ChiefsPlanet Your best Story - Page 14

**Iowanian** · 03-20-2015, 10:01 AM

Tell us your best story. Your best day, the wildest thing you've seen, an event in your life.

I'm looking for the story that defines your life, the one you'd tell your grandkids around a campfire, the one you and your old friends re-tell half a box of beer into a night.

Tell us about the time you saw your dad kill a bear with his case knife, the day you won the lottery, the turd that was born with your child, the day your grandpa took you fishing.....good, bad, ugly. Your best story.

The only rule, it has to be true to the best of your memory. Go.

**SAUTO** · 03-26-2015, 04:21 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Frosty

Me too. I can't think of much worth the effort of typing it out.

This thraed has had me going over stories in my head since it started. Couldn't type any out for one reason or another lol. But it's been nice to reminisce

Frosty · 03-26-2015, 04:32 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by JASONSAUTO

This thraed has had me going over stories in my head since it started. Couldn't type any out for one reason or another lol. But it's been nice to reminisce

I know what you mean. I had my old stories going through my head, too. The only problem was they put me to sleep.

ROYC75 · 03-26-2015, 05:51 PM

As a Police Officer I ran into several situations, this one here is long but may be entertaining if you were not, uh, well, me.

In the summer of 1983, I was the Chief of Police in LaCygne,Ks and being new in town for just a month it takes time to get to know people. The County Sheriff advised me of the local hoodlums and a old fart, a guy named Gene Trinkle. You see Gene has been the town gorilla for years, bad moods and alcohol do not mix well inside of Old Mean Gene. Gene was stronger than a country ox in his prime years of life, anytime the police was called it took a minimum of 3 to 4 officers to take Gene to jail. He was that bad during his prime, everybody had stories to tell about Gene.

So here I am, 25 years old, 6'4", 225lbs solid, worked out steady and athletic. I'm thinking here, what the hell can a man 60 years old do to a young man of 25 in great shape? That I should be afraid of a 60 yr old man ?

So I'm at the house fixing supper one evening on my night off, I have a young 21 yr old kid over talking to him about becoming a reserve officer on my days off. I have my girlfriend over and I get this call around 6:00 pm that old mean Gene was in the local tavern causing another disturbance.

The Co.Sheriff, my GF and this young kid I was thinking of training all said, wait until backup gets there before I go in. Each of them all advising me of who he was, it's Gene Trinkle! So I picked up the phone, called the tavern, spoke to the owner,she advised me he has broken a few chairs and tables. I asked her if I could speak to Gene, she asked him to talk to me. He said F**k No, I'm talking to no f**king pig. Then I here the sound of broken glass, I can here him laughing and he was telling me he will not let the customers leave the tavern. Then he yells out, come and get me piggy wiggy, you sawed off low life bastard and then I heard more glass breaking. So I'm in blue jeans, nice shirt, no time to change, grabbed my gun belt, shield and off we go.

Despite the plea of my future wife and others, I get in the car and called in on duty, explaining the latest details while in route to the scene. The sheriff told me he was about 20 minutes away as well as another deputy and that they were going to call out 2 more off duty deputies. I'm thinking to myself, Good Grief, this guy is 60 F**king Years Old ! Anyways, here I am with this young guy, I asked him if he was scared, he said yes. I told him to stay back away and watch since he wasn't commissioned yet, assist only if I tell him too. You could tell he was scared to death as we approached the tavern.

I pulled into the lot and checked out of the car, I could hear sirens on the radio from the other officers talking on the radio about how far they were away. Each one pleading to me to wait, talk him outside or just wait till they get there. I'm thinking shit again, who is this F**king animal anyways, I have yet to lay eyes upon him or ever speak to him. So I hear more glass breaking as well as other items being broken or thrown inside, OK, I'm going in ! First mistake I make was , it had a gravel parking lot with concrete curbs secured to the ground and I parked on the closest curb to the tavern door, which was way to close to the door to start with. The tavern has a wooden screen door and a cheap hollow door that you would use inside your house like a bathroom or bedroom door, not as a secured door to a tavern. So I go in, immediately I have to turn to the right and go down this 5, maybe 6' long hallway entrance. I see Gene ( standing in the middle of the floor with maybe 8 - 10 people behind the bar ) approximately 20 to 25 feet from me. I walked into the lobby and turn to my left, allowing more space to move around, not to be cornered and told Gene that it's time to step outside, that he was under arrest for destruction of property as well as disorderly conduct.

He looked at me and started to laugh and said, where is your f**king army. The Second mistake I make is telling him, I don't need no army, we can do this the easy way or the hard way, that it was his choice. He laughed, cussing at me like a sailor and the next thing I know he let's out this bellering sound of a moose, charging at me like a raging bull.

Damn I having visions of myself as a bull fighter with a raging human? To be clear here, you could tell he was drunk on his ass for he was having trouble with his speech and standing straight. Any and all of his movement was impaired, so I'm thinking this is a piece of cake, I got this!

