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View Full Version : Post Your Real Life Stories Topic



twisterX
01-15-2006, 06:07 PM
I wanna see some of these

ziggyjuarez
01-15-2006, 06:07 PM
I will in a bit.brb

GepperRankins
01-15-2006, 06:08 PM
me too

enoughfakefiles
01-15-2006, 06:09 PM
And this one time at band camp.........

twisterX
01-15-2006, 06:09 PM
Lol

GepperRankins
01-15-2006, 06:10 PM
you want my life story, or a story from my life? *dabs

enoughfakefiles
01-15-2006, 06:14 PM
you want my life story, or a story from my life? *dabs

Which is the longest :unsure:

twisterX
01-15-2006, 06:16 PM
Lets just start with a single story.

GepperRankins
01-15-2006, 06:23 PM
you want my life story, or a story from my life? *dabs

Which is the longest :unsure:
it's a long story

ziggyjuarez
01-15-2006, 06:30 PM
This one time at school i was walking out of P.E.I felt someone push me so i turn around and push
the nearest person to me.He gos "Why the fuck you push me?"I say becasue you puched me".He says
"No i dint.I say "oh alright sorry then".I continue walking then pow!The mother fucker punched me on the back
of my head.I just smile and walk away.It was the end of 8th grade and i dint want to get in trouble for fighting.
__________________________________________________________________________________________

This one time me and my friend wanted to go outside and walk around for a bit.We decided to walk to "Food for less" and
buy some soadas.We then walked to oildale and walked along the trail.the trail is a never ending walk road in the middle of no where.
We kept walking for about 6-7 hours.By that time we couldent walk another step.And it was dark as fuck.We found a park and sat
down at the benches.Some dude gave us a few beers and we got drunk.We ended up sleeping at the park.We made it home and
the first thing i did when i got home was drink a whole lotta water.
________________________________________________________________________________________

This one time manker PMed me a web cameria haX.I dint have any one to really try on so i just picked Dave.I was watching him for like 40 minutes.Then he put on a porno and started to wank.I turned it off as soon as he pulled down his pants.
_______________________________________________________________________________________
I woke up one morning covered in blood.It was all over my face and body.I got into a fight with someone that stayed at the house the night before.He said "Korn" was gay so i kicked him in the face.I think when i fell asleep he stomped me.Dint think of it at the time and dint do anything about it
_______________________________________________________________________________________
More to Come...

enoughfakefiles
01-15-2006, 06:32 PM
_____________________________________________________________________________________

This one time manker PMed me a web cameria haX.I dint have any one to really try on so i just picked Dave.I was watching him for like 40 minutes.Then he put on a porno and started to wank.I turned it off as soon as he pulled up his pants.
_______________________________________________________________________________________


So you watch it till he'd finished :rolleyes:

ziggyjuarez
01-15-2006, 06:34 PM
Look at the last line...

enoughfakefiles
01-15-2006, 06:36 PM
Look at the last line...

I quoted it :lookaroun

ziggyjuarez
01-15-2006, 06:40 PM
haha you changed it.hahaha

enoughfakefiles
01-15-2006, 06:41 PM
haha you changed it.hahaha

Why have you edited yours :lol:

ziggyjuarez
01-15-2006, 06:43 PM
I edited in the last story:snooty:

twisterX
01-15-2006, 06:45 PM
:no2:

ziggyjuarez
01-15-2006, 06:51 PM
Thats pritty much all the stories i have.My life is really boring.

Proper Bo
01-15-2006, 06:52 PM
my engine blew up in me car once and i was sat on the side of the A1 for hours on end:dabs:

ziggyjuarez
01-15-2006, 06:59 PM
:dabs:

manker
01-15-2006, 07:18 PM
I'd finished my course in university and upon my return to the family home, found my social options somewhat limited. After three years away, most of my previous peer group had either moved on or just politely declined reunion suggestions. To remedy this I started to frequent the nearest pub on a very regular basis. This pub was conveniently situated right next door to my house - so convenient, in fact, that I rarely ventured outside that house/pub twenty yard radius during my three month arseing about stint. Naturally, I got pretty familiar with the clientele.


