I had a friend that lived out in the country. I'd go out there on Saturday and we'd go out in the woods with a couple of Marlin Model 60 .22 rifles and waste the day just walking around and shooting at stuff.
One time we started shooting through coins for the heck of it.
For the record:
If you shoot a .22 at a penny, it'll zip through with ease.
If you shoot a .22 at a dime, it punches through with no problem.
If you shoot a .22 at a stack of 6 or 7 nickels at your feet (because you can't stack them horizontally), the .22 will make a small dent in the top 2 or 3 nickels before exploding into thousands of tiny little pieces of lead shrapnel that will pepper the fronts of your shins and thighs.
Oh geeze...I'm going to have to think about this. Give me a few.
In my old neighborhood, as a small kid, we had a creek in my friends back yard. The creek had been there a long time and eroded a huge cliff into a big hill....like a 20-25ft cliff. Well above the cliff was a long, steep hill and the neighbors had put a rope swing on it. We would run down the hill and grab the rope and swing out over the creek...a good 30-35ft off the ground. Luckily no one ever missed grabbing the rope or slipped when at full swing. The creek was small though...most of the air time was over a sandbar and the creek was only 2-3 feet deep in that area.
Was this in Georgia? I used to live in Suwanee when I was 10-13 and we had the same setup in our neighborhood.
You guys remember these things? I used to throw them as high as I could into the air, and stand under them until the last possible second, then attempt to dive out of the way.
When I was like 13 or 14 my friend and I used to sharpen 1/2" round bamboo sticks that my mom used in the garden to tie up the plants and throw them at each other. We would each stand in one spot and the game was you cant move your feet. You can duck, sway to the side, or even try and hit the other persons spear with yours. Well, one time I tried to hit his and the ******* thing stabbed me straight in the inside of my elbow and was sticking out of my arm. I never got stitches from it so I still have a bit of a scar, but its barely noticeable.
I had another group of friends around the same time that were into bb guns. We used to just ******* unload on each other in the yard. I've been shot in the arms and legs at least a couple dozen times point blank. I have no idea how non of us ever took a shot to the head/face. We probably knew enough not to go for the head, but anything below the neck was fair game. lol
You guys remember these things? I used to throw them as high as I could into the air, and stand under them until the last possible second, then attempt to dive out of the way.
When I was about 11 (making my brother about 7 or 8), I was tossing these over the roof of my parents house. I wanted to make sure it would clear, because getting it stuck on the roof would have meant punishment from my father. So, I had my brother stand in back, and let me know how well it was clearing the roof. When I came around back, my brother was pinned in place by the dart through his sneaker. It had passed between his toes, so no damage. A few inches farther, and it could have killed him.
We would each stand in one spot and the game was you cant move your feet.
This rule reminded me of another childhood game.
Take a bottle rocket and rip off the stick. Two people stand facing each about 3 feet apart. Light the bottle rocket and toss it on the ground between you. First one to move loses.
And on the subject of bottle rockets, did anyone else perfect the throwing technique? Light the fuse, wait till it burns just about even with the edge of the paper wrapper. Then toss the bottle rocket almost straight up. If you time it right, just as the bottle rocket is nosing over at the peak of its flight, it'll ignite and go shooting off horizonally.
Since fireworks came up: my friends and I used to play tag with roman candles...but the point of the game was to hit as many people possible with 4 roman candles (24 shots). The one who hit the most, won
oh ****... let me get back to you guys in an a few hours... must brainstorm my life.
btw, **** those yard darts, I use to shoot a broad head tipped arrow straight up into the air with my friends and tried to catch them with our hands... when they land a near 2" from our feet we felt badass, never really thought what would happened if it hit at the age of 12. We chose the broad head tip because it looked cool.
I have only broken one (major) bone in my years of snowboarding and bmx... my forearm broke into two places after slamming into a tree while trail riding on a few jumps, bone was exposed. Gloved my index finger while doing to same thing too, different time... thankfully I had gloves on or I would have been royally fucked and missing a finger.
At the age of 14 I jammed my cheap little bolt action .22 rifle with BBs in hopes of a shotgun effect... blew out the bolt straight back at my face, just barely missing.
Age of 16 I had am M-30 firecracker where the fuse didnt burn all the way, so I walked over to it, thinking "Hey, these are delay fuses, and there is a good half inch of fuse left... lets light it!"
If I threw it any later I probably wouldnt have a hand... instead it blew up a good 3 inches from my fingers, making them painfully throb and ache for the next 4 hours.
16 again, I thought I was JDM tough **** in my autoslush box, so I drove down a 30mph residential road downhill with water and dirt from construction at 80mph on cheap tires... came around a slight bend and started sliding, trying to regain control I ended up goind down the hill backwards, over a 6" median into the opposing lane, up onto a sidewalk and in a mound side of a house. Instead of flipping over like I think the car should have, I stayed completely flat and destroying the oem wheels and suspension. Stepped out of the car without a scratch, and no airbag went off, so I called my parents and said I was in a accident with no others, just me... so they were going to come pick me up, thinking it was a small deal. One douchebag officer came blaring down the neighborhood, jumped out of his car and cuffed me, threw me in his car like common trash... he had no reason to do that but just being a dickead, then had the nerve to ask for my license and registration with insurance card... WTF?!
