This is true:

About the same time in my life as my previous story, I was staying in a cabin on the edge of the woods about 60 kilometres distant from the turd-in-pocket incident. At this cabin we had an outhouse...in fact it was rather deluxe in that it had two seats...a "two holer" outhouse. Anyway, in that region it gets reallly cold in the winter...down to minus 30 C or even a bit colder at night. When you deposit your daily solid waste in the outhouse everyday it freezes...and the next day it freezes on top of what froze from the day before...and the next day...and the....and....eventually a tall column of fudgy brown ice develops in the abyss below and it slowly grows making its way directly towards the source feeding it....your a55hole!!! This tower of excrement is termed "the shitsicle". When the shitsicle gets tall enough it becomes a threat and you have to whack it with an ax if its a thick one or at least use a board or something to push it over....then the entire process begins again. The severity and length of winters past were classified as to whether it was a "two shitsicle" or a "three shitsicle" winter depending if it was cold enough and lasted long enough to spawn two or three of these towers.

Chownah's "This is True" story thread...... oh sorry, I'm in the wrong one. Where is Redrus anyways?

This is true:

About the same time in my life as my previous story, I was staying in a cabin on the edge of the woods about 60 kilometres distant from the turd-in-pocket incident. At this cabin we had an outhouse...in fact it was rather deluxe in that it had two seats...a "two holer" outhouse. Anyway, in that region it gets reallly cold in the winter...down to minus 30 C or even a bit colder at night. When you deposit your daily solid waste in the outhouse everyday it freezes...and the next day it freezes on top of what froze from the day before...and the next day...and the....and....eventually a tall column of fudgy brown ice develops in the abyss below and it slowly grows making its way directly towards the source feeding it....your a55hole!!! This tower of excrement is termed "the shitsicle". When the shitsicle gets tall enough it becomes a threat and you have to whack it with an ax if its a thick one or at least use a board or something to push it over....then the entire process begins again. The severity and length of winters past were classified as to whether it was a "two shitsicle" or a "three shitsicle" winter depending if it was cold enough and lasted long enough to spawn two or three of these towers.

I guess you have to be real careful about where you sit then......

Khall, Redrus is coming back soon... He's just gone off to find something crazy but true to write about....

We could all write about our harem's....They've all been virtually true....

and crazy... Then it'd be like reading within the reading...you know, like when you wawtch tv, and in the studio there is a screen showing the studio within a screen showing a studio within....etc....

ad infinitum....

This is true:

About the same time in my life as my previous story, I was staying in a cabin on the edge of the woods about 60 kilometres distant from the turd-in-pocket incident. At this cabin we had an outhouse...in fact it was rather deluxe in that it had two seats...a "two holer" outhouse. Anyway, in that region it gets reallly cold in the winter...down to minus 30 C or even a bit colder at night. When you deposit your daily solid waste in the outhouse everyday it freezes...and the next day it freezes on top of what froze from the day before...and the next day...and the....and....eventually a tall column of fudgy brown ice develops in the abyss below and it slowly grows making its way directly towards the source feeding it....your a55hole!!! This tower of excrement is termed "the shitsicle". When the shitsicle gets tall enough it becomes a threat and you have to whack it with an ax if its a thick one or at least use a board or something to push it over....then the entire process begins again. The severity and length of winters past were classified as to whether it was a "two shitsicle" or a "three shitsicle" winter depending if it was cold enough and lasted long enough to spawn two or three of these towers.

Thank you for sharing these amazing shit stories with us.

This is true:

A few years ago, when I was new to Thailand and everyday was an adventure I decided to rent a motorbike while I was in Nong Khai and travel up the Mekhong and stay AS CLOSE TO THE WATER AS POSSIBLE....of course I didn't mean to drag the motorbike through the edge of the water...I decided to take whatever path or road there was that was closest to the river. One nice thing was that I didn't need a map...at every intersection I just went to the right and that kept me along the river. It was a pleasant way to go. I got to see some regular Thai people doing regular Thai things which I had never seen before, being a newbie. I saw farmers working and someone making charcoal in a mud furnace and children playing...you get the picture. After I got out of town a ways I came to a big sign written in Thai and under the sign was one of those old wooden boats that they paddle in the races on the river on certain festival days. A really old man had a collection of simple hand tools and some pieces of wood which he was fashioning to replace one of the seats....I stopped to watch what he was doing. I watched for a while when I was kind of surprised to see a couple of men quietly struggling up the river bank each carrying a bale of dried vegetable material......I had stumbled onto a couple of drug smugglers!! They seemed a bit nervous when I sort of looked them over but I gave them my best "don't worry, I won't tell" smile and approached them they smiled and relaxed. I asked them (actually gestured mostly and used the few Thai words I knew) if they came across the river from Laos and they nodded "yes". They quickly dumped the bales in a waiting pickup truck which immediately left and they started back down to their boat which was tied up at the bottom...I followed them...all smiles. When we got to the bottom I pretended to get into the boat as a sort of joke and they indicated that they would take me over with them for two hours for 100 baht!!!....WOW!...how could I resist. I gestured for them to wait and went back up to the old man working on the boat....I gestured to him asking if he would watch the motorbike and my stuff....he smiled and gestured that he would....I still knew it was a big risk but the excitement of what lay ahead tempted me to take the risk with the rented motorbike.

Back down the hill, hand them the 100 baht, and off we go across the Mekhong. It was one of those low slung boats with the small longtail outfits on the back. They rocked it back and forth a few times and laughed to see if I was scared but I'm a good swimmer and probably the water wasn't over my head anyway. We got to the other side and hiked in a ways to their camp where they had some low slung tents where they lived and worked. They had a diesel motor which powered some equipment and I believe a small generator for lights. I think that the tents were low slung so that they were shorter than the bushes so that no one could see them from the river or if hiking close by. They had living quarter in the tents and there were probably two families living there working together including grandma and the kids. They offered me some water and we sat and tried to communicate...they kind of showed me how they produced their crop and how they got it ready to take across the river....drying racks and what not. After awhile Grandma let me know that her granddaughter (probably 10 or 11 years old) was eligible for marriage and we all laughed about that except for the girl who ran into the tent seemingly frightened to death. So after awhile they grabbed some fishing nets from their camp and we headed back to the river. One of them started fishing while the other one took me back to the Thai side of the river.....this was the first time that I had illegally entered a country...Laos...glad they didn't catch me especially with the company I was keeping!!!

Said good bye and thanks to the man who headed back immediately and up the bank I climbed. The old man had just finished his work and my bike was intact and unbothered...I smiled and waved to him as I rode away.

Did I forget to tell you that the drug they were smuggling was tobacco?

I like that story fella.....

Khall, thanks for thinkin of me but, I'm workin all the hours The Good Lord (whichever one) sends, for the long awaited adventure from Singapore to LOS and back.

I still lurke though Klown type fella..........

Keep the sories coming, I like I like.....

redrus

chok Dii! Russel

March 3, 2006

Berkeley, California

This week we made real progress in the war against hunting. It all started with my offhand remark to some Bambi-killing Neanderthal that I'd consider hunting to be a sport when the prey is also armed. Scooter overheard this and paid a visit to a friend who designs human prosthetics and had him adapt a brain-triggered mechanism that could be linked with a firearm, and voila, the Hunter-B-Gon™ was born! Just like the prosthetic hand that grips when signaled by the brain, this trigger mechanism is activated by a small probe in the part of the animal's brain that senses fear. Cool.

I went to the neighborhood pet store and purchased the largest rabbit they had. I named him "Fluffy." Scooter immediately started Fluffy on an intense training program by dressing as a hunter and scaring the crap out of him repeatedly. Once Fluffy was conditioned, our vet friend inserted the little probe into his brain and wired it to the featherweight Kel-Tec P3AT automatic pistol we had taped to his body. It worked perfectly, as every time hunter Scooter jumped at Fluffy, we would hear the "clicking" of the trigger mechanism. Die, hunter! We were ready to release Fluffy into a popular hunting spot outside of town.