The regulars were on the whole old. It was an old man's pub so I latched onto two guys who were nearer to my own age than a pensionable one. The first, Grub, was a local ne'er-do-well who was proud of the fact he'd never paid any income tax. He also did a good line in off the back of a lorry merchandise. The second, Stevo, was a more socially adjusted, quiet type. Luckily, they were avid pot smokers as well as borderline alcoholics, so they were able to facilitate my fondness for both the green stuff and pub company. I got my first invite for a smoke at Grub's pretty quickly. Stevo had gotten some bush, and I was to supply a PlayStation and munchies.


The night was fairly mundane - talk of women, drinking exploits and possible avenues for cheap pot. After a few cans and spliffs, Stevo got up and intimated to the door. Grub bolted upright from his slouched Tekken pose and demanded, "Where the hell are you going?".

Stevo mouthed cagily, "Piss".

"I'm timing you mind!" came the considered reply. This scene was repeated during every smoke in the ensuing weeks. I never paid much attention, but often wondered why I never had to account for my movements in Grub's place.


I discovered the answer to this after a particularly heavy Tuesday -- giro day, so they were flush. Come ten o'clock, it’s fair to say we were shitfaced; the short stroll to Grub's house became difficult, so we took a short cut through his back lane. After several stumbles into puddles and the like we eventually got into our haven. Things were great for fifteen minutes -- Grub fired up the PlayStation and I was looking forward to continuing our soccer league. However, I was about to get my semi-final against NAC Breda cut short ... .


With both Grub and I engaged in PlayStation land Stevo had sloped off to the shitter. On his return, Grub jumped out of the seat and demanded, "Have you had a shit?!" Stevo denied this furiously and countered he'd merely been to get some cans from the fridge.

Grub seemed to accept this until I meekly inquired what the thin dark shape on Stevo's shoe was. We were all now fixated on this sliver of brown; Stevo's eyes rolled back in his head and he offered, with unusual bravado, "It's a fucking slug!" I feebly asked if there were lots of slugs in the kitchen, and Stevo venomously came back with, "From the back lane dickhead, millions of 'em out there".


Now Grub was watching this mini-debate with a distant, almost serene, look in his bloodshot eyes. He calmly repeated his earlier shit inquiry, and likewise Stevo again stated the slug alibi, but he was babbling -- remarking how it was the season for slugs and that the bastards get everywhere if you don't leave saucers of beer in the back garden. Grub was having none of it. He demanded that I check out the bog.


Well, it was his house. I was smoking his pot, drinking his beer, and he is a lot bigger than me. I meekly made my way past the defiant Stevo, who was admirably sticking to his story, verifying it with a declaration that "it has to be a slug 'cuz it just moved".


It was carnage in the shitter. The U-shaped mat around the pan was caked. Stevo had valiantly attempted a clean-up operation but in his enthusiasm hadn't reckoned that rubbing with toilet paper just changing the infirm lumps into a kind of paste, which ingrains itself into the fibers of the mat. I then noticed the brown trail leading from the pan almost to my feet. Stevo had been caught horribly short and to make matters worse it became evident that he was a hoverer. In his drunken state he must have completely fallen over at one point because there was another pile of shit at least three feet from the pan in the opposite direction.


It was while I was considering the freakish amount of turd that had missed the toilet that I noticed the silence emanating from the living room, I realized they could both hear my uncontrollable laughter - therefore Grub would be aware of the invalidity of the slug tale. On my return and report Stevo was ordered to clean up properly. He then informed me of his fear of toilets and his inability to sit on them, and Grub confirmed that this was not an isolated incident.


I was subsequently sworn to secrecy, because Stevo had somehow managed to conceal his fear from his girlfriend and teenage son. I complied, content with occasional jibes at Stevo, but only at our post-pub smokes.




