One more I just remembered. When I was about 8 or so, my aunt had taken my grandmother, (her mother) down to SC to see some of her relatives. Don't know why I was with them and my mom wasn't, but anyway, back in the day, if you were from out of state, and got a speeding ticket, you had to pay it on the spot, they didn't have fancy computers to make sure you'd pay. So as we're coming back to NC from the visit, a SC State Trooper pulled my aunt over. As he came to the driver's-side window and asked for her license, my grandmother, who was in the passenger seat, leaned down to where she could see him, and said to the officer, (and I quote) Her: "I'm glad you pulled us over, Officer" Him: "Is that so?" Her: "Yes, I've been telling her to slow down for over an hour!" Him: (to my aunt) "Ma'am, would you please step out of the car and come with me?" My aunt, obviously fuming, got out and went back to the cruiser. From the story my aunt later told me, it went something like this: Him: That your mom in the car? Her: Yep Him: Is she always like that? Her: Yep Him: How much further do you have to go? Her: About 90 miles or so. Him: (with pause for effect) I'm not going to give you a ticket, you're going to endure enough already. But I will give you a warning ticket so you can show her the evidence. My aunt never did tell my grandmother it wasn't a real ticket, and I laughed my ass off for the entire remainder of that trip home. My grandmother lived to be about 89, and she was just as funny as that till the day she passed. That woman didn't have a brake pedal between her brain and her mouth, but I loved her anyway!
No, but considering I was about 8, and was born in (gulp) 1958, that would have made it about 1966, and it would be years before we saw the Commodore 64 Computer. Years ago, if you got busted for speeding, and didn't have any money on you, the cops would just follow you to the bank so you could pay the fine, otherwise they had no real way of tracking you down and getting their money.
He said stupid, not awesome. My brother and I got into all kinds of trouble. One I always think of that could have ended badly was flipping our go-cart in the ditch. Flipped it back upright, got it back home, realized the air cleaner cover was dented in. Removed air cleaner cover, hammered flat, reinstalled. Parents never knew until we told them like 15 years later :up:
Holy shit, we were rotten kids. Man the list would be so much shorter about what we didn't do. Blowing shit up with acetylene or amonium nitrate and diesel or black powder, locking neighbor kids in the grain dyer and shooting the hell out of them with roman candles, taking cars for road trips while the parental units were at work, antics at a local girl scout camp, not sure we knew of any season on animals if we were hungry, brush fires, run in with cops, mid night runs tothe local car salvage yard, sheeze, steeling court records,....the list could go on and on... All the boys were home for a holiday one year and we were drinking and telling stories about the shit we used to do in front of mom and dad. Mom was like "Oh my god, Oh my GOD!, Oh my god..." I thought she was going to pass out.
All the boys were home for a holiday one year and we were drinking and telling stories about the shit we used to do in front of mom and dad. Mom was like "Oh my god, Oh my GOD!, Oh my god..." I thought she was going to pass out. You guys keep reminding me of the crazy shit I did. Ok, last one, and this time I mean it. When I was in high school and had a car, even on weekends I had an 11 p.m. curfew. No excuses, you had to be home in the driveway at 11. Not 11:03. 11. Otherwise the car keys went on hiatus for a while. Well, my parents had one of those white 'princess phones' on my mom's side of the bed on the nightstand. Every once in a while some friend or girlfriend would call after 10 p.m. and before I could get to a phone my mom would pick it up from her room. I'd usually pick it up just an instant after her and say, "it's ok mom, I've got it" and she'd drowsily reply, "ok, night honey" and hang up. I'd get a stern look from my dad the next morning because the house rule was no calls after 10. But it was what it was, I guess. Well, fast-forward a few weeks and I'm hanging out in town with my ne'er-do-well friends and looked at my watch and realized, "holy shit, it's 10 till 11, I'll never make it home in time!" At that exact moment, I had an epiphany. I went to a pay phone, (remember this was 1975 or so, no cell phones) and called my home number. My mom answered it and I immediately said, "It's ok mom, I've got it" and mom sleepily replied "ok, night honey" and I stayed out till almost 1 a.m. Never did get caught and didn't fess-up till I was in my 30's. Pissed my two younger brothers off too, that I didn't share that sneaky protocol with them. Eff them, let them figure it out for themselves.