In a spirit of fairness, we posted signs in the area that said, "Caution hunters! Animals in this area are armed, and if threatened, will shoot!" We figured this would turn back all but the stupid ones, and they probably deserved to get shot by an animal. Scooter double-checked the apparatus, brushed and fed Fluffy, then loaded the magazine into the gun.

Fluffy took two hops, turned, and shot Scooter in the knee! Oh crap! Apparently scared by the sound of gunfire, Fluffy then shot me in the ankle, shot our car, shot the sign, then shot Scooter (the genius) again, in the crotch. At this point I started clubbing Fluffy with a tree branch as the homicidal bunny fired off another shot which thankfully missed me, but hit Scooter once again, this time in the elbow. Danm, that bunny really had it in for Scooter! Finally I killed Fluffy, but not before he looked up at me with a twisted little grin accompanied by one last "click" of the trigger - thank God the gun was empty.

While Scooter's idea of arming innocent animals was brilliant, his assumption that they possess any kind of reasoning skills was not. As for Fluffy, well, he almost killed us both, and frankly I enjoyed clubbing the snot out of him. One unfortunate result of this whole episode is that Scooter has applied for a hunting license and I fear for rabbits everywhere. On the positive side, Fluffy probably did the world a favor by shooting off Scooter's testicles - knowing he can't reproduce gives me a certain amount of peace.

Eve’g all,

True story

Today I just read an article on the dangers of heavy drinking.

Scared the <deleted> out of me.

So that’s it, after today no more

Fukcing reading.

Yours truly,

Kan Win

BOONMEE - is that a crazy but TRUE story?

KANWIN- lay off the heaving reading, it can be dangerous to your health!

KanKolonel,

you had me worried for a second or two or three.

Anyway, just to add some drama, at around two in the morning, when I was quite warm and fuzzy in bed with elizabeth, Huge intolerable knocking, and shouting comes from outside the front gates.

When I have tried ignoring him and he won´t go away, I finally throw on some shorts (and my specs) and I go out to see what the hel.l and shut him the f8ck up.

It is a 60 year old heavily bearded regular customer (once or twice a month)... He is adamant that I am having after hours party - which I was not - and he was ABSOLUTELY OUT OF HIS MIND....

I eventually, with a lot of yelling, managed to get him to f.ck off, and got back to bed....

An hour or two passes and I´m happily dozing in an even happier ladies arms.... and there is a huge explosion like noise.

Before the noise has died I´m out there and he has just reversed his pick up truck through our fortress like doors, and smashed the rear of his car, and our gates,

(Look under the green logo sign, and where all the banners are hanging from, you can see we have rather large solid, strong wooden gates.)

a few tables and I was there when he opened the driver door to get out, and the man was a wreck, in even worse coked up drunk state then he had been earlier, and he came at me with a pistol, but I had the advantage as he was still getting out of the car, I slammed his arm on the door frame several times, hard, pointing his gun hand away,out on the street, and he eventually let go, and that clattered to the ground. (I later saw the safety was on)

He staggers out, and I`m yelling at this crazy son of a bit.ch "what TF do you think you are doing? Are you absolutely out of your mind, you crasy motherf/"%& ?" And so on and so forth. I push him, hard, out on the street and he falls, his head striking hte ground.

I get into the car and start trying to shift the automatic into neutral, thinking, I´m just gonna roll it off the entrance ramp, and let it glide out in the street... He get up, out of the corner of my eye.

He is coming at me, and his hand is going into a shoulder bag he is carrying.

I run around the open driver door and meet him before he can walk in the garden, and I grap his arm and twist it behind him, making him stand akwardly and I yell, "What the <deleted>.ck are you taking out of your bag?" Repeatedly.... He won´t let go of whatever it is, so I put my hand in, and twist him round a bit more, so he fall over. I have him pinned to the ground with his neck under knee, and I am trying to release his grip on some handle he is holding.... Evtually I tear the string bag apart, and I see the knife, with a 6inch serrated blade, and as I am prying his fingers off it, he is trying to speak, "I´m going to kill you!" I´m going to kill you!"...

I, in my rage, "I think I´d gathered that when you charged in here on your tank waving a gun at me, you crazy bastar.d!"

I shoved him, hard, out on the street again, and he went flying, literally. He bashed his head on the street again.