OK, any and all movement, this was my Third Mistake I made, I assumed,
as he charged toward me there was a wall about 4 feet behind me so I just moved at the last second just like a bull fighter and watched him plow into the wall, head first. You see I was cocky, confident in myself and a smart ass , toying with this drunk bastard. Turns out the wall was hollow so the paneling and 2 x 4's didn't slow him down to much. By the way Gene stood 6'8", about 300 - 320 lbs and all it did was just pissed him off even more. So I'm backing up to the far wall,as I do all the people inside run out the front door as Gene runs towards me again, this time it's 40 feet to the freaking wall and as I'm backing up, I'm hitting tables and chairs he has not destroyed yet. So I take a chair that is by me and push it across the tiled floor towards him. OK so I'm thinking this is going to be fun to watch this idiot go down. Uh,that was my Fourth mistake, This 60 year old man jumped over it while running forward, landed up right, took one step and did a perfect forward roll, right into me. I'm f**king stunned, stunned I tell ya after having been rolled over by a 60 year old human bowling ball. I get up quickly and he grabs a leg, holding me, hand to hand combat, I drill him with a left handed round house. It was like hitting a brick wall, damn, next thing I know we go crashing against some of the chairs and tables in the place that hasn't been destroyed yet, Shit, this f**king hurt like hell man, screw that fake TV shit you see, this is f**king real.

So by now here we are, more hand to hand, I'm quicker yet I knew by now he was stronger. My days of calf roping, hay fields did nothing to prepare myself for this bull elephant. I have never been whipped before in my life ( didn't go looking for fights either so I can't say I was a bad ass ) but I'm beginning to think this 60 year old drunk bastard was going to clean my clock if I didn't keep moving. He picks up a chair, throws it at me, I duck from it and then here he comes, charging my ass again, 10 feet away. Again, I step away and boom, he hits an outer wall this time that is solid, but doesn't go down!

I'm bout ready to draw my gun at this point but instead he is dazed a little. Yes an opening, my chance to cuff him, I grab a hold of his right arm and gave it a good twist, right into a hammer lock with my other arm around his neck. I'm putting everything I have in that hammerlock while this bastard is trying to hit me anyway he can in the head, my body, anywhere but I have the advantage here behind him. Thankfully he was drunk enough that his shots were missing as I'm telling him to drop to his knees and give up. I finally have him, this is going to work! Yeah right!

That was mistake number five as this raging bull took off again running towards the other far wall, 45 - 50 feet away, with yours truely riding his bareback, all the while keeping that arm in a hammerlock, hanging on for dear life. Enter Mistake Number Six not letting go before we took that express way to hell into the wall, this bastard turned sideways so that I took some of the hit.

( WTF was I thinking here, heat of the moment incidents do not always produce correct decisions ) OK, By now I am really pissed so the anger in me is taking over yet some how I still had a death hold on that hammer lock. Sure enough, I drove that damn thing up to his f**king back to his neck trying to break it. He let out another one of those moose calls and headed for the door, yeah the door that some dumb ass closed on their way out of the tavern as we were dancing around inside. So here we go through both of those weak ass doors, a combined 500 lbs of raging anger heading towards the patrol car. Oh yeah, did I mention about the dumb ass that parked the car too close to the door back on Mistake # 1. So here we are as we lose our balance going through both doors, we are going down like the Hindenburg, I rammed my left shoulder into the front bumper. OMG !

Yes, by now I am in severe excruciating pain, yet some miraculous f**king way, I still have that arm in a hammer lock. This 60 yr old bastard that just did a dam good rendition of David Banner and The Incredible Hulk has this boy worn out. But wait a second, what's this, he's not moving? Well at least hardly moving, he had hit his head on the bumper of the patrol car. The kid, yeah, remember the kid who wanted to be a reserve police officer, who stayed outside the whole damn time ? Yeah that one, he finally lent a hand. So by now I really want to break this f**kers arm, legs, anything to decapitate this bastard. Jut like 2 heavyweight fighters, both down trying to regain little or find enough strength to finish the other off, I had gotten around to the point I had a knee in the middle of his back holding that hammerlock in place with my weight. So while he was somewhat unconscious, I was able to pull the other arm around while the kid put the cuffs on.

By now I can here the sirens coming, damn the back up is freaking here. Here I am with gravel in my arms, legs, a left shoulder down to my asshole, sitting on top of this bastard as they pull into the parking lot. They all seem to be amazed of the situation, in disbelief that old Mean Gene was cuffed on the ground. They took over while I had to get up and find a place to rest, I was spent, I had nothing left.

So I take this animal to jail, he manned up, serves his jail time, fines, damages at the tavern just as he has every other of the many time before in his life. But this one was the time that Old Mean Gene realized he was finally too old to do this anymore. I met Gene about 2 months after the tavern brawl and he was as nice as you could find in a guy. Calm, peaceful, laid back, very friendly. So we sat and talked for a few minutes.

Gene told me growing up as a kid that he didn't have many friends. This angered him and he had trouble with it because people feared him for his size and anger. So to Gene as he got older, his excitement was to get drunk and fight some poor bastard that didn't know him that tried to take him on. Well everybody stopped fighting him so he turned to the police for fun and games. Really? This is a f**king game for him because it always took several guys to take him in? Are you kidding me ? So when Gene drank, he got drunk and all of the old feelings came back haunt him for the lack of having friends as a child. His temperament due to the alcohol bringing back old feelings was the leading issue why he would fight the police. He told me he never wanted to hurt nobody and that he always held back when fighting the police for fun. He told me that he was getting too old to do this anymore and that he always told himself that if there was ever a guy bad enough to take him in by himself, it was time to give it up. He said he was sorry and that it would never happen again. I told him, Gene, in all fairness, I was ready to give up and walk away when we hit that car, I was in so much pain at the time, I wanted no more. I told him I hope I have the strength of a f**king bull dozier at age 60 like he does. Again, he said he was sorry, it will never happen again. I told he was right, it wouldn't, next time I'm going to shoot you in the f**king knee and tell the judge I feared for my life!

