Your best story

[NoisyDante]

I was in my sophomore year at Berklee College of Music in Boston, MA.  My friends and I were drinking quite heavily, and decided to see what might be across the Mass Ave bridge on the MIT campus.  I won the footrace across the bridge to the Cambridge side, which blocked a lot of cars causing them to honk and swear.

We made a right onto Memorial Drive, and came across some sort of shindig in a building called The Gray house on Ames St, not sure if it's a dormitory or a frat house or whatever.  We were not on the guest list, obviously, so we went back around to the side and climbed the stone wall to get in.  Upon getting in, my friend Nick said 'spread out!' and I didn't really know what he meant but I saw him disappear into the crowd.  All 7 of us spread out and tried to blend into the crowd, though unfortunately some of got snagged by the security.  Don't know why security was at the party, but they were.  One guy grabbed me by the collar and said, "Gotcha ya little faggot!" which I found hilarious, began laughing at him, he did not appreciate this, and I was tossed out the front door.  Literally tossed, he then yelled, "And stay out", which I laughed at even more.

I then called Nick on his phone, and said, "I got kicked out, let's get go somewhere else."  He said to meet him on the corner by Memorial.

I walked to Memorial where 2 other ejected friends were, and asked, "You guys see the others?"

We then heard a yell, 3 of our other friends were running down the block screaming, "Go!  Start running!"  We then heard the crash of a glass window being broken, a wooden chair fell into the middle of the street, and my friend Nick then jumped from the second story onto the grass with a filled backpack which he didn't have before we arrived.  We hightailed it back to the bridge and lost whoever it was that was chasing us, probably security.

Nick filled us in that it was a dry party, but he did manage to find the only stash of wine and scotch in the entire building, shoved it in a bag, and leapt out the window when someone found him.

You better believe we made all of that booze disappear that evening.  That was an exceptionally entertaining evening.

[lethe]

I'm drawing a blank on a worthwhile story of my own but loving all yours. 

[cyrus buelton]

Sac,

That story is one of the best I have heard of Motogp and SnakeGirl.

That was before my official meeting of them in Indianapolis unexpectedly one weekend. make the beast with two backs, I don't even remember what I was in town for. Might have been time trials for the Indy 500, who make the beast with two backsing knows.

One of the standout stories of that night is of course the famous Artwerk Photo of Nick and I. Or our 4' 11" bartender who weight about 50lbs claiming she was going to be a firewoman (she called it that, not me) and tried to carry Nick or Suzy's brother across the bar. I don't recall the outcome, but probably not in her favor.

make the beast with two backsing jager and a lot of Stella.

(Just met Suzy at said bar the night before the 500 and the god damn wench made me close the bars down with her. Thanks 2 hours of sleep)

Oh I miss the old days of them together. Such a great match. Just didn't work.

[badgalbetty]

Cyrus-thats not a very nice thing to do to cats or any animal. In fact,I think thats pretty sick.
You disappoint and disgust me.
BGB

[cyrus buelton]

Cyrus-thats not a very nice thing to do to cats or any animal. In fact,I think thats pretty sick.
You disappoint and disgust me.
BGB

That's fine.

When they cause over $1,000 worth of scratch marks on your vehicle and then hide in the engine block of anothers when they started it..........do you want me to paint you a picture of that mess and damage to a new car?..........then we'll talk.

As I mentioned......we called every group in the city to no avail.

Walk in our shoes......then we'll chat about it.

[Pip]

Here's one of mine.

http://trenner.blogspot.com/2009/01/raccoon-city.html

 

A tale well spun, my friend.

[badgalbetty]

Cyrus------>"Walk in our shoes......then we'll chat about it."

me----------> Try mine........you don't have the balls!

[SacDuc]

Cyrus------>"Walk in our shoes......then we'll chat about it."

me----------> Try mine........you don't have the balls!

Okay, you two can compare ball size through PMs. We'll keep this thread about the stories.

kthanksluvyabye


sac

[badgalbetty]

sorry Carl

[Duck-Stew]

Got a few of my own, but this one's short & sweet and the only thing in my head at this late hour:

Ferris State University is in Big Rapids, MI.  Never heard of it?  Yeah, me neither until I got accepted.  Anywho, as luck would have it I got paired up with an alcoholic room mate who was over 21, had a car, and had a credit card his Dad paid the bill on.  My liver has a much shorter shelf-life thanks to Simon Sytsma and that credit card.

Anywho, it's Michigan in the winter so it's cold as f*&k.  Thursday nights were the big drinkin' night and the Alibi bar was *THE* place to go, so we went.  As per usual, Simon is trying hard to get laid from anything which resembles a female and I'm sipping whatever was cheap and bottled as the tap beer was t-h-i-n-n-e-d out a bit.

