CDIH

GonzoStyle Wrote:It took years of getting abused at school before I did anything, I mainly got teased cause of my clothes, we aint have much money so I basically wore the same clothes every day. I was so scared of getting hit though, I just took the abuse. Then one day I was trying to like talk to some kids at the playground and one of them just got up and punched me right in the face. I took a step back, touched my lip and it was gushing blood but I realized, I barely felt anything and then proceeded to beat the fuck outta this kid, it was pretty sweet.

I didnt get no brownies but I did get some ritz crackers from this kid at the park, it was like a type of offering to me for beating the kid. But I couldnt savor the sweetness of the moment cause the fuckin ritz cracker was salted and I was bleeding from the inside of my mouth and started to fuckin run around hysterical from the salt on the wound.

I also punched a much bigger kid in the face in 5th grade, split his lip made him bleed. He was picking on me, I made fun of him back, he pushed me; I took one punch - done. It was like Rocky vs. Drago and I was hailed as a king that entire year too.

I never got in any fights other than that, and I don't remember being a bully at all - plus I was tiny - I am pretty sure I got along with everyone famously. But maybe I was, because in 6th grade I ended up in the class down by the boiler room with all the thugs like in The Wire.

I obviously was of the white collar criminal type and they just harrased me every day. It was always like 8 on 1, so I could never actually hit any of them, and they never hit me, just threatened me and harrassed me every day.

Once, my mother had made this jacket for me. Hand-sown. Totally badass (also b/c we were poor, but she convinced me that mine was better than the ones you can buy at Burt's because this was HAND STITCHED!" The first day I wore it, they pushed me in a mud puddle.

That was a horrible horrible year. But at least I didn't have to duct tape garbage bags to my window. That makes me want to cry.

oh man I remember like the most valuable thing ever was when for my birthday I got a starter jacket. I was so fuckin stoked to wear it to school and figured everyone would be like "oh snap, check out home skillet!!!"

2 seconds after I show up to home room the first comment from one of the niggers was "someones going home without a jacket today!!!!"

I fuckin hid the jacket in my bookbag for the rest of the day and never wore it to school again, I fuckin froze my ass off that winter.

Galt Wrote:I had a friend who had just moved down to the cape from South Boston.

When I was a junior in HS and he was a sophomore, we spent the St. Patricks day weekend up in southie.

His uncle and his grandmother talked about "niggers" and "faggots" so much I couldn't believe it. I'd never heard those words in every day conversation.

I obviously didn't feel confident enough to yell at them, so I just stole a bunch of his baseball cards and stopped hanging out with him.

I was a massive little klepto as a kid, since I couldnt buy anything. 2 random memories come up cause of this story.

The first was when I realized that food stamps werent like real money. After school I went with some kids, who basically let me tag along because they felt bad for me. So we went to the bodega and everyone got slush puppies and candy. So I get mine and break out the food stamps, I got fuckin heckled for using "poor people money". I didnt know there was like an issue with food stamps, I just thought it was seperate money to buy food with.

The other memory is when I got caught stealing. I used to steal all the time, my cousin always had the cool new toys, i'd rob his ass all the time but I think he knew and just didnt say anything. I'd steal from the bodega all the time as well, when I didnt have my poor people money. Then I got sloppy one days and stole something just because I was a fuckin klepto and felt the need to steal just for the hell of it. I stole a fuckin archie comic and I dont even like archie!!!! The fuckin towel head caught me and I fuckin stood home like a rough nigga, till he threatened to call the cops and I turned into a little bitch and started to cry and beg him not to. I even like started to hug him and hysterically cry, he musta been disgusted by me and let me go.

I remember being in lvoe with Stacey Ellis when I was in Kindergarten. I asked my mom if she could come over and play one day after school. I remember her being a bit surprised (probably thinking "is it worse that he may be a 6 year old hornball/future rapist already, or that he may be scouting fag hags?") but relenting.

That day, and I remember this as if it were yesterday, we were all sitting in a 'U" on three benches, and Jimmy Antonangelli told Stacey that he could see her tits. The first thing I did was look at her pants/groin area and said, NO YOU CAN'T!, but I obvioulsy had no idea what I was looking at.

I only have two other memories that day, I remember walking down the street with her next to me and thinking I was the bees knees, and I also remember waiting in the back of my parent's station waggon for my mom to drop Stacey off back home - she brought M&M cookies (never having imagined such a delicious combination) and then we kissed.

Though I don't think were dating at that time because she never came over my house again and I never went over hers.

I steal stuff from Bodegas all the time. Just for fun. Every time I go into one, I won't leave unless I've stolen something.

No matter how worthless it is, I will take something every single time. Just for fun.

When I was in 5th grade, I was a small businessman / loanshark.

I would always bring in like $2 in change and lend people money for lunch, and then I'd make them pay me double by the end of the week. It was ridiculous. And I think borrowing money from me became the "cool" thing to do, so everyone was doing it and I was just making a killing.

I would also go to the corner store and buy bags of those Jolly Ranger Sticks that cost a dime a piece. I would sell them for a quarter. Then there were kids who tried to do the same thing, but with different candies or even tried to undercut me. It became such a big deal that the teacher had to ban it.

Typical idiot, commie public school teacher. Rather than teaching the lesson about capitalism, market efficiencies, and how to maximize profit by buying in bulk, they just regulated the whole market away.

