Wednesday, March 31, 2010

the stories

 

On March 31, 2010, I decided to finally go forward and make progress on a project Kiku and I had thought up back in Summer 2009 or so. I wanted to collect stories from strangers. Any story, doesn’t matter what. I’m thinking I might make a Zine or something like that out of them. I went onto Craigslist and set up this post:

 

I'll Make You a Sandwich - 19 (Ballard)

 

I've got tonight free. Just need someone to hang out with.

I'm 5' 3.5", 112 llbs.

Looking for a guy who will....

Ok.

Actually I want your stories. Send me an email and we can chat tonight. I want to hear your story. Any story. Your thoughts.

Stories of...

- You buying a pineapple
- The last girl being a....
- How awkward it is to see your parents
- Digging in the dirt as a child

Any story. One story.

Please consider sharing it with me.
I even added a picture.
How could you not want to share your picture with Optimus Prime?

Just shoot me an email. You have nothing to loose. And if you're bored and lonely enough to be on Craigslist, you must have the time to share your story and at least have some sort of human contact this evening. I'll write back. Certainly will.

 

I then included a picture of me with the Optimus Prime Helmet on.

 

Lame post, I know, but you do what you gotta do to get a story. I got 140 replies. Some are lame, asking me to text them or hang out. But some understood what I wanted – just a story. Some reveal how lonely they are. So many people are looking for love. The Optimus Prime helmet caugh the attention of many who liked writing to Optimus himself. I would just listen to their story. The following are the stories I got from that one ad I posted on Craigslist.

 

Enjoy.

 

hey! so... the most memorable time of me buying a pineapple is when i lived in hawaii. in the summer there are fruit stands along the north shore of hawaii you see, and when my family and i would go to the beach, i would buy a coconut and pineapple to eat/feed the fish with. we would use the core and go diving during low tide. this sticks out in my mind because it only really attracted sea turtles if they were around.

 

From Colby

clwood5071@gmail.com

 

I was working in LA in 98' for the Jim Henson Creature shop.  I was working preproduction on a film when my supervisor walked in and asked us if anyone was willing to do an AIDS bennie with Brian Henson.  Brian does Kermit the Frog's voice.  I raised my hand because I had not yet had an opportunity to work with the muppets.  Anyways, a few days later I am with Brian and another woman (another muppeteer) in the rehearsal hall at Raleigh Studios (Charlie Chaplin's original studio).  Brian and Susan are working with Kermit and I and doing "rod support" (I was a animatronic engineer so I was the tool guy).  We are about an hour into the rehearsal when Brian starts going way off script and starts telling us how much he likes to pork Miss Piggy.  He goes on and on about sweet and sour pork and he has Susan and I in stitches.  My childhood of watching Kermit on the Muppet Show was totally changed.....all because I personally saw and heard Kermit say "I would fuck that"

 

From Peter Bruce

adventpete@yahoo.com

 

The last pineapple I purchased was for some number of cents in Ecuador, in a little coastal town I visited for a few days.  I ate the entire thing while reading in a hammock.  It was sweet (pun shamelessly intended).

 

From Greg Hammond

hikergreg@yahoo.com

 

Back when I was a kid, I thought it would be cool to try and save some money (for once).  I also thought it would be cool to be a pirate...so...I decided to bury a bit of my savings in the front yard.  Not only that, but I got my siblings and friends in on it.  We had a "treasure" box filled with goodies.  Myself and my sister took care to make a map of the location and dig it up a year later.  Unfortunately, we never found it...till this day (dammit...it was a fortune).  Sometimes I wonder what it was we buried (it's been a while).  But yeah, that's it...I'll be signing autographs till Sunday...