I went over to him, lying face down, with some blood dribbling from his crown. He wasn´t moving, but he was breathing regularly, and he was mumbling, still, about how he was going to kill me. I found his car keys in the remains of the string bag, and I got in, drove the truck out, and with a lot of heavy lifting and pulling -at four in the morning on a deserted street in a tourist capital- I am dragging a corpse like figure into the back seat.

I drive his car to a nearby beach road parking lot. I chuck the keys in his short pockets, put his wallet un the waistband in the small oif his back, and I walk back, barefoot and only in my shorts still, to the bar.

The Gates have been half smashed through beyond repair. Replacements I cannot afford at this time.

Two tables shattered, and there is a gun, a knive, my glasses, and I don´t want to know a thing. I stack five large tables infront of what is left of the gates, blocking any view. I try to jam them with chairs, so they won´t be moved too too easily. At least, they will make enough noise to get my attention, if anyone tries to get in again, and I go back up to the house, a hundred meter back.

The young lady has hidden herself in a loft, and was sitting there in total panic for a while. SHe recovered quickly, and instead of saying she wanted to go back to her hotel room (and her travelling girlfriend), she made me sit down, made me tea, sat me down and hugged me, and let me sit quietly and didn´t bother me and I was so glad to have that special person there, and so completeley there, if only for a night.ç.

Friend, lover sister wife..

Alas now she has left. And I am doing anything not to have a nervous brakedown. After the attacks of last week, and now this... life gets harder...

This is true:

Islamabad, Pakistan

With the understandable outrage over the blasphemous cartoons tearing apart the Middle East, I felt I had to lend my support to my Islamic brothers and sisters. I chose my friend Scooter to accompany me on a trip to Islamabad, Pakistan, where we were to join the locals in protesting western infidels who make a mockery of the religion of peace. Since Scooter has an art degree, I put him in charge of creating our signs while I contacted a friend with connections to the protest leaders. I also tried to get hold of Peace Mother Sheehan, but was told she was at the Cancun Club Med with Hugo Chavez - too bad, she loves this kind of thing. The next morning, we were on our way.

After arriving at Islamabad Airport, we were greeted by Mullah Abdul Haree Azcrak, one of the leading local religious leaders. I was shocked to see Scooter wearing a turban and what must be the fakiest beard ever. I can only assume Scooter was just trying to fit in, but he looked absolutely ridiculous. Anyway, Mullah Azcrak didn't seem to notice, and warmly thanked us for coming to show solidarity with them against the decadent Europeans. Up close, the old guy smelled like a sweat-soaked wheel of brie, aged in a porta-potty. After telling us where to meet them the next morning, he had a car take us to our hotel where we rested up for the big day.

We arrived in front of the Danish embassy early. Scooter had on one of those native nightshirt-type things called a salwar kameez, his turban, and that stupid beard. I had him assemble our signs while I went to pick up some of the assorted European flags they were handing out to burn. Scooter had also brought a U.S. flag from home, knowing it would be a real crowd favorite, once aflame.

Finally Al-Jazeera News showed up, and with cameras in place, the mullah started inciting the crowd using a bullhorn. I didn't know what he was saying, but it really got the locals worked up, as the whole crowd started jumping up and down while screaming and shooting guns into the air. Why can't our people learn to protest like this?

Scooter handed me my sign and it looked like something a two-year-old would make. It said "We (heart) Muhamed!" Not only did he misspell "Muhammad," the moron couldn't even make the heart right, it looked like a red trapezoid or something. I disposed if it and joined the noisy, sweaty mob. Taking my cue from others, I torched a Danish flag, then whacked it into little flaming bits with one of my sandals while yelling at the top of my lungs - it was great fun!

Everything was going well until my attention was drawn to an even greater disturbance beside me, and what sounded like my partner squealing like a pig getting a prostate exam! I looked around and saw Scooter, beard hanging from one ear, trying to shield himself from a flurry of sandals and fists with his sign, the obvious source of his problem. Unbelievably, it featured a picture of Jesus wearing a crudely pasted-on turban! Oh good God! The "Your #1" slogan under the picture apparently did little to placate the lunging jihadists as they attempted to tenderize Scooter with about a million smelly sandals. Also, the fact he was waving an American flag and a book of matches in the other hand probably didn't help much, either. The last I saw of him, they had wrapped him in the flag, set him on fire, and were using him as a battering ram on the embassy door.