When I was 15, I would sneak out of my house around 1am, ride my bike down a 4 lane highway, around some back roads and to my girlfriend's house. The last time I did this turned out to be a not so great night. First, we're in her bed, while my bicycle was parked in the bushes separating the neighbors yard. Without the need to describe what we're doing, let's say we were busy when we both heard her door knob shake. It was locked. I jumped into her closet and slid the accordion style doors shut while she threw on her nightie and unlocked the door. Her dad asks why is the door lock and she replied it must've been an accident. Keep it unlocked, he says. She closes the door and I'm so scared, that I sit in the closet, bare naked, for an hour. When I finally get the guts to come out, I throw my clothes on, get out of her window, crushing a small little bush on the outside. I run to my bike, hop on and put my walkman cassette player on and away I go. I pass the Scotty's hardware store about 2 blocks down (my house is approximately 10 miles away) when a cop decides to see what I'm doing. I get the spotlight on me and he tells me to sit in the back of his car while he examines my bike. (Haro Sport for you freestylers out there). I describe every little detail of the bike to him as he is looking at it, just to make sure he realizes I didn't steal it. He asks me what I'm doing out and I reply that my parents were out of town and I was bored. He wants my phone number. At this time in my life, I had my own phone number for my room because I was a computer dork and my parents didn't want me tying up the business/house line (we owned a motel) with my computer. So I gave the guy my phone number. He calls and gets my answering machine (always had my ringer off at night). He asks what the hell that is. I reply, it's an answering machine. I told you my parents were out of town. He's pretty miffed now. He asks for a neighbor's phone number and I knew they would cover me so I gave it to him. He stands there for what felt like eternity then decided to let me go. I don't wanna see you out here again. I had no problem with that. I biked home and never snuck out again...but, the GF did sneak over a couple of times after that. The last time she snuck over, she spun her car into a ditch on the way home and had to walk to her house (she was about a mile from it) and get her dad. Told him she couldn't sleep and went for a drive. Needless to say, her parents HATED me. Hell, we still talk and her mom STILL hates me. But they never caught us, rofl.
Just rememberd this, went streaking when that was all the rage. At a big combined Boy Scout / Girl Scout jamboree. Pretty big group, probably 12-15 of us went streaking thru the girls end of the campground. Didn't get busted for it either.
Having witnessed first-hand how Joe is with his bikes, his equipment etc. Who wants to bet that when he was utilizing his potato-artillery, there was a notebook next to him with this stuff in it? http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trajectory_of_a_projectile
The area we camped my whole childhood was filled with moo-cows for grazing and shit. Well my dad got me some of them rubber blunt tips for arrows and I would go around the woods when we were camping and shoot the cows with the blunted arrows. funniest shit ever, until you dont really pay attention to your surroundings and you and your dog find yourself practically trampled by angry cows. My buddys birthday was in january and we all stayed at his house that weekend doing bb gun wars, hunting squirrels, and a bunch of other shit. one of the only rules his mom gave us was to stay off the ice on the little lake down the road. well of course, fuck that shit. so there we were having a blast on the not so thick ice when I fell through. I thought I was going to die. I was completely under and stuck. when I finally got out, the only thing we could think of was to get me dry before we had to go back to his house. So I sat on the front of his quad and he hauled ass around the trails to dry me off. I got sick as fuck. OH and when I got my drivers license we discovered that knocking trashcans over with my VW bug was awesome. So, we were doing that one night. having a hell of a time knocked all the cans down on this one road, but it was a dead end. So I turned around and hauled ass back the way we came. We were met by a very angry redneck in a big ass jeep with KC lights and all that. He chased me through this neighborhood and some how cornered me. I was sure we were caught. He got out and as he was walking up to us I threw that fucker in gear and sped off. only to find another dead end area about 1/2 mile up the road. so I pulled into a vacant house, kinda down this long driveway (hidden pretty good). We sat there for like 2 hours while this dude drove around and passed us a few times. I was reading the newspaper and they have the "police beat" and yup, we were in there!
Used to stand in the upper part of a friends barn and throw 12ga shells at the gravel lot below. Ahh good times...