I'm bopping along to the music (this boy don't dance, sober or otherwise) when I notice the bar door open and it's filled with the barrel chest of a State-Trooper.

make the beast with two backs.  I'm 20.  I must have been the ONLY one in the place to see the Troopers enter.  I turned around after seeing that shiny star pinned on that uniform, finished my beer, set the bottle down and proceeded to walk out the same door they were all filing in through.  Must have passed about 6 of them as 4 or 5 had already filed inside.  As I'm approaching the last outside door, it opens to reveal one more MI State Trooper.....Who held the door open for me as I left!!!

I thanked him and proceeded to walk home (about 2 miles) without my jacket.  When you're as drunk as I was, you don't much feel the cold....  Simon?  Well, they let him go as he was over 21 but they made it a point to put in the papers the next Sunday that 50 or so were found to be underage and drunk.  The bar survived a bit longer, but was gone by the next semester.

[ducpainter]

Everyone please send ducpainter multiple PMs until he posts the story of how he convinced the Missus to go out on a date with him. I love that story.

sac

I'll tell anyway...not sure if it's my best, but it is good.

About ten years ago I had split with my wife of 15 years...no drama...things just kinda fell apart.

I was a wild and wooly NH resident at the time...pony tail down to my ass...I think the beard was gone.

I walked into a bar kinda late...it was my birthday and I was alone.

There was a hot blonde behind the bar...I made all the typical chatter...until close to 11 when she said "get out, you're cutting in to my drinking time." She's a New Yorker, so being rude comes natural.

I was kind of shocked, and disappointed, but I left and came home to my empty house.

I continued to patronize the bar and finally got up the nerve to ask her out.

She replied, "I don't go out with guys with pony tails." I smiled and said OK.

The next day after work I went and got my hair cut. I walked into the bar and sat down with an evil grin on my face. She looked at me and without saying a word poured my drink and disappeared.

Later I would find out she disappeared to tell her boss that I had cut my hair and now she had to go out with me. She didn't really want to, and never thought I'd cut off my pony tail.

We'll be married on the 25th of this month....the one thing I told her I wasn't willing to do. Oh well things change. There's been a lot of water over the dam since we met, but cutting that pony tail off turned out to be a good choice.

[RAT900]

Damn ^^^^^ this is good...hell its Biblical....

just don't let it play out like Samson and Delilah 

[Bun-bun]

I'll need at least a full page to myself in this thread.


1) A week before I turned 18, my neighbors left on a trip to europe, and asked me to check on their house while they were gone. The also gave me the keys to their Mercury Montego MX (351 W, posi rear, etc.). I was driving a 1966 VW beetle at the time.
     So, My birth date comes, and the herb and alcohol flow. About 11 o'clock, we run out of beer, and decide to take the neighbors Montego on a beer run. On the way back, I decide to "see what this thing'll do" and floor it. We're doing about 110 when I see the flashing lights behind me, so I brake hard, and make a quick right turn off the highway onto a secondary street where the car promptly dies. My friend in the passenger seat has been swilling off of a quart of beer, and i tell him to hide it quick.
     Cop pulls up behind us, "license and registration" and this is where the fun really begins;
The license and registration have absolutely nothing in common. I explain the situation, and luckily the cop decides I'm too stupid to have stolen the car, and proceeds to start writing. Just then, my friend opens the passenger door, and the quart of beer (which he had cleverly hidden between the seat and the door) drops out and goes rolling across the pavement.
The cop says absolutely nothing.
I just put my head in my hands.

The cop finishes writing, and tells me "head straight home. If I see you out here again tonight, I'll take you straight to jail" and hands me
.
.
.
A WARNING!

[cyrus buelton]

Cyrus------>"Walk in our shoes......then we'll chat about it."

me----------> Try mine........you don't have the balls!

Want to have a peeing contest next or a roller derby match?

[Bun-bun]

Towson state U is just north of Baltimore. In 198X I was enrolled as a communications major, and had the opportunity to work at the college radio station. After a few semesters, I worked my way up to DJ a show from 2 to 4 am called "The Cosmic Music Experience". The playlist was basically Pink Floyd, Tubular Bells, Jimi, Grateful Dead, Jeff Beck, etc. I was a natural in that I actually liked all that hippy trippy music.
At that time of night, the studio was shall we say, less than crowded. Usually just me and about half the time, a producer handling the phones and pulling albums from the stacks.
So one night, I'm in the studio, and my buddy calls on the station phone to tell me he'd just scored some amazing bud, so I told him to come right over. I had a producer that night, but I knew he was cool, so I figured it was O.K..
So my producer goes downstairs to let my buddy in, and they come back, walk in, and my buddy pulls a bong out of his backpack. It gets passed around a couple of times, and just as I'm about to hit it, the current song ends. I do a station identification, and start another song, then take a huge hit and hack and ralf for about a minute. You know, SLUUUUURP. . HACK!! ARRF!! ARRGLE!! RALF!!! HOLY SHIT!!!!

The phone rings and my producer picks it up, listens a minute, turns white as a sheet, runs over to the console, and CUTS OFF MY MICROPHONE.
T