But for a while there, would make about $5 a week going to school when I was 9 years old. - like two or three packs of baseball cards.

Galt Wrote:I remember being in lvoe with Stacey Ellis when I was in Kindergarten. I asked my mom if she could come over and play one day after school. I remember her being a bit surprised (probably thinking "is it worse that he may be a 6 year old hornball/future rapist already, or that he may be scouting fag hags?") but relenting.

That day, and I remember this as if it were yesterday, we were all sitting in a 'U" on three benches, and Jimmy Antonangelli told Stacey that he could see her tits. The first thing I did was look at her pants/groin area and said, NO YOU CAN'T!, but I obvioulsy had no idea what I was looking at.

I only have two other memories that day, I remember walking down the street with her next to me and thinking I was the bees knees, and I also remember waiting in the back of my parent's station waggon for my mom to drop Stacey off back home - she brought M&M cookies (never having imagined such a delicious combination) and then we kissed.

Though I don't think were dating at that time because she never came over my house again and I never went over hers.

such a great story, I had a little tear flow down my cheek, especially at the image if you staring at her cunt, trying to see her tits.

I basically think I had one friend through out elementary school, I was pretty much a complete zero till high school/last year of Junior High.

Scott Schubert was my 1 friend, but his parents made him stop hanging out with me. I came over his house mostly cause of the embarassment of where I lived compared to his mansion of a house. One time though his parents had to go somewhere and decided to leave him at my place for a few hours. So I had like as usual zero in the house to eat, all we had in the fridge was a sip of rotten milk, 1 egg and some really old cheese that was not even in packaging so it was hard as a rock.

Scott was hungry and I offered to make him a sugar sandwich but apprently those arent a common delicacy outside the ghetto. So he fuckin calls his parents and they rush down, like he hadnt eaten for fuckin 3 hours they were acting like he was a fuckin starving african baby. Then they wanted to speak to my mom but she wasnt around, so they threatened to call social services or whatever, cause I was like 7 and left alone all day and no food but when my mom heard later on, she called them and threatened to burn their house down if they tried it.

I never saw scott outside of school again.

I'm dying ova here.

The sugar sandwich and the Santa Glad bag. Priceless.

Galt Wrote:But at least I didn't have to duct tape garbage bags to my window. That makes me want to cry.

it was shopping bags, like from the grocery... which technically were what we used for garbage bags, so I guess you win on a technicality.

this title got changed so my post in there just looks foolish now !

Galt Wrote:I'm dying ova here.

The sugar sandwich and the Santa Glad bag. Priceless.

sugar sandwiches were the fuckin best, fry them up on the skillet with a little butter or oil or whatever fatty substance was around. It was like the white mans version of a churro.

though on those special occasions when we had syrup in the house, OMFG!!!! just fuckin heaven!

My cheeks hurt from laughing so hard.

Judging by the stories.. I think Galt and Gonzo need POOH bear hugs

I used to paint houses when I was in college to help pay my way through school.

We would paint during the week, and they would normally not be home since this was their summer house.

I worked for a guy who had been painting on the Cape for 30 years and didn't even advertise anymore; everything was by word of mouth, so everyone trusted him.

All of the time, people would leave a key for us if we needed to get in the house for something (read: bathroom) But this one family never did. And we painted their like every summer. It wasn't a big deal, just take a leak in the bushes, and if you have to do anything more, just hold it.

But this one day, I had to take a huge dump. I was dying by about 10AM, and to make things worse, I was the only one working that day.

But since I had no one to catch me, and I was just pissed off completely at the fact that this broad always locked the house on us - like she didn't trust us.

So I took a huge crap right in her front lawn. The size that no dog has ever left. It wasn't just doglike logs, but also some assplosion as well. If they bothered to investigate it, they must have been pretty confused by the look of it.

I'm finishing up here at work, plus the bosses wife is sitting right in front of me talking and im pretending to type and important document.

The most random thing just happened while I was typing the last sentence. We got some telemarketer call and the guy had the thickest indian accent. They had the wrong number and I was fucking with him, making him repeat himself. I guess someone was monitoring him in the background and he yells out "YOU BLOODY FOOL, YOU HAVE THE WRONG NUMBER, HANG UP!!!".

I got a chuckle.

What I've wanted all day to know was, did you wait for stupid last night and did you shake her hand?

GonzoStyle Wrote:Just post random memories from your past:

I remember a lame business trip I took up to nyack and I stayed at a holiday inn and that was the one time in my life I had been to a hotel. It was pretty fuckin sweet, I had room service and watched cable TV. I had the sweetest onion rings with a nice cheese steak. I didnt have Cable at home at the time, so it was like a vacation for me, I think thats the only thing i'd qualify as my one real vacation.

good times!

For my last job, I stayed in hotels every monday-Wednesday nights. The cleaning broads always annoyed me (along with the constant "courtesy calls", so I'd keep the "do not disturb" sign during my entire stay.

I would beat off all over the sheets every night. Never used the toilet or a facecloth or a tissue.

I figured it was expected of me and everyone else who stays in a hotel.

Abster Wrote:What I've wanted all day to know was, did you wait for stupid last night and did you shake her hand?

I did indeed stay and wait and shook her hand, it smelled like lilacs and baby powder when I smelled my hand later. Nothing really special happened, we discussed the new jay z album and she said some random dumb shit but it was ok.

ummm, you didn't ask her about the cancer?