So he walked me to my car, and searched through my ****, then the paramedics showed up, they were an awesome bunch, very cool to me, made me laugh through the whole situation. A second car showed up, the officer was much nicer, but still put me in the back of his car. Through all of this I was calm, until I saw my mom's truck pull up... I was so scared shitless of my mother that I asked if we could goto the station now. Officer took the cuffs off of me and handed me over to my parents... FML.
Fortunately, the chassis of the miata was still good, no body damage. My parents have such a vanity that they like to keep so my mom paid for the repairs out of pocket without letting the insurnace company know.
Man I was a ******* retard.
Ever since then I dont drive like a dick even with boost now.
My most resent event was when I set ablaze to my go-kart turbo project by accident.... everything is fixed up for another go at it.
When I was in junior high we used to reload our own shotgun shells. One afternoon when no one else was home I took some primers out to the driveway and started hitting them with a hammer against the concrete to make them explode. It sprays shrapnel everywhere.
At about that same age a neighbor kid tried to get me to huff gasoline with him. I wasn't interested. He did it until he passed out once. A few days after that he did it again. The next time I saw him after that he was just staring blankly into space with a slight grin and drool on his shirt. It was permanent. I'm glad I didn't join him.
I used to jump off the roof of the house using a Hefty bag as a parachute and do dive rolls in the grass.
I almost killed my grandfather by engaging the PTO on the Massey Ferguson while he was sharpening the blades on the bush hog. Why in the world he left the tractor running is beyond me. I was six or seven.
All this lawn darts talk reminds me of a great high school game my friends and I used to play.
We called it "Terror Ball." The idea was to find a really dark field like a park with no lights, or a school football field, and then play 3 flies up with a nerf screamer(football that whistles loudly when thrown properly) . Its great; you first hear an ominous whistling noise that gets quieter, then louder, then you see a slight shadow(depending on the lighting of your location), then you just may get hit in the face by the soft football with the hard plastic whistle on the side.
When it comes to near death idocy, I probably started it off by bombing hills (offroad) with those 80s scooters with the small bike wheels and handbrakes when i was 8-10 yrs old. Before that,(ages 4 and 5) I fell 15 to 20 feet off of two different play structures at my old school which do not exist anymore. Both falls resulted in a few bumps and scratches, but nothing serious.
Teenage years brought a lot of dumb car ****, probably culminating in a 140 mph run in my buddy's volvo 850 turbo wagon about 20 minutes after a rainstorm
there are more stories, but im drunk and i dont wanna think annymore
Not sure if you guys did this when you were younger, but my friends and I used to play this little game where we would put a friend's auto trans car into neutral without him noticing while we were at a stoplight or stop sign. You could usually only pull this off at night when they couldn't see what you were doing. The light would turn green, your friend would hit the gas, and all it would do is rev up. Hilarity ensues, I guess?
Well, one night I was driving me and a car full of people to... Somewhere. We were on a back road and I was cruising at about 65-70mph. My "friend" in the passenger seat decides he wants to play this game, but doesn't know **** about cars. So while we're hurling down a skinny back road, he pushes my gearshifter into Neutral, then REVERSE.
My poor cavalier made some VERY ugly sounds, and then it shut off. Tried to hit the brakes, but of course the power brakes went out when the car shut off. Without thinking, I turned the key to the off position, and that's when the steering wheel locked.
We came DAMN close to flying into the ditch. I didn't let him ride shotgun ever again after that.
When I was 16, driving the crappy FWD Beretta GT I drove back in HS, I thought I was hot ****. I'm driving 90 in a 55 on wet roads, and a cop pulls behind me. Naturally my first (wrong) instinct is to run from the cop, not understanding concepts like "understeer". So, I proceeded to try to take a left turn across a cut in the median at around 70, and ended up in the median... With the cop (who was off duty and not even going to turn his lights on until I tried running) pulled up behind me. I only managed to get grounded for this one.
Driving from Atlanta to Augusta in my GMC Jimmy when I was around 22, I managed to fall asleep at the wheel, and wake up after I managed to bounce off of an 18-wheeler's rear tires. Luckily for me, all that happened was some rubber getting rubbed onto my right rear wheel well.
And last but not least, when I was very frequently whitewater kayaking, I decided to join my friends in paddling on the Saluda in Columbia like I frequently did. The difference being that on that given day, they had all of the tubes open, and the flow was around 18,000 cfs, as opposed to the 1100 I was used to. Well, after watching my friend get worked over in a playspot called "Maytag", I still thought for some reason, that it seemed like a good idea to take my turn, despite watching him get rolled over repeatedly by that massive hole. Well, I pull into the hydraulic, and realize pretty instantly, upon my realization that the foam pile is higher than my head by a good foot, that this was a decidedly bad idea. I try to surf my way out, and end up getting rolled. Well, after trying horribly unsuccessfully to roll back up, I end up swimming. Through 1/4 mile of class IV/V whitewater... Thank god one of the guys I was with pulled up in front of me just as my peripheral vision was blacking out from exertion caused oxygen depletion and got me into the eddy. Pulled myself onto shore onto a rock, threw up and passed out for a good 10 min or so. Was quite a while before I got back into a boat again, and definitely lost any fearlessness I had.