He laughed his ass off and we never had a confrontation again for the next 2 years I was there. I had heard later that that one night led him to seek professional help for his issues and he has walked a fine line since. I'm sure he is probably dead by now and haven't from anybody for the last 20 years. Now,here I am 32 years later paying for an injury in my back from that night of hell.

Moral of this story, Never be cocky and judge a book by it's age. Alcohol and mentally challenged people with mood swings have unbelievable reerun strength.

I might have won the battle but I got my ass kicked like it's never been before in my life, it has left lasting results.

arrowheadnation · 03-26-2015, 06:14 PM

In high school I was part of a close knit group of BIG TIME KU fans, myself and 3 others. One was a grade ahead of us. At graduation, he chose to follow his girlfriend to K-state because she was "the one." So like idiots, a year later the three of us followed him to K-state. We got a house just west of the stadium. Fast forward a little, my sophomore year I was in an Econ400 midterm with roughly 80 or so other students. During the test, my phone which was in one of the pockets of my book bag, begins to ring and of course my ring tone is the KU fight song. It seemed like it took me an eternity to fish through all of the pockets of my bag to find it. Of course, as I bring it out of the bag, the sound is no longer muffled and "I'm a Jayhawk" is blaring so everyone can hear it. I start getting haughty sighs and scoffs of derision. The teacher is eyeballing me with the biggest WTF look you've ever seen...(we're in a test remember...AKA COMPLETE SILENCE). I have the power button held down and the damn thing still isn't going off, so to end my embarrassment, I rip the battery from the back of the phone to stop the music and throw the two pieces back into my bag. By this point I was so flustered, it took me a while to get back to test taking mode. I was one of the last 2 or 3 people to leave the room. Oh and btw....I haven't seen my older buddy's "the one" in over 8 years.

**Buehler445** · 03-26-2015, 07:30 PM

I'll take my shot at one.

One summer when I was in high school I was checking the irrigation with my sister's first husband. He knocked her up and was a fairly worthless human, so of course all he could get was a job for my dad. So here we are in this pickup, me with my rubber boots on, because I'm the one that had to go check the water. He's driving us down this trail road when we pass a prairie dog.

If there is one thing I ****ing hate, it's rodents. Especially cocksucking hole digging bastards. You see, we farm no till. So some bastard hole-rat decides to homestead in my farm, it isn't as easy as just plowing the field. So I look over at him, and say we should stop and kill it. Now he was an Okie, and what does he do? Shuts the pickup off. Not back up and try to get a little closer to it, just shuts her down.

I look at him and say, "YOU COULD HAVE BACKED UP ASSHOLE," and bail out of the pickup. The race is now on. So here's the picture, I am probably 30 yards behind this prairie dog and sprinting in my rubber boots. Rubber ****ing boots. Now, in high school, I could run. I wasn't all world or anything, but I could move. You remember that I said I hate rodents? I also hate losing races (I ran track). I had to look like the most reeruned human in the history of mankind.

I fully acknowledge that if he had been close to a town, I was done, but this must have been a scout looking for a place to expand the town. He was booking it straight down the trail road. Straight line? Advantage Buehler445. It takes me 150 or 200 yards, but I catch up to the little bastard and stomp on his ass. I am ****ing tired. I just sprinted in high gear for 200 yards in rubber boots. When I'm standing on this little bitch, he whips around and starts chewing on my foot. Guess who doesn't care because he's wearing rubber boots

.

After a while I'm catching my breath with this little bastard chewing on my boot my brother in law comes jogging up...and I'm not shitting you....puffing on his inhaler! After he catches his breath and we laugh about the whole thing, we stomp the thing to death.

tl;dr I ran down a prairie dog in floppy ass rubber rubber boots with a 30 yard deficit on the bastard.

**Baby Lee** · 03-26-2015, 07:56 PM

But what was your footwear like?

**Buehler445** · 03-26-2015, 07:59 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Baby Lee

But what was your footwear like?

Because I refuse to be patronized....

I wish I could still run like that.

Holladay · 03-27-2015, 07:02 AM

thank goodness you weren't wearing flip-flops, your ankle would have been gone...nor out running a mongoose.

**Nzoner** · 03-28-2015, 12:15 PM

One of mine is in the CP Hall Of Classics called So This Officer Takes My Drink and Flask Today.

The first of the story is really not all that great,it's what happened after I posted my mini-rant on a public message board that made it a classic oh shit story.

**Iowanian** · 03-31-2015, 03:11 PM

I work in a pretty entertaining office for a lot of reasons, and one of the benefits is you just never know what is going to happen.

This winter on the first brutally cold day, a phone rings. On the other end is a local land lord/friend who has just found something in one of his houses that causes him pause. I will say that if a long time landlord tells you to come and see something, you just go.
I know a guy who found 3 200lb pigs in an upstairs bedroom of a pretty decent house once.....so we knew this was worthy. 4 coworkers load up and drive to the location.

Upon entering, we quickly learn that this is one of those the guy lives here, is now in jail and off the map without notice situations. On the floor of the main room is an obvious "jack shack" matress with piles of spank bank videos and magazines in addition to the gallon size jug of lube and barrel of terrible towels.......but this isn't why we are called. People are filthy animals and that wasn't a-typical in landlord worlds.