 

Your writer....um...Ray,

 

P.S. yes we dug up the entire front lawn once and yes our parents blow a big-one... :(

 

From Ray

raysky01@gmail.com

 

I'll tell you a story. It actually is very recent too.  This weekend was a rather fun one for me.  I went on a road trip to California.  Palm springs to be exact.  It all started on Friday evening.  Well, I had already done my packing I suppose, but My friend Ben and his girlfriend Crystal showed up at 6 to start the journey.  I loaded up my junk in the trunk of Ben's 1971 Chevy Nova and we headed out.  Our first stop was in Auburn where Crystal was looking at buying a 1968 Pontiac GTO, she put a down payment on it and we headed out.  We drove till around midnight and then I took over driving and getting all the way to California buy about 5am.  We ate breakfast and I fell asleep in the back for the next part of the drive.  Around noon We were well into Cali and enjoying the sun.  We arrived in Palm Springs at 9pm having gotten lost once and stopping several times for gas.  We immediately jumped in the pool as it was still rather warm despite the sun having already set for the night.  The next morning we had our free breakfast and went to the Living Desert zoo nearby.  This is where it gets interesting. Ben found out Crystal had sent a naked picture of herself to another guy.  Right in the middle of the zoo he was yelling at her and even broke her phone in half.  Needless to say the rest of the day easily could have sucked, but they talked and talked and by midnight they were sorta lovey dovey again, but with conditions as far as I'm aware.  Ben and I went to this little pub and grill and had dinner and played pool while waiting for him to cool off.  We went swimming again that night and enjoyed a bottle of whiskey as we dozed off for the night.  The next morning it was time to head out.  We traveled home and made it in a mere 27 hours.  We experienced all sorts of weather on the way home.  Sun, rain, snow, and LOTS of clouds when we got back to Washington.  Anywho, I sorta summed up at the end as I realized I was going on and on and on.  The real morale of the story is to not make a road trip in a 1971 Nova that has wind flowing in and no heater and no A/C.  But I'm surprised it made it all the way down and back.  I suppose you'd like to see my picture too so here you go.  

 

From Chris Sheibel

crucibleofworlds@hotmail.com

 

Hmmmm. Stories huh. Well I'm 21, the last girl was a bitch. She used  me for money n fucked my bestfriend. Yep that's my story.

hm13usa@yahoo.com

 

Here is a story from when I was 9 years old and spending a week at Fort Flagler State Park on Marrowstone Island, not far from Port Townsend. I was using the outhouse up the trail from the old wharf a couple hundred yards. My family was at the wharf fishing and hanging out.

 

 

I had been focused on fishing most of the afternoon, so when I determined that I must leave the wharf to inspect the outhouse, my mission was clear: Finish quickly, and return quickly. I approached the outhouse, determined it was unoccupied, opened the spring-hinged door, and wasted no time. With my mission nearly completed, I had only to return to the wharf.

 

 

But the door wouldn't open. You see, outside the door was a rather small piece of wood--about 1" x 4" nailed in the center right next to the door. Why? Presumably to keep the door closed so animals wouldn't get in. When the spring-hinged door closed behind me, the piece of wood nailed outside next to the door swung across the door, preventing it from opening. I was locked in.

 

 

You might know how outhouses in late summer can become unfresh. This was the unfreshest ever! I called out to my parents--silence! I tried busting the door open, but my 79 pounds was insufficient. Argh! And I had no room to build up momentum, because even at that young age I knew that F=ma.

 

 

I yelled out again and again. Nothing! I calmed myself down. No panic attack. Did I hear somebody? I called out again. It was my father! I raised my voice. I heard him some distance away, "Where are you?"

 

 

 

"I'm in the outhouse! It locked me in!" I replied.

 

 

 

"Which one?" he asked.

 

 

Huh? This was the only one on this side of the park. How do I respond? "This one over here!"

 

 

"Where?"

 

 

"The one that is shaking!" I said as I bounced all 79 pounds off the left wall and then the right.

 

 

Then he opened the door. That first breath of fresh air was glorious as when I drowned when I was 5 years old and had a NDE, but that's another story.

 

 

Ha! It is all true. And Dad likes to tell that story now and then. He knew exactly where I was and was just having fun at my expense. Thankfully, I am not scarred from the experience.

 

From David

tolumas@gmail.com

 

So I am in Lexington, Kentucky in May of 2007 during the weekend of the Kentucky derby (I was there for work which was unrelated to the derby).  Anyway, the Queen of England came to Lexington for the derby that year (I think it was her first time in the US for over a decade too), so the whole city was abuzz with talk of the Queen and every building and fence was newly painted and beautiful.  I didn't meet the Queen, if that's what this story was sounding like, so sorry.