A picture from my old car pretty much sums up why I'm now partially retarded... No seatbelt + Speeding in the mountains + Semi-wet pavement + Slick tires = These images. I respect tires now... Also the tree happened after hitting a guard rail end head-on and flying off a 10' embankment in the air.
I walked away from this with only three stitches in my head and lacerations to my left elbow and right wrist. Your move trees...
We should all post pictures of automobile wrecks that we were in. Not to try to "one up" one another, but just so we realize how lucky we all are to be alive.
I'll search around the house for photos later, maybe. All I can say is, the green Miata in my avatar wasn't my first miata. I had a silverstone '91. One night I took it out to do a couple of donuts and it was foggy. I woke up in the hospital with no memory of what happened. Turns out, I was either getting on a highway via the ramp, or getting off the highway...no idea. All I know is, a tractor trailer hit the passengers side 1/4 panel. The car spun and went off the road into trees? I have no memory of any of it, I don't even remember leaving the house that night.
The one ambulance crew member knows my dad. He told my dad that when they arrived on the scene, I had no heartbeat, and they had to revive me. I had a collapsed lung, a concussion, a broken collar bone, a few broken ribs, and a few fractured vertebre. I made a full recovery, and since then, I bought my '99. To this day, I try to never take my miata out in the rain, or when it's foggy out at night time.
This hopefully will turn into a "who has the biggest *****" thread.
Today was the start of my 4 day weekend. I cut a tree down, and wanted to cut another tree down, and my wife said, "that'll hit the house". I said, "no ****". So she hung out in the house and did her cityville bullshit, and I decided, this tree is coming down right now. I realized that the tree splits into a "Y" near the middle, which is about 40' up. I figured, if I cut the "Y's" off, nothing would hit the house. I jetted over to my dad's house and borrowed his ricketey old wooden extention ladder. I get home and extended the ladder all the way...not even close to the "Y", so I was like...wtf. Then I drank and beer and stepped back and looked at it. Hmmm....if I had another 3', I could hold the chainsaw over my head and it would make it. Attachment 20432Attachment 20433
3' later, the ladder is in the dump bed of my 1981 Steiner Turf Master, and I'm up in the tree with my chainsaw remembering how my friend Shawn cut through his rope with his chain saw and hit every branch on the way down. He also broke every bone in his legs and his pelvis. He's lucky he wasn't paralyzed. He made it though, and I figured, I don't have a safety rope to cut through, so I grew a set of ***** and cut that fucken tree down.
After it was on the ground, I felt like a god. Then I thought about all the dumb assed **** in my life I should've been DEAD because of.
When I was like 12 I was fueling the pushmower up and the gas can didn't have that little vent cap. It was also made of metal. I figured, it needed a vent hole, so I took a roofing nail and a hammer and put a vent hole in it so it wouldn't spill gas all over the lawnmover when I filled the gas tank. DUMB. 1 spark and I would've been in the burn unit.
A few months ago I changed the trans fluid in my truck. I didn't chock off the wheels, and I couldn't get my socket on a trans pan bolt cause of the shifter linkage. I took the linkage off and shifted it 2 clicks (neutral). The truck rolled off the ramps, and I freaked and got the hell outta there about 1/4 second before it rolled over my head.
There. There's 3 out of the 10,000 things I remember doing where I should've been rewarded a headstone.
What dumbassed things have you guys done that you should be dead because of?
LOL at having that turfmaster contraption and an electric chainsaw...
man up and get a real one.
My brother and I used to like to start fires. Lots of fires. We lived in the country and we would start a fire, play with it and then stomp it out when it started to get too big. Usually the fire was in one of the old buildings on the farm. We were maybe 7 and 8. Anyway, we used to go in the house and mom would ask if we were starting fires and we would say no, all the while standing there with melted Converse sneakers and our hair singed and eyebrows missing. In hindsight, I'm sure we kind of smelled like smoke, but that never occurred to us, lol
One time I saw some nice dry grass so I started a little fire, eventually putting it out. This was in summer when everything was green. Where would one find dead, dry grass at that point of the year? Well, gasoline kills grass. The patch of dead grass was right underneath my dad's 300 gallon gasoline barrel on the farm. Yep, didn't even think about it at that age. Just sat there feeding handfuls of grass into the fire sitting five feet under a couple of hundred gallons of gasoline.
Oh, and another. This one wasn't that dangerous but entailed two of our favorites - fire and guns. Because we had unfettered access to the aforementioned gas barrel (this was in the 70's when it was cheap and no one would think of stealing it) we used to fill glass pop bottles and jars with gas. We had a large hole that was bulldozed out back that we used to burn our trash in. We used to set up a board over the burn hole, line up the bottles and jars of gasoline and then start the trash on fire under the board and move back and shoot the bottles of gas with our .22's. Wonderful fireballs.