Fortunately, the army arrived and saved Scooter, although he did come away with some nasty burns on his legs and a concussion. In my opinion, he deserved to die for being stupid enough to think he could pass off Jesus in a turban as the exalted prophet. I was this close to killing him myself.

The good news is the embassy was wrecked, about 100 little flags were burned, and Muhammad's honor restored. We're outa here.

Boon Mee has too much time on his hands in his floating low security facility.

Nice story Kayo. Do you think the idiot will aplogise and ask for his gun back ?

will he <deleted>.k... He, like so many others here, will spend his next social moments doing his best to blame me for every thing (good luck)...

I don´t think he´ll be out of bed for a week or so, though.

I don´t knwo what will happen next, but I shaññ undoubtedly find out, and hopefully I`ll be posting it here....

Sounds like this bar is more trouble than it's worth, Kayo. Maybe you should get another job.

Boon Mee, give it a rest, will ya? Okay, you don't like Muslim, we got it. Now, find some other gag.

Tone it down TBB... Kayo is working on another job -the GREAT NOVEL.... I'm, gonna buy a copy, hows about you?- but he needs to be a lay-about layman to gather the material.

Boonmee- I'm gonna prove you wrong about Muslims next week ( I hope!) - remind me and ..... watch this space!

Boon Mee, give it a rest, will ya? Okay, you don't like Muslim, we got it. Now, find some other gag.

Y'all have to admit, my little stories are entertaining - that's if you have a sense of humor...

Guess I've got to state it again - the only Muslims I have a problem with are the Islamofascists. The kind depicted below?

Muslim Rock Festival

The thread is about TRUE stories that happened to TV Members. This muslim crap and your redundant sense of humor has the rest of bedlam and the bearpit to play, so please post something DIFFERENT here.

I challenage you to spend a week in which you post nothing about muslims, war, Bush, and left-wing moonbats. You will either broaden your horizons or not be heard from.

Forgive me if I sound mad. I am not as mad as one might think, just annoyed that you, who I know to be smart and funny, insist on posting the same stuff over and over on every thread you visit. Contribute to the thread, don't hijack it.

I challenage you to spend a week in which you post nothing about muslims, war, Bush, and left-wing moonbats.

Go here ?

The thread is about TRUEstories that happened to TV Members. This muslim crap and your redundant sense of humor has the rest of bedlam and the bearpit to play, so please post something DIFFERENT here.

I challenage you to spend a week in which you post nothing about muslims, war, Bush, and left-wing moonbats. You will either broaden your horizons or not be heard from.

Forgive me if I sound mad. I am not as mad as one might think, just annoyed that you, who I know to be smart and funny, insist on posting the same stuff over and over on every thread you visit. Contribute to the thread, don't hijack it.

I have to agree with bops on this one boon. Wrong thread for this stuff. Don't be like my so called mates... ie> don't annoy those that do like you.

Please...

Bops... I'm talking over the email with my boss, who is still in Brazil, and we are looking at finishing up here in about two years, and closing it down.

Then we go to Florianopolis and do it right. Maktub' ar Brazil I like the sound of it. Maktub' ar Florianopolis...(clickthelink)

I have to agree with bops on this one boon. Wrong thread for this stuff. Don't be like my so called mates... ie> don't annoy those that do like you.

Then we go to Florianopolis and do it right. Maktub' ar Brazil I like the sound of it.

No sweat you guys - apologize for the so-called 'humor'!

Florianopolis, eh? I worked out of there back in '94 -'95. It's a beautiful area of Brazil.

A little cool in the winter but not too bad.

My absolute favorite spot is Forteleza - in the north.

Also, Bahia is nice - best Carnival and music in the entire country.

Cool...

Never knew about the island until my boss told me.

He claims that it is full of only the mostbeautiful women...