 

 

I am getting breakfast with my boss at a little cafe during a break.  We're chit chatting and sitting next to us was this old local man reading the newspaper.  In the middle of our conversation, and without looking over his paper, the man says "The Queen sure is ugly aint' she?"  Super thick Kentucky accent.  My boss and I look at each other, wondering "is he talking to us?"  We couldn't tell.  One of us makes a crack back at him, fearing that by being silent we'd be rude, and the guy takes this as an invitation to go into a ridiculously long (and hilarious) rant. 

 

 

The funny thing was is this man was smart and clearly not crazy.  We were across the street from the University of Kentucky, and it felt like there was a fair chance that he was a professor there.

 

 

He started by ranting about the Queen, then moved on to talking about how silly Prince William was to join the army, and then into a rant about how horrible President Bush was, telling us that when Bush was elected for his second term "It made a grown man cry."  The guy talked for over 10 minutes without any provocation from either of us.

 

 

After we finished our breakfast, we got up and left.

 

From Jeff

smilingjeffrey@gmail.com

 

I've got another one for you.

 

I work on Bainbridge Island part time.  As a result, I'm frequently BORED OUT OF MY MIND on the ferry.  

 

One day last summer, I'm coming home from Bainbridge, walking onto the ferry and there is a girl just acting really upset.  I ask her what is the matter.  She tells me that she's meeting friends in Seattle but forgot her phone at home and is worried she's going to miss a concert.  She seemed interesting, the ferry was going to be boring, so I asked if she'd like to use my phone as we sailed.  

 

She thanks me and agrees. Now, here's the funny part.  She remembered a few of the digits of her friend's phone number, but not all of them, and couldn't remember the order.  So she tries to dial it by dialing every possible number, writing down each attempt.  I have unlimited minutes, so I just allowed her to do so without explaining that, given her knowledge, there were THOUSANDS of possible numbers.

 

So as we're approaching the Seattle side, she tells me she's going to go to an internet cafe and try to myspace them.  She then, in the sweetest way possible, asks if I would walk her to the cafe, because it was getting dark and Seattle's waterfront is not exactly the safest place to be alone at night.  Of course I accepted.

 

We get to the internet cafe, she tries to myspace them, of course it doesn't work. She looks at me and says "what are you doing tonight?"  I say nothing.  She asks if I want to go to the concert with her. I kind of laugh and say that I'll bring her there, but that I don't want to pay for a show given I'd never heard of the band.  She claims she can get me in because she knows the band.

 

Now we're at a club in Seattle, I'm drunk (oh yeah, at the end of the day on Bainbridge a lawyer friend of mine was pouring scotch down my throat as we chatted it up....I'm 23....) and it's a techno show.  I'm TOTALLY out of my element, but was having a great time.  I think I figured out who takes those American Apparel mannequins seriously....

 

Turned out she knew the band.  We hung out for some time.  It was weird.

 

I cabbed home.  Never spoke to the girl again.  It was a great time.

 

From Jeff

smilingjeffrey@gmail.com

 

the last girl I met being my soulmate I fell in love with, but she broke my heart.

 

From TD

td_calendar@yahoo.com

 

None about buying a pineapple, but the safety word is pineapple. 

 

The last girl was yesterday  :(  She called to say, Oh did I forget to tell you I was moving to Portland?  Seemed to forget that minor detail when we started seeing each other a mere 6 weeks ago.  Oh well.

 

I love my parents, but they are going through some tough shit.  Seeing them is more sad then awkward

 

Digging in the dirt today as a child.  Digging in the dirt my whole 20's living as a child.  Digging in the dirt as a boy, smashing rocks, model rockets, riding bikes all day, fire!, fireworks, and going through childhood without tragedy.  That was nice.  I don't think people can do that anymore.

 

From D

zclimbs@hotmail.com

 

So I have this friend who recently moved out of state to go to college.  Being new, and at the same time being a little boy-crazy, she posted an ad on craigslist looking for guys who would be cool to hang out with.

 

 

She got over 100 responses.

 

 

After sifting through the emails she ended up meeting with about 8 different guys.  Of these guys, she started hanging out with one of them named Jason, and they soon started dating.  Everything was going great.  The only snag was that a month into their relationship a random girl named Jill started contacting my friend (who's name is Sara).  Jill was sending Sara Facebook messages and text messages, telling Sara that she needs to stop dating Jason.  Why?