Some years later I had progressed from student loner, got a job, bought a house out of town, and was happily living with my girlfriend. She took over tenancy of the aforementioned pub so my friendship with Grub and Stevo was renewed. Very late one night both rolled through the door. Stevo's girlfriend had dumped him for reasons I could not extract out of the drunken pair, so I took pity on them and decided a lock-in would cheer up the depressed Stevo. It was a Saturday and the pub was fairly full; most of those present decided that this unexpected extension of pub hours was an excellent idea, so they stayed.


Of course, Stevo and Grub knew everyone, so they were accepting pints from their brethren as a reward for the lock-in. Maybe an hour passed when a mighty knock on the door was heard over the pub conversation. "Police?" was directed at my betrothed, as if being a landlady gave her x-ray vision. She duly answered the door, and to everyone's surprise it was Stevo's recently-estranged girlfriend, complete with young son, ready to give him one last chance ... but Stevo was nowhere to be found!


I got her a rum and coke and the boy a panda pop, and they patiently waited for around twenty minutes, making small talk with the locals. On Stevo's return he staggered unconvincingly toward the bar, his eyes fixed only on his pint. The lad shouted "Dad!" Stevo swung around and looked, confused, at his family. The lad clambered down from the bar stool and made a beeline for his father, hugging him to a collective "Ahhh" from the attentive locals.


‘Dad, what’s all that stuff on the back of your jumper and on your jeans? I’ve got it all over my hands now’


Of course you know what was on his hand -- and so did everyone else when Stevo brought it up for nasal verification. With the crowd agog, Grub caught my gaze, nodded toward Stevo, and shouted, "It's a fucking slug!"


At the time of writing, Stevo is still single.

MagicNakor
01-15-2006, 07:20 PM
When I was in junior high (grade 10), it was widely rumoured that I had planted two bombs: one at the school, and one at the courthouse. Some other guy (not a student :P) had done the courthouse up, the school thing was just totally fabricated.

Nonetheless, I was brought in for questioning anyhow. Bomb-threats were investigated even before the no-tolerance policies.

:shuriken:

GepperRankins
01-15-2006, 07:42 PM
I'd finished my course in university and upon my return to the family home, found my social options somewhat limited. After three years away, most of my previous peer group had either moved on or just politely declined reunion suggestions. To remedy this I started to frequent the nearest pub on a very regular basis. This pub was conveniently situated right next door to my house - so convenient, in fact, that I rarely ventured outside that house/pub twenty yard radius during my three month arseing about stint. Naturally, I got pretty familiar with the clientele.


The regulars were on the whole old. It was an old man's pub so I latched onto two guys who were nearer to my own age than a pensionable one. The first, Grub, was a local ne'er-do-well who was proud of the fact he'd never paid any income tax. He also did a good line in off the back of a lorry merchandise. The second, Stevo, was a more socially adjusted, quiet type. Luckily, they were avid pot smokers as well as borderline alcoholics, so they were able to facilitate my fondness for both the green stuff and pub company. I got my first invite for a smoke at Grub's pretty quickly. Stevo had gotten some bush, and I was to supply a PlayStation and munchies.


The night was fairly mundane - talk of women, drinking exploits and possible avenues for cheap pot. After a few cans and spliffs, Stevo got up and intimated to the door. Grub bolted upright from his slouched Tekken pose and demanded, "Where the hell are you going?".

Stevo mouthed cagily, "Piss".

"I'm timing you mind!" came the considered reply. This scene was repeated during every smoke in the ensuing weeks. I never paid much attention, but often wondered why I never had to account for my movements in Grub's place.


I discovered the answer to this after a particularly heavy Tuesday -- giro day, so they were flush. Come ten o'clock, it’s fair to say we were shitfaced; the short stroll to Grub's house became difficult, so we took a short cut through his back lane. After several stumbles into puddles and the like we eventually got into our haven. Things were great for fifteen minutes -- Grub fired up the PlayStation and I was looking forward to continuing our soccer league. However, I was about to get my semi-final against NAC Breda cut short ... .


With both Grub and I engaged in PlayStation land Stevo had sloped off to the shitter. On his return, Grub jumped out of the seat and demanded, "Have you had a shit?!" Stevo denied this furiously and countered he'd merely been to get some cans from the fridge.