Then we are introduced to the head scratcher. Keep in mind this house is abandoned unexpectedly, all items are there, but the heat wasn't turned on.

Further into the room we see 4 aquariums/cages. Inside one is a dead parrot/bird of some kind. Another contains a dead python of some kind, the third contains what appears to be a dead tarantula, and the 4th....empty.

We're trying to figure out what was missing from the 4th cage when someone touches the spider the size of a mans hand and it moves a leg. It's alive.

The spider box ends up in our office with a warming light and some water drizzled on it after a quick google search for "how to save a giant spider" or something. It comes to life angry like Popeye with a can of spinach. Someone driving near a pet shop asks a clerk what to feed it, so he brings home a few crickets and information.....they'll eat live mice.

As we stand around discussing the need to see a spider kill a mouse we see it, a mouse is in front of the glass on the front door. It is fate, an offering from the Gods. It is in the parking lot jumping through the same 2 wheel wells of a truck, lands on the sticky trap placed there, but it's too cold. That night, someone makes a trap with a bucket, string, beer can and some cheese and catches a country mouse.

Anxiety is great as we wait all day for everyone to return from their tasks for the battle. With great anticipation, I drop the barn mouse into the cage. It begins to explore, enters the tunnel of the spiders home and they both react, jumping away the mouse climbs atop a roost. With much prodding and forced interactions, there is only a brief, minor skirmish with no victor. The next day is friday and I fully expected to find a thanksgiving fat spider, but nothing has happened. Nothing happens all day. Boring.

Monday morning we roll in, only to find that over the weekend, there has been a savage murder in the cage and a creature is stuffing it's belly with fresh meat. I know what you're thinking...but you're wrong. The country mouse is a gangster like the fat kid in the videos from Baghdad during the war...Ralph S Mouse killed a tarantula twice it's size and was eating it's fill, looking satisfied and defiant. He strutted over to the former lair where the wood chips are freshly fluffed and laid in for a nap.

After 2 days of gorging himself on a spider, the gangster mouse was found dead.

The moral of the story is, if you're going to feed a spider a mouse, make it a sissy white city mouse.

The end.

**Iowanian** · 04-15-2015, 08:27 PM

There is just no way this thread is burned itself out.

Entertain me. Make me laugh. Make someone cry.

**Baby Lee** · 04-15-2015, 08:47 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Iowanian

There is just no way this thread is burned itself out.

Entertain me. Make me laugh. Make someone cry.

Mommy government loves us and will take care of us so long as she's in charge.

**DaneMcCloud** · 04-15-2015, 11:18 PM

Too many "Foot in mouth" stories to count.

I just realized that I had a music industry legend in my studio, today.

The man has worked with the Stones, Queen, Eurythmics, David Bowie, Paul McCartney along with far too many artists of today to count, and here I am talking about my contributions to the world of music.

ROYC75 · 04-27-2015, 09:42 PM

Come on people, many of you have not given us your best story in life.

JD10367 · 04-28-2015, 07:18 AM

Mine are driving-related near disasters.

1.) Driving back from Florida in the late 80s in a Ford Taurus with two other guys. Didn't realize there had been a giant snowstorm from Georgia to Virginia (this was in the days before the Internet). Got into Georgia on I-95 (which is a two lane road), flying up the fast lane, we pass a sign that says "Bridge Ices Before Road". Next thing you know, we're on the bridge and the car immediately turns sideways and starts sliding down the bridge perpendicular with us pointing at the second lane. At the end of the bridge is an accident in the fast lane with people stupidly standing at the back end of the cars. In front of me is a car to the left (moving to the left) and a car to the right (moving to the left). The people at the end of the bridge look up, do Buckwheat eyes, and jump for safety; I hit the gas, fishtail into the empty space between the two cars, and straighten out just in time to clear the accident. My friend in the car laughs hysterically for 10 minutes, finally gasping out, "That's the closest I've ever come to death."

2.) Fast-forward a year or two, driving up I-95 from Boston to Lowell MA to college in the snow (a daily one-hour commute each way). The highway is clear but, unbeknownst to me, up the road in the fast lane is one of those spots where everywhere decided to move over at the same point in their travels so the fast lane turns back into snow. I hit it, immediately spin in a circle, and am then sliding backwards in the second lane. Directly out my window, moving in the proper direction, is a guy in a van; I remember the two round headlights and the guy staring over his steering wheel in shock. I thought, "This is very bad," and hit the brake and cut the wheel, spinning across the third lane to stall out in the slow lane in the proper direction, where it promptly turned into a Steven King movie as a semi was barrelling towards my back end, blaring his truck horn while I tried to start my car. I got the car started and floored it into the breakdown lane just as he roared by. I was so pumped that I drove the rest of the way to school shouting, "Yeah!" in the car and banging the steering wheel. I got to school, walked right to the registrar's office, and withdrew. The following autumn I enrolled in a college in downtown Boston.