 

 

Because Jill claimed that her and Jason were engaged and were going to get married.

 

 

My friend, obviously disturbed by this, told Jason what happened.  Jason told Sara that Jill was a psycho ex-girlfriend who stalks him and who always says crazy things to the girls he dates in order to scare the girls off.  He did everything he could to assure Sara that he was hers alone, and that Jill was just bitter and obsessed.

 

 

Over the next couple of this cycle would continue.  Jill would send messages to my friend asking her to stop dating Jason because she was his fiancee, then Jason would laugh the messages off and reassure Sara by showing affection.  Soon Sara would start telling people how crazy Jill was, and how she knew that Jill was lying.

 

 

Oopsie-doopsie.  I think you know where this is going.

 

 

One night Sara gets into a fight with Jason over a broken-down car.  Not long after the fight, Jill contacts Sara once again.  This time Sara tells Jill:

"You've never shown any proof that you and him are together.  You can see my Facebook pics showing me and Jason kissing, etc...  So show me some proof or shutup."

 

 

So Jill goes onto her webcam and calls up Jason while Sara watched.  Not long into the call Jason is telling Jill how he loves her and how special she is and how he is sorry that he recently hit her.

 

 

Heh.   After months of gullibility my friend finally realized the truth.  She immediately broke up with Jason.  Jill, however, is making hilarious posts on Facebook such as:

"I'm going to marry Jason.  I don't care what anybody thinks.  I especially don't care what my mother thinks!"

 

 

And her equally dumb friends respond with "That's right!  You have to live your own life and do what's right for you, nomatter what anybody thinks!".

 

 

 

 

So there it is.  Viva la craigslist - the matchmaker of the stars.

 

livinglegend@gmail.com

 

i had a dream...

 

 

i was lying in a hospital bed, outside, and in the shade of a fruit bearing tree. there was a nurse beside me that was barely paying attention to me. we were both watching children playing some weird version of baseball. there was a well manicured field, and everyone was in their proper positions. the only real difference was that there was a hologram in front of the batter. the ball wasn't thrown at the batter, but was part of the hologram. when he swung at it a real ball would fly out from somewhere.

 

 

i watched the kids play, i watched the nurse watch them, felt the warmth of the day, and smelled the sweetness in the cool breeze. then i looked at myself, i had a strange sort of rash. it was like salt water had evaporated, and just left the weird trails of salt. and there were tubes coming out of me everywhere. and on the inside of my left thigh there was a perfect square cut out, with a piece of plexiglass covering the hole. it was full of insects. spiders, ants, centipedes, huge ants, flies, giant ants. i could feel them crawling around in there. and i could see the meat of my leg, and the bone.

 

 

i was weak and a little hazy, but i managed to ask the nurse, "what is this for?" she responded, "this is what feeds them." then returned to the game. she had her legs crossed and was gently bouncing her foot. she had the warmest look to her. i was sure that i wasn't going to get anymore info out of her, and i didn't have the energy to try to ask anything else.

 

 

but i think that the tubes were extracting something from me that fueled the game we were watching, and the bugs made sure that whatever i was producing was still good. and the nurse was only there to make sure that it went well. that i remain healthy enough to produce, but weak enough to not resist.

 

tunacanman99@yahoo.com

 

So it was the night after Thanksgiving 4 yrs ago and I was full on leftovers of course. And my buddies Jurney and Brett call me ranting how they needed to borrow my truck or they need me to come with them immediately. They had previously gotten a call from our other homie Weston and he had told them that Zakk Wylde was stuck on top of Snoqualmie Pass on his tour bus.

 

So after they had explained what all of the turmoil was about I told them to come over and we can figure it out. They arrived and we started packing up a bunch leftovers to bring with us and then stopped at the store and bought 5 cases of beer to throw in the back of the truck. And the journey began....

 

So it was a freaking blizzard going up I-90 and just dumping snow. However, I absolutely love the snow and love driving in it with my truck. So we were hauling ass up the pass and could only see 20-30ft in front of us and I was kickin it sideways almost the whole way. I freaked out Brett and Jurney by getting a lil crazy and drifted about 40ft off the main tracks going thru the snow. I just laughed cuz they got scared lol.