Grub seemed to accept this until I meekly inquired what the thin dark shape on Stevo's shoe was. We were all now fixated on this sliver of brown; Stevo's eyes rolled back in his head and he offered, with unusual bravado, "It's a fucking slug!" I feebly asked if there were lots of slugs in the kitchen, and Stevo venomously came back with, "From the back lane dickhead, millions of 'em out there".


Now Grub was watching this mini-debate with a distant, almost serene, look in his bloodshot eyes. He calmly repeated his earlier shit inquiry, and likewise Stevo again stated the slug alibi, but he was babbling -- remarking how it was the season for slugs and that the bastards get everywhere if you don't leave saucers of beer in the back garden. Grub was having none of it. He demanded that I check out the bog.


Well, it was his house. I was smoking his pot, drinking his beer, and he is a lot bigger than me. I meekly made my way past the defiant Stevo, who was admirably sticking to his story, verifying it with a declaration that "it has to be a slug 'cuz it just moved".


It was carnage in the shitter. The U-shaped mat around the pan was caked. Stevo had valiantly attempted a clean-up operation but in his enthusiasm hadn't reckoned that rubbing with toilet paper just changing the infirm lumps into a kind of paste, which ingrains itself into the fibers of the mat. I then noticed the brown trail leading from the pan almost to my feet. Stevo had been caught horribly short and to make matters worse it became evident that he was a hoverer. In his drunken state he must have completely fallen over at one point because there was another pile of shit at least three feet from the pan in the opposite direction.


It was while I was considering the freakish amount of turd that had missed the toilet that I noticed the silence emanating from the living room, I realized they could both hear my uncontrollable laughter - therefore Grub would be aware of the invalidity of the slug tale. On my return and report Stevo was ordered to clean up properly. He then informed me of his fear of toilets and his inability to sit on them, and Grub confirmed that this was not an isolated incident.


I was subsequently sworn to secrecy, because Stevo had somehow managed to conceal his fear from his girlfriend and teenage son. I complied, content with occasional jibes at Stevo, but only at our post-pub smokes.




Some years later I had progressed from student loner, got a job, bought a house out of town, and was happily living with my girlfriend. She took over tenancy of the aforementioned pub so my friendship with Grub and Stevo was renewed. Very late one night both rolled through the door. Stevo's girlfriend had dumped him for reasons I could not extract out of the drunken pair, so I took pity on them and decided a lock-in would cheer up the depressed Stevo. It was a Saturday and the pub was fairly full; most of those present decided that this unexpected extension of pub hours was an excellent idea, so they stayed.


Of course, Stevo and Grub knew everyone, so they were accepting pints from their brethren as a reward for the lock-in. Maybe an hour passed when a mighty knock on the door was heard over the pub conversation. "Police?" was directed at my betrothed, as if being a landlady gave her x-ray vision. She duly answered the door, and to everyone's surprise it was Stevo's recently-estranged girlfriend, complete with young son, ready to give him one last chance ... but Stevo was nowhere to be found!


I got her a rum and coke and the boy a panda pop, and they patiently waited for around twenty minutes, making small talk with the locals. On Stevo's return he staggered unconvincingly toward the bar, his eyes fixed only on his pint. The lad shouted "Dad!" Stevo swung around and looked, confused, at his family. The lad clambered down from the bar stool and made a beeline for his father, hugging him to a collective "Ahhh" from the attentive locals.


‘Dad, what’s all that stuff on the back of your jumper and on your jeans? I’ve got it all over my hands now’


Of course you know what was on his hand -- and so did everyone else when Stevo brought it up for nasal verification. With the crowd agog, Grub caught my gaze, nodded toward Stevo, and shouted, "It's a fucking slug!"


At the time of writing, Stevo is still single.
if we wanted to hear your life story we would have asked

manker
01-15-2006, 07:43 PM
It was in my clipboard :dabs:

4play
01-15-2006, 07:44 PM
I was in bed with my ex on a sunday morning watching walking with dino's when i heard an almighty smash from outside. I got up to look only to see my ex's brother run out from a garden across the road covered in claret wearing not a stitch and cupping his nads being closely follow by a rather large irish woman with a knife.