03-20-2015, 10:01 AM
Iowanian Supporter Join Date: Aug 2000 Location: Utopia Casino cash: $4778454	Your best Story Tell us your best story. Your best day, the wildest thing you've seen, an event in your life. I'm looking for the story that defines your life, the one you'd tell your grandkids around a campfire, the one you and your old friends re-tell half a box of beer into a night. Tell us about the time you saw your dad kill a bear with his case knife, the day you won the lottery, the turd that was born with your child, the day your grandpa took you fishing.....good, bad, ugly. Your best story. The only rule, it has to be true to the best of your memory. Go.
Posts: 61,525

03-26-2015, 05:51 PM	#198
ROYC75 Time For Your Wake Up Call !!! Join Date: Oct 2000 Location: Barn Yard Casino cash: $5699400	As a Police Officer I ran into several situations, this one here is long but may be entertaining if you were not, uh, well, me. In the summer of 1983, I was the Chief of Police in LaCygne,Ks and being new in town for just a month it takes time to get to know people. The County Sheriff advised me of the local hoodlums and a old fart, a guy named Gene Trinkle. You see Gene has been the town gorilla for years, bad moods and alcohol do not mix well inside of Old Mean Gene. Gene was stronger than a country ox in his prime years of life, anytime the police was called it took a minimum of 3 to 4 officers to take Gene to jail. He was that bad during his prime, everybody had stories to tell about Gene. So here I am, 25 years old, 6'4", 225lbs solid, worked out steady and athletic. I'm thinking here, what the hell can a man 60 years old do to a young man of 25 in great shape? That I should be afraid of a 60 yr old man ? So I'm at the house fixing supper one evening on my night off, I have a young 21 yr old kid over talking to him about becoming a reserve officer on my days off. I have my girlfriend over and I get this call around 6:00 pm that old mean Gene was in the local tavern causing another disturbance. The Co.Sheriff, my GF and this young kid I was thinking of training all said, wait until backup gets there before I go in. Each of them all advising me of who he was, it's Gene Trinkle! So I picked up the phone, called the tavern, spoke to the owner,she advised me he has broken a few chairs and tables. I asked her if I could speak to Gene, she asked him to talk to me. He said Fk No, I'm talking to no fking pig. Then I here the sound of broken glass, I can here him laughing and he was telling me he will not let the customers leave the tavern. Then he yells out, come and get me piggy wiggy, you sawed off low life bastard and then I heard more glass breaking. So I'm in blue jeans, nice shirt, no time to change, grabbed my gun belt, shield and off we go. Despite the plea of my future wife and others, I get in the car and called in on duty, explaining the latest details while in route to the scene. The sheriff told me he was about 20 minutes away as well as another deputy and that they were going to call out 2 more off duty deputies. I'm thinking to myself, Good Grief, this guy is 60 Fking Years Old ! Anyways, here I am with this young guy, I asked him if he was scared, he said yes. I told him to stay back away and watch since he wasn't commissioned yet, assist only if I tell him too. You could tell he was scared to death as we approached the tavern. I pulled into the lot and checked out of the car, I could hear sirens on the radio from the other officers talking on the radio about how far they were away. Each one pleading to me to wait, talk him outside or just wait till they get there. I'm thinking shit again, who is this Fking animal anyways, I have yet to lay eyes upon him or ever speak to him. So I hear more glass breaking as well as other items being broken or thrown inside, OK, I'm going in ! First mistake I make was , it had a gravel parking lot with concrete curbs secured to the ground and I parked on the closest curb to the tavern door, which was way to close to the door to start with. The tavern has a wooden screen door and a cheap hollow door that you would use inside your house like a bathroom or bedroom door, not as a secured door to a tavern. So I go in, immediately I have to turn to the right and go down this 5, maybe 6' long hallway entrance. I see Gene ( standing in the middle of the floor with maybe 8 - 10 people behind the bar ) approximately 20 to 25 feet from me. I walked into the lobby and turn to my left, allowing more space to move around, not to be cornered and told Gene that it's time to step outside, that he was under arrest for destruction of property as well as disorderly conduct. He looked at me and started to laugh and said, where is your fking army. The Second mistake I make is telling him, I don't need no army, we can do this the easy way or the hard way, that it was his choice. He laughed, cussing at me like a sailor and the next thing I know he let's out this bellering sound of a moose, charging at me like a raging bull. Damn I having visions of myself as a bull fighter with a raging human? To be clear here, you could tell he was drunk on his ass for he was having trouble with his speech and standing straight. Any and all of his movement was impaired, so I'm thinking this is a piece of cake, I got this! OK, any and all movement, this was my Third Mistake I made, I assumed, as he charged toward me there was a wall about 4 feet behind me so I just moved at the last second just like a bull fighter and watched him plow into the wall, head first. You see I was cocky, confident in myself and a smart ass , toying with this drunk bastard. Turns out the wall was hollow so the paneling and 2 x 4's didn't slow him down to much. By the way Gene stood 6'8", about 300 - 320 lbs and all it did was just pissed him off even more. So I'm backing up to the far wall,as I do all the people inside run out the front door as Gene runs towards me again, this time it's 40 feet to the freaking wall and as I'm backing up, I'm hitting tables and chairs he has not destroyed yet. So I take a chair that is by me and push it across the tiled floor towards him. OK so I'm thinking this is going to be fun to watch this idiot go down. Uh,that was my Fourth mistake, This 60 year old man jumped over it while running forward, landed up right, took one step and did a perfect forward roll, right into me. I'm fking stunned, stunned I tell ya after having been rolled over by a 60 year old human bowling ball. I get up quickly and he grabs a leg, holding me, hand to hand combat, I drill him with a left handed round house. It was like hitting a brick wall, damn, next thing I know we go crashing against some of the chairs and tables in the place that hasn't been destroyed yet, Shit, this fking