 

So at this point we have probably drank 2 cases if beer on the way up ( I know I'm bad for drinking and driving, I don't do it anymore lol) and we were all feeling real good. We got to the top of the Pass and saw the tour bus parked in a big snow drift. We walked around the tour bus to see if we could here anything and we didn't so we started to explore the hotel there. We figured they would probably be partying like rock stars, and would be able to hear them. But we crept around the hotel and even got into some conference rooms trying to figure out the best stratergy to find the Wylde man....

 

We were all pretty hammered and didn't know what to do next since we didn't want to be caught being hammered lol. So we decided to stick it out till morning. Unfortunately my truck didn't have a working heater so 3 grown ass men tried to stay warm in the truck but it just didn't work. Brett ended up going to the public bathroom in the hotel to try to stay warm, while me and Jurney froze our asses off. With very little sleep we got moving and cracked some more beers and started thinking about breakfast.

 

Getting our bearings back after getting the blood flowing agian we noticed some of the guys from the tour bus were standing around. So we started talking to them and told them we had tickets to the show tomorrow but we heard they were stuck, so we wanted to bring leftover food and beer for everyone. They ended up buying us dinner and just ended up BSing for a while.

 

Finally after breakfast they let us on the tour bus just as Zakk was waking up. They told him we came to save his thanksgiving and he said that was badass. He handed us all beer and showed us the tour bus. He showed us all his guitars and the he pulled out a huge bag full of tranquilizer and steriods lol. Ah the life of a crazy musicain lol.

 

Soon we found out that they were going to be able to get the bus out and get on with the show that day. We ended up packin up our stuff and they gave us all backstage passes and a couple extra tickets to the show. We ended up following the down the pass in a convoy with a couple of tour buses and a couple of Toyota truck, mine being one of them. So we drove with them all the way to Seattle and helped the check into there hotel.

 

Later we went to the show and it was badass. Unfortunately they ended up canceling the backstage after show, so it ended there. But it was one of my favorite time ever!!!!

 

From James LauRae

jlaurae@yahoo.com

 

Hi my name is James I am 26 I live in the city of Snohomish. I got a story. It starts about 5 years ago I was working for the county parks department I was in the office at Flowinf Lake park when I person came in and said there was a big white goose attacking people and taking their food. I went down there and caught the big white goose that stood about 3 feet tall. its flight feathers had been pulled so it was obviously someones pet that they dumped off at the park. So I decided to take it home and name it Cleatus. Bad idea, that goose was soo loud and squacked every time anyone came near the house. It would also bite my friends (really hard too) he never bit me cause I fed him. Anyways I loved that goose and over the years we became very close until one day I noticed he stopped walking. after a few days he didn't get any better so I took him to the vet and she said he had a stroke :( I was devistated They say I could nurse him back to health but it wasn't looking good. within days he took a turn for the worse. I had to bring him inside and put him in the guest room. He also got really bad diarhea so I had to put him on a tarp. It was really gross. The vet told me to put a little wiskey in his water to ease pain and quiet him up. It started taking alot of wiskey to get him to shut up ( ironically he liked Wild Turkey brand wiskey). But I eventually had to put him down there was a tombstone in my yard that read R.I.P. Cleatus. I sold the house a year later and I think the new owners removed the tombstone. Anyways that was my sad but true story.

 

From James Hammeren

jamers4130@yahoo.com

 

 

I was working as a fisherman in the fall of 1948. The work was hard and the hours ungrateful. We docked in a small port on the coast of Turkey, a favorite of my captain’s. I heard the stories. You see, during my tenure of nine years on the ship, the crew never surpassed eight, and the small size allowed the old Turk and I to develop an unusual bond (a bond that-years later-would prove to be unshakable). Anyway, it was because of these stories that I turned down his offer of drinks and all the “shaka-shaka” I could want. He would not take no for an answer. Even at gun point. I conceded, but quietly left while he was ordering the second round. I wandered the streets, watching the husky mothers haggle over pieces of arid meat. They were beautiful. After a series of observations exhibiting my racist ignorance, I entered a small bath house. I paid what they wanted without question. My clothes were removed, and I proceeded to the sauna. The room was immovable and smelled of butter and fish. A half hour passed before I realized that the steam was nothing more than the manly humors of men before me. As I was leaving, I heard a faint voice ask me to stay. I turned around and realized that what I believed to be from ten men was perspired by no more than one man. This man. I agreed to the curious request with rare clarity. We sat for an uncountable amount of time, during of which I lived the life I wanted and laid comfortable in the ground. It was not long until he pulled me awake with the words that I would never forget: “You know, the beard is entering its twilight. I don’t think I can take another funeral. I just returned from France.”