I quickly threw some cloths on and jumped into my car and drove down the road to pick him up.

turns out the night before he got really drunk in the local and got off with his new girlfriends mum. When he turned up the next day the mum was less than impressed for him to go upstairs and service her daughter. As soon as the daughter unlocked her door she was pushed aside by the mum who was brandishing a rather large knife. With the poor fella laying in bed starkers he had nowhere to go but out the closed upstaris window. After landing in the front garden he shouted up for his pants which failed to arrive. The front door swung open and he was off down the road bollock naked.

Lilmiss
01-15-2006, 07:47 PM
i don't have any. :no:

Proper Bo
01-15-2006, 07:48 PM
i once met this beetch who drugged me and stuff:dabs:

Lilmiss
01-15-2006, 07:51 PM
i once drugged this eejit who talked for hours n hours.
regretted it afterwards, like. :unsure:

Proper Bo
01-15-2006, 07:52 PM
i got abused too:dabs:

enoughfakefiles
01-15-2006, 07:53 PM
i once drugged this eejit who talked for hours n hours.
regretted it afterwards, like. :unsure:

Did he ramble on and on about his favourite soccer team sunderland :rolleyes:

Lilmiss
01-15-2006, 07:55 PM
Did he ramble on and on about his favourite soccer team sunderland :rolleyes:


can't remember, i came on here. :lookaroun :happy:

manker
01-15-2006, 07:56 PM
Did he ramble on and on about his favourite soccer team sunderland :rolleyes:


can't remember, i came on here. :lookaroun :happy:You cybered with someone on FST while Bo was there.

Shame on you.

Proper Bo
01-15-2006, 07:56 PM
i watched:naughty:

manker
01-15-2006, 07:57 PM
Hawt stuff :ermm:

Lilmiss
01-15-2006, 07:58 PM
actually, i do believe he tried cybering Dave while in my msn.
cnut. :snooty:

Proper Bo
01-15-2006, 07:58 PM
:glag:

Monkeee
01-15-2006, 09:05 PM
One time i went to my friends house, my white friend, my mexican friend, and my chinese friend was there. The mexican friend got in a fight with my white friend so i was like "HEYYY!!!, can't we settle this over a blunt...!!" So my chinese friend went outside and got a dub and came back in. He rolled it and we smoked it. We went out, watched the Polar Express IMAX, went back to the mexican guy's house and went to sleep. Woke up the mexican friend made us all burritos. Couple hours later we smoked again, passed out, woke up again 2 hours later, never saw the chinaman again. We thought he died so we left to my house. 1 Month later we find him again and he forgot to tell us he had to go Hong Kong.

ziggyjuarez
01-15-2006, 09:07 PM
ahahahaahah:lol: :unsure:

Lilmiss
01-15-2006, 09:12 PM
i puked on me pals head when she was asleep, and when she woke in the morn i told her she was really ill during the night. :ermm:

enoughfakefiles
01-15-2006, 09:13 PM
i puked on me pals head when she was asleep, and when she woke in the morn i told her she was really ill during the night. :ermm:

I've quoted this for teh evidence :schnauz:

twisterX
01-15-2006, 09:17 PM
lol

Lilmiss
01-15-2006, 09:18 PM
I've quoted this for teh evidence :schnauz:


she also had dreadful asthma too, so i'd spray deodarant under her covers to make her get up. i also carried on playfighting her when she was having a fit, thinking she was laughing. :unsure: oh dear, i should shut up and hope she never becomes a member here.



:ermm:

JPaul
01-15-2006, 09:18 PM
you want my life story, or a story from my life? *dabs

Which is the longest :unsure:
Which is the longer.

Oops, sorry wrong thread.

Gripper
01-15-2006, 09:23 PM
Me and 2 of me mates got arrested for playing Christine with a shopping trolley,whilst pissed and stoned :)

Monkeee
01-15-2006, 09:29 PM
onetime, Ms. Cleo told me bullshit....