hurt like hell man, screw that fake TV shit you see, this is fking real. So by now here we are, more hand to hand, I'm quicker yet I knew by now he was stronger. My days of calf roping, hay fields did nothing to prepare myself for this bull elephant. I have never been whipped before in my life ( didn't go looking for fights either so I can't say I was a bad ass ) but I'm beginning to think this 60 year old drunk bastard was going to clean my clock if I didn't keep moving. He picks up a chair, throws it at me, I duck from it and then here he comes, charging my ass again, 10 feet away. Again, I step away and boom, he hits an outer wall this time that is solid, but doesn't go down! I'm bout ready to draw my gun at this point but instead he is dazed a little. Yes an opening, my chance to cuff him, I grab a hold of his right arm and gave it a good twist, right into a hammer lock with my other arm around his neck. I'm putting everything I have in that hammerlock while this bastard is trying to hit me anyway he can in the head, my body, anywhere but I have the advantage here behind him. Thankfully he was drunk enough that his shots were missing as I'm telling him to drop to his knees and give up. I finally have him, this is going to work! Yeah right! That was mistake number five as this raging bull took off again running towards the other far wall, 45 - 50 feet away, with yours truely riding his bareback, all the while keeping that arm in a hammerlock, hanging on for dear life. Enter Mistake Number Six not letting go before we took that express way to hell into the wall, this bastard turned sideways so that I took some of the hit. ( WTF was I thinking here, heat of the moment incidents do not always produce correct decisions ) OK, By now I am really pissed so the anger in me is taking over yet some how I still had a death hold on that hammer lock. Sure enough, I drove that damn thing up to his fking back to his neck trying to break it. He let out another one of those moose calls and headed for the door, yeah the door that some dumb ass closed on their way out of the tavern as we were dancing around inside. So here we go through both of those weak ass doors, a combined 500 lbs of raging anger heading towards the patrol car. Oh yeah, did I mention about the dumb ass that parked the car too close to the door back on Mistake # 1. So here we are as we lose our balance going through both doors, we are going down like the Hindenburg, I rammed my left shoulder into the front bumper. OMG ! Yes, by now I am in severe excruciating pain, yet some miraculous fking way, I still have that arm in a hammer lock. This 60 yr old bastard that just did a dam good rendition of David Banner and The Incredible Hulk has this boy worn out. But wait a second, what's this, he's not moving? Well at least hardly moving, he had hit his head on the bumper of the patrol car. The kid, yeah, remember the kid who wanted to be a reserve police officer, who stayed outside the whole damn time ? Yeah that one, he finally lent a hand. So by now I really want to break this fkers arm, legs, anything to decapitate this bastard. Jut like 2 heavyweight fighters, both down trying to regain little or find enough strength to finish the other off, I had gotten around to the point I had a knee in the middle of his back holding that hammerlock in place with my weight. So while he was somewhat unconscious, I was able to pull the other arm around while the kid put the cuffs on. By now I can here the sirens coming, damn the back up is freaking here. Here I am with gravel in my arms, legs, a left shoulder down to my asshole, sitting on top of this bastard as they pull into the parking lot. They all seem to be amazed of the situation, in disbelief that old Mean Gene was cuffed on the ground. They took over while I had to get up and find a place to rest, I was spent, I had nothing left. So I take this animal to jail, he manned up, serves his jail time, fines, damages at the tavern just as he has every other of the many time before in his life. But this one was the time that Old Mean Gene realized he was finally too old to do this anymore. I met Gene about 2 months after the tavern brawl and he was as nice as you could find in a guy. Calm, peaceful, laid back, very friendly. So we sat and talked for a few minutes. Gene told me growing up as a kid that he didn't have many friends. This angered him and he had trouble with it because people feared him for his size and anger. So to Gene as he got older, his excitement was to get drunk and fight some poor bastard that didn't know him that tried to take him on. Well everybody stopped fighting him so he turned to the police for fun and games. Really? This is a fking game for him because it always took several guys to take him in? Are you kidding me ? So when Gene drank, he got drunk and all of the old feelings came back haunt him for the lack of having friends as a child. His temperament due to the alcohol bringing back old feelings was the leading issue why he would fight the police. He told me he never wanted to hurt nobody and that he always held back when fighting the police for fun. He told me that he was getting too old to do this anymore and that he always told himself that if there was ever a guy bad enough to take him in by himself, it was time to give it up. He said he was sorry and that it would never happen again. I told him, Gene, in all fairness, I was ready to give up and walk away when we hit that car, I was in so much pain at the time, I wanted no more. I told him I hope I have the strength of a fking bull dozier at age 60 like he does. Again, he said he was sorry, it will never happen again. I told he was right, it wouldn't, next time I'm going to shoot you in the fking knee and tell the judge I feared for my life! He laughed his ass off and we never had a confrontation again for the next 2 years I was there. I had heard later that that one night led him to seek professional help for his issues and he has walked a fine line since. I'm sure he is probably dead by now and haven't from anybody for the last 20 years. Now,here I am 32 years later paying for an injury in my back from that night of hell. Moral of this story, Never be cocky and judge a book by it's age. Alcohol and mentally challenged people with mood swings have unbelievable reerun strength. I might have won the battle but I got my ass kicked like it's never been before in my life, it has left lasting results. __________________ Our society is run by insane people for insane objectives. I think we're being run by maniacs for maniacal ends and I think I'm liable to be put away as insane for expressing that. That's what's insane about it. John Lennon Last edited by ROYC75; 03-26-2015 at 09:39 PM..
Posts: 36,982

