the end of the season, I got the trophy for “Most Improved Player.”
...but it seemed like such a good idea at the time...
The run-down indoor shopping center in Warren, Michigan doesn’t quite live up to its name: Universal Mall. I suppose it might be universal in that every town has at least one crappy indoor mall, but that’s about it. In high school, it was the one place nearby where you could buy Pixie Stix in bulk and catch a movie for the princely some of $1, meaning you could go out with friends on a Friday with a $5 bill and, theoretically, go home with money left over. When they raised the ticket price to $1.50 on weekends, we were pissed. But we still went.
Like most malls, the theater showed movies long after the stores closed down, so there were usually only a few dozen cars in the parking lot after a 10:00 show. One night our film let out close to 1:00 in the morning, so the lot was particularly deserted. Since we had arrived during peak shopping hours, we were way out in BFE. Even in a crowd, however, it wasn’t hard to spot my car, a 1972 Citroën DS21, similar to car seen here:
Dent every other panel, remove the hubcaps, and sprinkle with a healthy dose of rust and peeling paint (revealing a lovely shade of metallic green), and it would look just like mine did.
A light February snowfall had been gradually blanketing the area the entire time we were inside, so we emerged from the theater into a smooth, unmolested field of white punctuated only by a few lampposts and, in the middle of it all, my humble Citroën. I had to drive my friend Matt home, so we broke off from the rest of the group and trudged out to my car.
Waiting for the car to warm up, it was apparent that the lot was deserted, and was our playground for the taking. Good old-fashioned American cars can do donuts just about anywhere, but my front-wheel-drive oddity with about 90 horsepower could only spin its tires in the right conditions. These were the right conditions.
With a maniacal grin, I threw the car into reverse and floored it. Whipping the wheel to the left, we took off in a backwards circle, and a well-timed application of the brakes sent us into a nice three-sixty across the lot. Shifting into first, I sent snow spraying up past the side windows in a mostly futile attempt to fain forward traction. I had never had so much room to play with, so this was mostly a process of learning how to spin out. After a bit of practice, we could put some nice loopy tracks in the snow going either forward or in reverse.
The suspension of the Citroën DS allows the car to lean quite a bit in turns. When doing donuts, the car would lurch from one side to the other while the car changed orientation. This only added to the fun, of course; Matt and I just about knocked heads bouncing around the front seats.
After one particularly nice spin, however, we lurched to a halt, and suddenly the area around the car lit up like daylight. Oh shit. Our immediate reaction was to look for the patrol car, but we couldn’t see anything but empty lot outside all the windows. We thought maybe the mall security had switched on some extra lampposts, but we were between two that had been on the whole time.
Exchanging a look of panic, we decided we really had been fooling around for long enough anyway, so I put the car bar into first and we sheepishly turned toward the exit. The light around us, however, followed. Not having a sunroof, it took us a second to realize that we had been spotlighted by a helicopter. “Okay, we won’t do any more donuts!” I hollered to no one in particular as we made our way across the still-empty parking lot.
Fortunately, neither of us had anything to get us in trouble other than a potential moving violation, but this was hardly something I wanted to explain to my parents. We kept making our way toward the exit, chanting something along the lines of “Oh shit oh fuck oh shit,” wondering where the patrol car would appear from, yet hoping that whoever was in the copter just wanted to make sure we left the parking lot. The light followed us around every curve, however, as I carefully obeyed every yield sign and posted speed limit toward the main road. A stoplight kept us from escaping the lot immediately, and as we sat there, the spotlight stayed right above us, putting us on display for the passing traffic. We thought we were fucked, but the light turned green before I saw any cops, so I just made my left turn just like anyone else.
Now a Citroën is hardly a common car; I used to get looks from passing drivers constantly, and one time had someone trying to hold a conversation about it with me on the freeway at 70+ miles per hour. But I can only imagine what a sight we were that night, driving down a five-lane road in the middle of the night in a goofy white car, lit from above like some sort of scene from Close Encounters.
Both of us kept our eyes moving, looking for the flashing red and blue. It was only a matter of time, I figured. We made it a little more than a mile – it had been three or four minutes at this point – before we were shocked to see the spotlight turn off. I considered this a sign that the cops on the ground would be with us in a moment, so there wasn’t anything to do but keep driving.
But we never saw any more lights. After another quarter mile, we were in a residential area, so it seemed to make sense that we were more likely to get away if we made our way through the subdivisions. I half expected the ground around us to light up again, and then we’d be taken in for evading the police of something, but it didn’t happen. Considering how conspicuous my car was, however, we didn’t go back to the main road for a couple of miles. I got off scot free, but I couldn’t help thinking that there are some occasions when a plain, average car – something that could get lost in a crowd – might be preferable. But then what fun would that be?