Jokingly, he added that the island don´t let ugly women on the island.

He was prob exagerating.

He just walked in... I´m gonna have a drink with him.

TBB,

I endorse this thread of yours. Does that mean my word is law....? If so Boonie, button it. When this thread was born it was born with the understanding there would be no polotics, humerous or otherwise.

Apologie accepted in advance....

Kayo, do us all a favour and get the <deleted> out of Dodge will ya.

I hope all are well, and I'll be with you all on a more than 20 min basis soon enough.

9 days to go.

redrus

Ps; Kan Win, top man I like your thinkin, keep on drinkin.

Boonmee- I'm gonna prove you wrong about Muslims next week ( I hope!) - remind me and ..... watch this space!

Sorry - off topic (again) here but I want to reply to khall62au on this subject:

What do the following things all have in common: coffee, chess, parachutes, cameras, windmills, the crankshaft and soap?

Answer: they were all invented by Arabs. .

A long time ago...

Boonmee- I'm gonna prove you wrong about Muslims next week ( I hope!) - remind me and ..... watch this space!

Sorry - off topic (again) here but I want to reply to khall62au on this subject:

What do the following things all have in common: coffee, chess, parachutes, cameras, windmills, the crankshaft and soap?

Answer: they were all invented by Arabs. .

A long time ago...

I thought, at last - wonders will never cease - a positive posting about our Muslim brothers from BM.

Until I saw the word "soap".

I was reminded there was a very curious omission from the article: Ibn Rushd Averroes, a Spanish (Andalusian) Arab who might have been the Thomas Aquinas of Islam—except that he was censored and persecuted by the caliphs. .

"That seems to be the current push from the Left these days: pushing Islamic inventions, and trying to show us how they really did invent everything, and their culture was so wonderful and advanced, how can we help but love it?

This is the same Left that derides American "materialism" and its "souless" technology, and often talks as if it wanted us all to retreat to the wild and live as hunter-gatherers. Islamic technology, however, is to be accepted as unequivacally good---whether it actually existed or not. The achievements of other religions and cultures: Hindu art, Christian philosophy, Buddhit sculpture, et al, is treated as nothing. The fact that Islam was at one time more technically advanced than the west is taken as the ultimate trump card. "They were superior to us in the Middle Ages, so the reasoning goes, and so they must still be respected (and superior?) today!"

The problems with this sort of reasoning are. . .

1. That was then. This is now. We live in the 21st Century, not the 8th. The Taj Mahal is a pretty building; how is admiring it going to help us deal with a nuclear Iran?

2. Other civilizations had achievements too. (Our educational system is so bad at this time, these are completely ignored).

3. . . . Furthermore, no matter how technologically advanced Islam may have been, does this excuse its cruelty towards other civilizations? (Many of which, as I pointed out above, had their own achievments and culture). The barbarity of the Islamic invasion of India, for instance, is horrible. We've seen, sadly, in the 20th Century, that cruelty can co-exist---nay, it can THRIVE---in conjunction with high technology. Can we really call a civilization that encouraged mass warfare, slavery and the subjugation of women "superior", even its architecture was pretty… "

But, but, I thought Juan Valdez invented coffee & Mohammed Al-Gore invented the Internet?

Sorry for going off-topic again, fellas...

[...]

Sorry for going off-topic again, fellas...

No you're not. If you can post a message and, in that same message, apologise for posting it you're not sorry at all.

agreed.. C´mon Boon, keep it out of here.

[...]

Sorry for going off-topic again, fellas...

No you're not. If you can post a message and, in that same message, apologise for posting it you're not sorry at all.

Good manners though!

This is true.

... I opened the book and it happened to open to the beginnning of a section entitled "An exact method for extracting cube roots manually." This chapter showed exactly how to perform this mathematical task. For about 20 years of my life I had wondered if it was possible to do this and my strange feeling that something was there for me that day directed me exactly and without delay to this long awaited information.

I did not buy the book. I did copy down the entire method on a small piece of paper and still have it tucked away in one of my long term stashes. Whenever I run across this small piece of paper with its bizarre instructions I still get an eerie feeling.

Yeah, but I bet you continued to use calculators