03-26-2015, 06:14 PM	#199
arrowheadnation MONTANA #19 Join Date: Mar 2005 Casino cash: $6267357	In high school I was part of a close knit group of BIG TIME KU fans, myself and 3 others. One was a grade ahead of us. At graduation, he chose to follow his girlfriend to K-state because she was "the one." So like idiots, a year later the three of us followed him to K-state. We got a house just west of the stadium. Fast forward a little, my sophomore year I was in an Econ400 midterm with roughly 80 or so other students. During the test, my phone which was in one of the pockets of my book bag, begins to ring and of course my ring tone is the KU fight song. It seemed like it took me an eternity to fish through all of the pockets of my bag to find it. Of course, as I bring it out of the bag, the sound is no longer muffled and "I'm a Jayhawk" is blaring so everyone can hear it. I start getting haughty sighs and scoffs of derision. The teacher is eyeballing me with the biggest WTF look you've ever seen...(we're in a test remember...AKA COMPLETE SILENCE). I have the power button held down and the damn thing still isn't going off, so to end my embarrassment, I rip the battery from the back of the phone to stop the music and throw the two pieces back into my bag. By this point I was so flustered, it took me a while to get back to test taking mode. I was one of the last 2 or 3 people to leave the room. Oh and btw....I haven't seen my older buddy's "the one" in over 8 years. __________________ Things I need to happen in order to die happy.... KU wins a National Championship....Check! The Royals win a World Series....Check! The Chiefs win a Super Bowl....FINALLY!!!
Posts: 4,213

03-26-2015, 07:30 PM	#200
Buehler445 Supporter Join Date: Apr 2007 Location: Scott City KS Casino cash: $2334734	I'll take my shot at one. One summer when I was in high school I was checking the irrigation with my sister's first husband. He knocked her up and was a fairly worthless human, so of course all he could get was a job for my dad. So here we are in this pickup, me with my rubber boots on, because I'm the one that had to go check the water. He's driving us down this trail road when we pass a prairie dog. If there is one thing I **ing hate, it's rodents. Especially cocksucking hole digging bastards. You see, we farm no till. So some bastard hole-rat decides to homestead in my farm, it isn't as easy as just plowing the field. So I look over at him, and say we should stop and kill it. Now he was an Okie, and what does he do? Shuts the pickup off. Not back up and try to get a little closer to it, just shuts her down. I look at him and say, "YOU COULD HAVE BACKED UP ASSHOLE," and bail out of the pickup. The race is now on. So here's the picture, I am probably 30 yards behind this prairie dog and sprinting in my rubber boots. Rubber ing boots. Now, in high school, I could run. I wasn't all world or anything, but I could move. You remember that I said I hate rodents? I also hate losing races (I ran track). I had to look like the most reeruned human in the history of mankind. I fully acknowledge that if he had been close to a town, I was done, but this must have been a scout looking for a place to expand the town. He was booking it straight down the trail road. Straight line? Advantage Buehler445. It takes me 150 or 200 yards, but I catch up to the little bastard and stomp on his ass. I am **ing tired. I just sprinted in high gear for 200 yards in rubber boots. When I'm standing on this little bitch, he whips around and starts chewing on my foot. Guess who doesn't care because he's wearing rubber boots . After a while I'm catching my breath with this little bastard chewing on my boot my brother in law comes jogging up...and I'm not shitting you....puffing on his inhaler! After he catches his breath and we laugh about the whole thing, we stomp the thing to death. tl;dr I ran down a prairie dog in floppy ass rubber rubber boots with a 30 yard deficit on the bastard.
Posts: 56,771

03-26-2015, 07:56 PM	#201
Baby Lee Supporter Join Date: Aug 2000 Casino cash: $6838598	But what was your footwear like? __________________ We need the kind of courage that can withstand the subtle corruption of the cynics - E.W.
Posts: 95,642

03-27-2015, 07:02 AM	#203
Holladay Veteran Join Date: Sep 2000 Casino cash: $2639480	thank goodness you weren't wearing flip-flops, your ankle would have been gone...nor out running a mongoose.
Posts: 3,581

03-28-2015, 12:15 PM	#204
Nzoner a haw haw haw Join Date: Jan 2004 Location: MIZZOU Casino cash: $26365802	One of mine is in the CP Hall Of Classics called So This Officer Takes My Drink and Flask Today. The first of the story is really not all that great,it's what happened after I posted my mini-rant on a public message board that made it a classic oh shit story. __________________ *Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new.*
Posts: 27,111

