CDIH

were you under a porch too?

lets recap, you've had sexual experiences with a person who was:

deaf
missing a few fingers
retarded
double amputee
your male cousin

did i forget anyone?

sounds like circus sex

Another story:

When I was younger, I was a pyro. I don't mean I liked to just set things on fire, I liked to blow shit up.

Thankfully I have outgrown that and I now value my life a bit more.

My dad used to hunt and he owned a muzzle loader. This also meant that he had pyrodex gunpowder for it. Well, I taught myself how to make the equivalent of firecrackers with a bit of pyrodex, something for a wick, and papertowel to pack the shit tightly in whatever I put it in.

One day, my parents were gone and just Baker and I were home. So, of course, I had to share my newfound knowledge.

After we made some small explosions, we decided to pack half a 20 oz bottle with pyrodex and see what happened. I made sure to put a long ass wick on that fucker cause I knew it would be a big bang and I didn't want to get hurt.

So we take it out into the field (lived in the country at this point) and put it in the firepit. This firepit had a big metal rim around it to contain the fire. I put the bottle leaning up against this rim. I lit the wick and we ran about 75 yards away to get away from it.

The bang was so loud that one of the windows in the garage by the house shattered. At that point we thought we were no doubt going to be in trouble.

We went down to see what it had done to the firepit and it had moved the rim almost 10 feet. There was a bigass crater in the ground too.

About 5 minutes later, police sirens could be heard and we both ran into the house and hid in the basement. We heard a knock on the door, but we didn't go answer. After about a half hour, we came out and nobody was there so we figured we were off the hook.

So we went back outside and dragged the pit back into place and did the best we could to fill in the hole, but we both forgot about the broken window.

My dad didn't find the broken window for about a week and when he did find it, he didn't understand what had happened. He started asking us about it to find out if we knew anything, and I think he knew that we caused it, but didn't know how. Luckily Baker kept his mouth shut and didn't tell him what happened.

drusilla Wrote:lets recap, you've had sexual experiences with a person who was:

deaf
missing a few fingers
retarded
double amputee
your male cousin

did i forget anyone?

the little person

well I only got a blow job for the retard, so thats not sex.

and my cousin blew me too but it wasnt a real blow job, he just sucked it.

I fucked a bitch who was on chemo once, with her wig off. dunno if that counts for anything.

Another Pyro story:

This one involves the same firepit mentioned above.

We were doing renovations on the house we were staying in. It was part of the reason we bought the house. Just to fix it up and resell it.

So we had just finished ripping out pretty much the entire second floor and had a big pile of old wood stacked in the firepit.

So I drove down to the gas station and filled up our little 2 gallon gas can with gas.

When I got back I poured about 2/3 of it on this pile of wood and made a trail of gas out a ways (probably 3-4 ft) so we could light it safely and get back.

Baker grabs a handful of dry grass and puts it on the end of this little trail and turns and walks over to the table where he has set the matches.

So I pour more gas on the pile of grass he has put down and turn and walk away to get the gas can safely out of the way.

Unbeknownst to me, Baker lays down next to this pile of grass and lights the match. All I hear is a big swooshing sound as this pile goes up.

I turn around and Baker is rolling on the grass about 25-30 ft away from the pile. I get over to him and his eyebrows are completely gone and half of his hair is singed. I ask him if he is ok and he looks up at me with a look that had to be the epitome of fear and says "I think so". So I get him up on his feet, check him over for burns and don't find any. Only his hair had been singed and eyebrows gone.

I ask him what the fuck he did and he tells me that he only had 1 match and didn't want it to blow out so he laid down next to the pile of grass to light it.

I just shook my head and laughed at him. He had to shave his head because of that.

And the last pyro story...

This one was when I was a bit younger than the other two.

I think I was about 9 or 10.

I went to my cousins house to hang out and sleep over.

My cousin was more of a pyro than I could ever dream of being. I think I learned half the shit from him.

He had a flint, the kind you use to light bunson burners and shit with. He had swiped it from the school.

So I am sitting on his bed, flicking this flint and he is going through his dresser looking for something.

All of a sudden, he says "there it is" and turns around and sprays hair spray at my hands.

In just a flash, I am holding a fireball in my hands.

I dropped the flint and started flailing my arms. The sleeve of my right arm caught on fire. It only lasted a few seconds because of me flailing my arms, but it still managed to burn me pretty badly. I had a blister there for a while. I also had to throw that shirt away so that my mom/dad wouldn't find out what had happened.

I still have a scar on my right wrist and it still itches from time to time. Sometimes it itches so bad I scratch at it until I draw blood.

I used to think my cousin was cool, but now I hate him for that.

None of these stories better hatch over dinner tomorrow.

I am not too proud to vomit all over the table.

My BB gun stories.

This was later in my teen years, probably when I was around 17.

I had an old style single pump Daisy BB gun that my dad had gotten me when I was 8. I had never even taken it out of the packaging up until we moved back to Grand Rapids and I found it while unpacking things.

So I load the gun up and start shooting my dart board with it to see if I am any good.

I am hitting the bullseye or pretty damn close to it just about every time from different distances.

My bedroom was going to be in the basement (finished basement) and the room I had went from one end of the house to the other. A good 50 ft distance.

So I go down there and get a brilliant idea to shoot the light bulb of the only lamp that does not have a globe on it.

I go to the other end of the room, take aim, and fire. It shatters the bulb with ease and I am pretty proud of myself until I realize I have to get the broken bulb out of the socket. After some thinking, I used a pair of rubber handled pliers to turn the broken one out and replace it.

A few days later, Baker and I were arguing about something, and I threatened to shoot him with the gun. I started chasing him through the house with the BB gun and he locks himself in the bathroom. Again, my parents weren't home to stop me from my stupidity. So, I aimed the gun at the crack between the bottom of the door and the floor and pulled the trigger. The BB ricocheted off the floor and managed to hit Baker in the leg.

He had a welt the size of a penny for a few days, but the skin didn't break.

He broke the gun after that breaking off the part that you use to cock it with.

Did someone put something in Jack's drink? Because all of the sudden he is Story Central.

I enjoyed the pyro stories.

I'm not saying they are bad. He just surprised me with a bunch all at once.

Hawt Baux Wrote:None of these stories better hatch over dinner tomorrow.

I am not too proud to vomit all over the table.

remember that time my cousin sucked my toddler cock... pass the garlic bread!!!

it makes for nice dinner conversation

JOKE SON YOU, THEY DON'T SERVE GARLIC BREAD AT CHILIS!

"Remember when I used my mom's vibrator on my junk and thought I caught AIDS?...You gonna finish that linguine?

Hawt Baux Wrote:JOKE SON YOU, THEY DON'T SERVE GARLIC BREAD AT CHILIS!

that is very upsetting

At least i don't think they do, i tried to swing for Friday's but Beth doesn't like it that much so eh.

Hawt Baux Wrote:At least i don't think they do, i tried to swing for Friday's but Beth doesn't like it that much so eh.

boooooooooooo, I wanted a mudslide!!!!

Those actually look like glorified milkshakes.

I'd like to try one.