 

From Daniel Mata

panhandlingexecutive@gmail.com

 

A story? Alright I have a story since you asked so politely.
 
It's around august or so I think I was in 5th or 6th grade my quadratical memory isn't always the greatest. Anyway summer was coming to a close and the days were still longer but I actually enjoyed dusk more than anything. I lived in a small house in a quiet neighborhood aside from the planes going overhead but I still considered it quiet.
 
Hanging out outside under the halflit night sky. I'd always get on top of my roof and just lie there looking up at the sky listening to the dogs barking cars honking people from other houses nearby talking. The kind of summer where you knew there was a whole world going on around you but at this moment none of that mattered.
 
BOOM! There was a loud explosion kind of rattled the ground and made all the dogs bark at once. I figured it might have been left over fireworks or homemade dynomite someone had cooked up. Couldn't see anything in sight so I didn't really care about it too much.
 
I jumped off my roof and began walking down the street to my friend's house, I was bored, it was summer still, parents didn't care where I was half the time. While I was walking I saw this car coming up in my opposite direction. I moved to the side, this car was going quite fast for a just a neighborhood drive. I kind of just stared not really thinking anything of it at the time. The car raced up the street and then whipped around the corner towards one of the busier roads.
 
When I got to my friend's house his mom said he was in the shower, he was actually much older than me but we hung out regardless. As I waited in his living room I saw that the news was on. I hated the news, guess it didn't help I was pretty young so I was always into spiderman and transformers. As I was looking for the channel changer I noticed something caught my eye on the tv. MANHUNT in big letters. It reminded me of the punisher or some cool game so I turned to watch it. They were saying this guy had been accused of kidnapping some woman and the house he supposedly lived in had been set on fire. I looked at it kind of disgusted like what kind of person could be driven to live like that. I shrugged and went to change the channel when they showed it, the car that he owned supposedly missing from his house was the very same that went speeding up my street. Wow I was shocked I told my friend's mom who was cooking at the time and we decided to call the
police. Next day I guess they caught the guy parked somewhere near where I lived behind some abandoned woods. They say they found the car first and then waited it out for him to get back and like an idiot I guess he did. Sorry if the story is a bit long and not very suspenseful but eh I remember that day like it was just last year haha anyway hope you got a semi kick out of that one.

 

From Matt

eightlivesleft@yahoo.com

 

one day when i was 15 and my friend who was driving was 16, decided to
drive around and find something to do so we drove all around, and then
finally gave up on finding something exciting to do. on the way home
we decided to do something daring and well he said go ahead, pull the
E-brake so i sure did! and we crashed way out in the country at about
11 at night so instead of staying and waiting for his parents he said
go get out of here so that way my parents will think it was just an
accident so i ran 11 miles home in the pitch black. end of story lol
oh and i'm 20 now so it wasn't like it was so long ago

From Nick Berkey

nberkey1@gmail.com

 

Not too long ago I decided to quit my job without giving notice.  After all, being there was always a choice.  It was Tuesday afternoon and instead of coming back to my office after lunch, I drove home.  My plan was to sleep in the next morning since I wasn't going to go to work.  Funny thing is, I forgot to disable my alarm and I woke up at five-thirty in the morning like any normal work day.
 
I hopped out of bed and jumped in the shower.  I brushed my teeth and shaved and threw on my best suit and was out the door with my briefcase and on my way to work.  I got about halfway to work before I realized that I had quit my job.  My first instinct was to turn around and head back home.  But I kept driving.
 
I was going East on I-90 and I was nearing Coeur D Alene, which wasn't unusual for me.  I had taken this route many times on road trips.  But still, it was outside of Spokane Valley where I worked, and I wasn't too familiar with the area.  I didn't care.  I was a free man.  I kept driving.
 