-
robbidobbs
- Posts: 2825
- Joined: Fri Sep 05, 2003 1:07 pm
- Burning Since: 1999
- Camp Name: Pottie Central
- Location: LOS of the Pottie doors
-
theCryptofishist
- Posts: 40312
- Joined: Mon Feb 23, 2004 9:28 am
- Burning Since: 2017
- Location: In Exile
-
Rian Jackson
- Posts: 3903
- Joined: Fri Sep 19, 2003 4:30 pm
- Location: In Rob's Head
-
DVD Burner
- Posts: 11031
- Joined: Fri Dec 12, 2003 3:09 am
- Burning Since: 1986
- Camp Name: White Trash Camp
- Contact:
-
theCryptofishist
- Posts: 40312
- Joined: Mon Feb 23, 2004 9:28 am
- Burning Since: 2017
- Location: In Exile
-
gigglesnort
- Posts: 3099
- Joined: Mon Sep 13, 2004 2:46 pm
-
BlueBirdPoof
- Posts: 627
- Joined: Tue Sep 23, 2003 11:44 am
- Location: SF Bay Area
No place better to post this
Than in the Youthful Indescresions thread.
Wrote Ring of Fire to ask what was up. Here's his (slightly edited) reply:
I guess we can consider this a "Happy New Year" from a stray e-playan.
Wrote Ring of Fire to ask what was up. Here's his (slightly edited) reply:
So I would say that's good news all around for him. Sometimes when people stop posting I think they've been eaten by monsters. Not always true apparently.Ring of Fire wrote:Hey BlueCryptoBirdFishPoofist!
[I don't know if you already got this message once, but I thought I'd send it again, just in case. It seems to have gotten stuck in my "Outbox" a couple of weeks ago when I originally composed it and wasn't showing up as a "Sent Item." So, I thought I'd better send it again. Later, Steve]
Thanks! I'm flattered that you missed me. I missed you guys too.
The last couple of months were extremely stressful for me. Here what's been going on for me the past few months: sold a house; shopped for, located, and bought a new house; moved all of my and my dad's shit out of the old place (almost singlehandedly - it took a full week); helped my brother move into his new house; moved my 70 year old dad (who has Alzheimer's) into my brother's house; split up, got back together, and split up again with my girlfriend of four months (she got back w/ her ex about three weeks ago, but has started calling and sending me emails - she knows she fucked up - once you've had the best (me, naturally), it's hard to go back to second- or third-best). I was doing all this whilst simultaneously working at my pretty intense, stressful job as a project manager at an environmental consulting company (I'm the senior scientist on staff). [Just reading over the above list makes me go "whew!"].
I had gotten to the point where it seemed like I was under so much pressure that my head was in a vise. I was having trouble sleeping (which has never happened to me before in my entire life) and just generally felt stressed out and burned out most of the time. I felt like I had to slow my life down in as many areas as possible in order to be able to focus on the essentials. So, I quit doing tie dye as a part time business and decided had to take some time off from the eplaya as well.
Anyway, life is MUCH better now. I'm getting settled into my new place, which I absolutely love. My mom is in town from Florida this week too and is helping me get more organized. I just got a big fat Christmas bonus last week. I have a new Dell computer at home and a Comcast cable high-speed connection. Instead of waking up stressed out at 4:00 or 5:00 am, I'm back to groping for the snooze button at 7:00 am. I've gotten a couple of phone numbers from women who are "interested", although if Lori pulls her head out of her ass [soon!], I'll probably give her another chance.
So, altogether, things are going really well for me right now. The most stressful period of my entire life appears to be pretty much over. I'll definately start popping into the eplaya a bit more often.
Finally, I don't mind if you share the contents of this message with my other eplayan buddies. I miss you all as well.
Take care,
Steve
I guess we can consider this a "Happy New Year" from a stray e-playan.
Re: Breaking and Entering
Just stumbled onto this thread. Only on page 4 and laughing my ass off. You guys were really, really naughty boys. Reminds me of my brothers. They were always getting into mischief.RingO'Fire wrote:When breaking into your friend's house on spring break to watch his dad's collection of 8mm porno films, make sure that his parents won't be coming home in the middle of the day while you're inside their house.
My mom busted me watching her 8mm porno movies when I was 14 or 15. She was working the graveyard shift as a waitress. She wasn't suppose to be home for 4 hours! I snuck into her bedroom and flipped on the switch to the projector. Heck, I thought it was movies about our trip to Provincetown. Yowza! Boy, did I get an education full.
I didn't get punished for it, but I never found the projector and films again. (Dammit)-
RingO'Fire
- Posts: 978
- Joined: Mon Mar 01, 2004 3:00 am
- Location: Chattanooga