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Crazy dudes you used to know.

I knew a guy that won a bet about deer hunting by jumping out of a tree onto a doe and killing it with a knife. The deer nearly killed him.
 
So, my friend Eddie, the hanging monkey-dumper ( post#15 ) tells us guys one day while we're hanging around, that he has no "feeling" in his pecker. Now, we're mid-teens at the time, we're puzzled like, what do you mean ? He says, I can't feel nothing, no pain, you want me to show you ? In disbelief, we say, yeah. So, we all go into his bathroom ( no one's home ) . He pulls out his pecker, kneels down next to the toilet bowl, raises the toilet seat, and lays it across the edge of the porcelain toilet bowl. Then he proceeds to take the toilet seat and slam it down hard several times over his pecker, all the while looking up at us with a smile on his face. We all grimace and moan loudly in unison, watching this spectacle, while wondering how is this possible ? ... until shortly thereafter we realize the bumper-stop on the underside of the toilet seat provided a 'gap' that prevented the sausage from becoming a pancake !! LOL !!
 
We had neighbor across the street that passed away from health issues last year (RIP) that we're pretty sure was legit crazy. She had moments when she acted like a perfectly normal, well-educated person, but then would go off on various tirades about the Colombian drug lords that would sneak into her house at night thru the attic and get her addicted to Oxycodone. She'd tell us that she was writing a book to expose the drug lords and Obama Muslim sex traffickers among other wild conspiracies, but they kept breaking in and deleting it.
She called my wife one Sunday morning to tell us there was a snake (sounded like it was a black snake) in her house that she had trapped in the laundry room (with an outside door). My wife suggested calling an exterminator to get rid if it and plugging up any holes so it, or others, can't get in again. She replied that it was there because the drug lords put it there and there was no way it got in from her yard.
 
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I knew a guy named Mike that was tall and skinny. He looked like a tweeker but always denied it.
He made a fake hypodermic drug kit and kept it in his glove box under the stupid logic that if he was ever searched during a traffic stop, the cops would feel stupid during processing that their "collar" was not in possession of real drugs.
Sounds like a straight up tweaker. I bet if they did search his car there's a good chance they would find all our missing fender tags.
 
Mike had a Toyota and for no clear reason, he painted F O R D on the tailgate.
He had another woman break up with him and was pissed about it. Again, he asked if I had an un registered vehicle he could borrow for his vendetta.
New Years Eve 1997....He borrowed a truck to drive several towns over to this woman's house. His plan was to take a slingshot and blast out the windows in her car.
The storm of the year was brewing in Northern Ca that weekend but Mike had to get even with this woman.
As he hauled *** toward her place, wind and rain coming down in sheets, he began to think about how his actions would not only affect this EX but also her young daughter. It was the kid that would suffer the most since the ex had no other transportation and few friends to rely on.
Mike turned around and headed back home. Along the way, the truck started making some noise. The rods were knocking and oil was running out. The truck had oil leaks that weren't that easily detected since rain water was everywhere and light was dim. The engine conked out on a section of 2 lane roadway so Mike figured to park off the road a bit and sleep until it was light. The drivers window wouldn't stay up and the rain was coming in from the drivers side. The wind rattled the window until it was fully down. Mike cranked it up but within a few minutes, the wind had shaken the window enough to fall and allow rain and wind in to the truck. Mike could get no sleep this way. Wet, tired and frustrated, he wasn't sure what to do.
Off in the distance, he heard a train whistle. Mike lived near the train tracks so he figured he could just ride the train home. He knew that nobody would come rescue him on a stormy New Years eve night.
He ran alongside the moving train and was able to climb aboard, then found an empty car to lie in. He said that every few miles, it would stop for a half hour or more. He was almost asleep several times but didn't get much rest.
I got a call early on New Years Day asking for a ride. He had all he could take and was about 20 miles from his house.
I obliged and went to his aid. It was then that I got this full story.
The thing about Mike was that he was so messed up, he told me these stories with a straight face....hardly any regret or shame about how stupid his ideas were.
 
Not as crazy as most of these posts, but I had one friend in high school who had a 440 in a Model A Ford. Mounted the rear axle solid to the frame. Big ol' McCreary meats were all he had for rear suspension. Car actually drove okay in a straight line. I later heard that that guy ended up getting cut in half when he was rear-ended while pushing a car off a highway. Another friend from the same high school group must have thought the solid suspension was a good idea because he replaced his Road Runner's rear shocks with square tubing. He gave up on that idea in a hurry. Couldn't make it up my driveway that was on a hill with a hard turn at the top. Kept unloading the inside tire and all he could do was spin one tire.
 
So, what ever happened to the woman in post #1? Did the dead, rotting, lamb carcass on the hood of her car work? Did she come crawling back to him on her hands and knees begging for his forgiveness? It seems like that should work on most women... but, maybe some women just aren't into romance. :lol:
 
So, what ever happened to the woman in post #1? Did the dead, rotting, lamb carcass on the hood of her car work? Did she come crawling back to him on her hands and knees begging for his forgiveness? It seems like that should work on most women... but, maybe some women just aren't into romance. :lol:
It became food for thought ?
 