03-31-2015, 03:11 PM	#205
Iowanian Supporter Join Date: Aug 2000 Location: Utopia Casino cash: $4778454	I work in a pretty entertaining office for a lot of reasons, and one of the benefits is you just never know what is going to happen. This winter on the first brutally cold day, a phone rings. On the other end is a local land lord/friend who has just found something in one of his houses that causes him pause. I will say that if a long time landlord tells you to come and see something, you just go. I know a guy who found 3 200lb pigs in an upstairs bedroom of a pretty decent house once.....so we knew this was worthy. 4 coworkers load up and drive to the location. Upon entering, we quickly learn that this is one of those the guy lives here, is now in jail and off the map without notice situations. On the floor of the main room is an obvious "jack shack" matress with piles of spank bank videos and magazines in addition to the gallon size jug of lube and barrel of terrible towels.......but this isn't why we are called. People are filthy animals and that wasn't a-typical in landlord worlds. Then we are introduced to the head scratcher. Keep in mind this house is abandoned unexpectedly, all items are there, but the heat wasn't turned on. Further into the room we see 4 aquariums/cages. Inside one is a dead parrot/bird of some kind. Another contains a dead python of some kind, the third contains what appears to be a dead tarantula, and the 4th....empty. We're trying to figure out what was missing from the 4th cage when someone touches the spider the size of a mans hand and it moves a leg. It's alive. The spider box ends up in our office with a warming light and some water drizzled on it after a quick google search for "how to save a giant spider" or something. It comes to life angry like Popeye with a can of spinach. Someone driving near a pet shop asks a clerk what to feed it, so he brings home a few crickets and information.....they'll eat live mice. As we stand around discussing the need to see a spider kill a mouse we see it, a mouse is in front of the glass on the front door. It is fate, an offering from the Gods. It is in the parking lot jumping through the same 2 wheel wells of a truck, lands on the sticky trap placed there, but it's too cold. That night, someone makes a trap with a bucket, string, beer can and some cheese and catches a country mouse. Anxiety is great as we wait all day for everyone to return from their tasks for the battle. With great anticipation, I drop the barn mouse into the cage. It begins to explore, enters the tunnel of the spiders home and they both react, jumping away the mouse climbs atop a roost. With much prodding and forced interactions, there is only a brief, minor skirmish with no victor. The next day is friday and I fully expected to find a thanksgiving fat spider, but nothing has happened. Nothing happens all day. Boring. Monday morning we roll in, only to find that over the weekend, there has been a savage murder in the cage and a creature is stuffing it's belly with fresh meat. I know what you're thinking...but you're wrong. The country mouse is a gangster like the fat kid in the videos from Baghdad during the war...Ralph S Mouse killed a tarantula twice it's size and was eating it's fill, looking satisfied and defiant. He strutted over to the former lair where the wood chips are freshly fluffed and laid in for a nap. After 2 days of gorging himself on a spider, the gangster mouse was found dead. The moral of the story is, if you're going to feed a spider a mouse, make it a sissy white city mouse. The end.
Posts: 61,525

04-15-2015, 08:27 PM	#206
Iowanian Supporter Join Date: Aug 2000 Location: Utopia Casino cash: $4778454	There is just no way this thread is burned itself out. Entertain me. Make me laugh. Make someone cry.
Posts: 61,525

04-15-2015, 11:18 PM	#208
DaneMcCloud Supporter Join Date: Sep 2000 Location: Hollywood, CA Casino cash: $10053648	Too many "Foot in mouth" stories to count. I just realized that I had a music industry legend in my studio, today. The man has worked with the Stones, Queen, Eurythmics, David Bowie, Paul McCartney along with far too many artists of today to count, and here I am talking about my contributions to the world of music.
Posts: 88,960

04-27-2015, 09:42 PM	#209
ROYC75 Time For Your Wake Up Call !!! Join Date: Oct 2000 Location: Barn Yard Casino cash: $5699400	Come on people, many of you have not given us your best story in life. __________________ Our society is run by insane people for insane objectives. I think we're being run by maniacs for maniacal ends and I think I'm liable to be put away as insane for expressing that. That's what's insane about it. John Lennon
Posts: 36,982

04-28-2015, 07:18 AM	#210
JD10367 Cheaterlover* Join Date: May 2009 Location: RI Casino cash: $10010716	Mine are driving-related near disasters. 1.) Driving back from Florida in the late 80s in a Ford Taurus with two other guys. Didn't realize there had been a giant snowstorm from Georgia to Virginia (this was in the days before the Internet). Got into Georgia on I-95 (which is a two lane road), flying up the fast lane, we pass a sign that says "Bridge Ices Before Road". Next thing you know, we're on the bridge and the car immediately turns sideways and starts sliding down the bridge perpendicular with us pointing at the second lane. At the end of the bridge is an accident in the fast lane with people stupidly standing at the back end of the cars. In front of me is a car to the left (moving to the left) and a car to the right (moving to the left). The people at the end of the bridge look up, do Buckwheat eyes, and jump for safety; I hit the gas, fishtail into the empty space between the two cars, and straighten out just in time to clear the accident. My friend in the car laughs hysterically for 10 minutes, finally gasping out, "That's the closest I've ever come to death." 2.) Fast-forward a year or two, driving up I-95 from Boston to Lowell MA to college in the snow (a daily one-hour commute each way). The highway is clear but, unbeknownst to me, up the road in the fast lane is one of those spots where everywhere decided to move over at the same point in their travels so the fast lane turns back into snow. I hit it, immediately spin in a circle, and am then sliding backwards in the second lane. Directly out my window, moving in the proper direction, is a guy in a van; I remember the two round headlights and the guy staring over his steering wheel in shock. I thought, "This is very bad," and hit the brake and cut the wheel, spinning across the third lane to stall out in the slow lane in the proper direction, where it promptly turned into a Steven King movie as a semi was barrelling towards my back end, blaring his truck horn while I tried to start my car. I got the car started and floored it into the breakdown lane just as he roared by. I was so pumped that I drove the rest of the way to school shouting, "Yeah!" in the car and banging the steering wheel. I got to school, walked right to the registrar's office, and withdrew. The following autumn I enrolled in a college in downtown Boston.
Posts: 12,916