I don't know this guy very well, but he was cheated on a transaction once. I think it was wheels and tires. Anyway he saw the other dudes car parked outside of a bar. Sunroof was open part way. So he climbed up and took a dump in the guys car
 
So, what ever happened to the woman in post #1? Did the dead, rotting, lamb carcass on the hood of her car work? Did she come crawling back to him on her hands and knees begging for his forgiveness? It seems like that should work on most women... but, maybe some women just aren't into romance. :lol:
The guy had NO skills with women. He had a stuttering problem and didn't have much of an ability to talk about random things.
He was somewhat racist as well. He didn't like blacks or Asian people. He especially disliked Hispanics. He wrote a letter to the Mayor of Sacramento with a long rant about everything that he hated. It was typed in ALL CAPS and was chock full of terribly misspelled words, run-on sentences and horrible grammar mistakes. It make him look like a completely ignorant asshole. I told him that it needed to be corrected for them to take him seriously but he balked at that and mailed it out anyway.
He used to call me and start conversations about random things but then steer over to how Mexicans are taking over the construction trades. You could hear his blood pressure rise as he started talking faster and louder. I'd let him rant and then try to get off the phone. Finally, one day I had enough and told him that while I agreed with some of his complaints, I don't know what he expected me to do about it. I closed with saying that I'd prefer that he didn't talk about it every time that he called.
"Ill never bring it up again."
Those were the last words that he ever spoke to me.
I heard that he took in a 30 something Asian woman and that later he married her. I strongly suspect that she was a "Green Card" setup because he only ever seemed to like pale redhead women.
 
Donny Mobley, RIP, he was a year behind me. Complete wildman, tuff as hell.
Made it to 23,
Diving off a bridge into a hole in the river.
Missed his spot and ended up diving into about 2ft. of water.
Lived 3 days in ICU on a vent, died on the same month and day his dad had been killed in a car wreck 20 years previous.
In the short span he lived he is still remembered around here 40 plus years later.
Completely out of control but one hell of a good guy.
 
I had a good buddy we called Hollywood, Rod H.
I won't use his whole real name out of respect, typical jock type guy
god QB in HS, tore his knee up :blah:
he owned a Pizza place & a Togos, did very well for himself, young
had a great wife/life, nice house etc.
Always had nice fast cars, rigs & trailer & (AMA superbike rider) fast motorcycles
he did race a lot, a great rider too, best I knew, a lil' crazy also...

I think he knew he wouldn't live to 'an older age'...

We'd be drag racing/street racing out somewhere,
Concord, Walnut Creek, Antioch, Pittsburg, and lots of street racing back in the day
Sacramento/ElCamino rd. or out by Rancho Secco
or Fairfield (ball cannery rd.) near where he moved to, after he got married
(we never knew why he got married, he had so many 'truly hot ladies'
all the time hanging around at the circuts... I think he just got tired of the chase
)

anyhow
Hollywood would show up, always late...
See/ask whos racing or how fast & he'd line up next to them
or behind them, if not enough room
& race with them on his bikes, wheelie damn near or the whole way & farther
& often beat/pass them too... :realcrazy:
These were truly fast/street beasts, 10 or 9 second cars many times,
not just the typical 12-13 second squirrels, that claim to run 10s

He was the life of many a party, a guy just full of life,
a mild-mannered guy otherwise, a bit of a show off when someone did something,
he'd top it, all casual like... He'd make it look easy...
We'd have Monday night Football parties at my place
(I was still the only single guy with a killer place, pool, decks, b-ball court
big *** 5 car garage, 1 stall was the smoking room nice sectional couch
& a recliner & big screen tv (I didn't let people smoke/anything in the house)

& I had tolerant neighbors, that would come to the parties too)
every Monday night football season or not...
He was a bit of a daredevil, diving or jumping in my pool from the roof or upper deck
12'-15' away from the pool & 15' to 22' high, into 8' of water...

He died at a young age of/from cancer (39 IIRC), truly a damn shame...

Best & craziest rider I ever knew...
One of the nicest guys & most generous guys, you'd ever meet/know too...
 
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This is my buddy….”The Dude”. He is called The Dude because every sentence he starts, starts with “Dude”, usually followed by “you’re never gonna believe this”, which is about the only true statement he makes. He should’ve been famous, and for all of the advise I’ve given him, he would be. Had he started the “Dude 911” line I suggested years before reality TV was even a thing, he could’ve cashed in big time. “Press 1 for come on lines for hot chicks, press 2 for excuses for work”, and so on. Had his reality show “Dude, Watch my House” come to fruition, you would be looking at a bonefide TV star. Alas, Dude is his own worst enemy. Get a free Anderson door wall, install it in your chicks rented house, charge her $300 for the door and $300 for the installation to get a little ahead on his rent, then don’t show up to work for a month. Yep, he’s quite a piece of work, but he is our Dude, a Dude that can never be replaced.

His favorite saying?….”when I’m here, I’m awesome, when I’m not here, I’m still awesome, I’m just being awesome somewhere else”! Words to live by!

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