Now soon enough I realized that the scenery had changed from what I had seen in the past on road trips.  There were more trees and rolling hills--almost mountains.  A minute later I passed a sign that told me I was driving North on SR 95.  I'm not sure how I ended up on this highway, and I became a bit nervous.  I didn't have GPS at the time, and I hate being lost.  But I was in one of those moods where I felt like driving.  So I kept going.
 
About fifteen minutes passed and I somehow merged onto a narrow dirt road.  It appeared to be a one-way street and was very bumpy and full of potholes.  I was kind of intrigued by it, actually.  But after about a mile or so I started to feel nauseous from going over all the potholes.  Luckily, five minutes later I came to what looked to be some type of campground.  I pulled my car over and cut the engine and got out of the car.
 
I saw clothes hanging on clothes lines and a couple of fires burning.  Even some pots and pans lying on the ground.  But no other cars, and no other people in the immediate vicinity.
 
I began to walk down an embankment and I noticed a lama or something eating grass at the bottom of the hill.  When I got to the bottom of the hill, I could hear people making noise, but I couldn't tell where the noise was coming from.  I thought maybe there was a lake nearby or something and that people were swimming.  
 
Suddenly I felt a tap on my shoulder.  Startled, I spun around and there was the scariest looking person I had ever seen.  A super-old, skinny man with his shirt off, frizzy brown hair past his shoulders—and you have my word-this man had only three teeth in his mouth, if that many. 
 
The man got up in my face and began spitting profanities at me and asking me what I was doing on his land.  His breath was so foul I nearly gagged.  And before I could speak there were two other men and a couple of women and children surrounding me.
 
Next thing I know, I wake up in a bed, an old grey-haired woman sitting in a chair next to the bed with a cup of steaming brew in her hand.
 
She smiled at me.  "You're going to be all right," she said and put the cup to my lips.
 
The liquid was warm and salty, but didn't taste too disgusting.  I sat up.  "Where am I?" I asked.
 
"You tripped on a log, hit your head," the woman replied.  "But you'll be just fine after a couple days' rest."
 
"A couple days?" I said.  "No way.  I need to get out of here right now."  I sat up and began to get out of the bed.
 
She pushed me gently back onto the pillow.  "I don't think that is such a good idea, young man."
 
Just then the old man that had yelled at me earlier came into the cabin holding a dead, bloody animal that I'm guessing was a dog.  "We've got supper," he said.  "Get some grits on the oven."
 
The man left back out the door and the woman looked down at me.  "You just stay put and we'll have a good supper pretty soon."  She got up and went to the stove.
 
I waited till she wasn't looking and got out of bed and raced out of the house.  I didn't care enough to realize that I wasn't wearing any shoes.  I could hear my keys jingling in my pocket as I ran up the grass embankment, and I looked down to see the bulge of my wallet.  I was more than grateful that they had not emptied my pockets.
 
Surprisingly, nobody tried to stop me from leaving once I was outside.  I even ran past the nasty old man and he just spit and nodded his head.  When I got to my car I pulled the keys from my pocket faster than ever and peeled out of that place without looking back.
 
Ten minutes later I was stopped by a Bonners Ferry cop who asked me what I was doing in his town.  I told him I was just passing through.  Then I told him about the strange people I had met.  He just looked at me and said, "Son, I don't ever want to see you around here again."
 
I drove back home and went to work the next day.  I apologized to my boss for everything and told him that I valued my job immensely.
 
I have not taken any form of road trip since.

 

From Luke J Perrier III

chatwithluke@hotmail.com

 

Victor dreamt a variety of dreams at night. Sometimes he would dream about the future, and the specificity of the events that had happened in the dream repeated itself in reality many months to even years later. These dreams caused concerns because they felt so realistic. It blended an abundance of different paradigms so unlike from his current reality leaving him feeling adrift and lost, yet some dreams were precognitive enough to pay attention to. He researched the reason behind these dreams and why the mind came up with them. During his research he came across a theory that the mind is able to see into the future according to the theory that the universe may be a hologram, and in accordance to string theory, a multitude of alternate universes existing also. 

 

He was no longer focused on his dreams nocturnally, but those he were aware of during the day. The ones that came naturally to his mind and where felt he belonged, with bliss encompassing his body, as the burdening vanished.  Not much occurred during the day in his life. He was too quiet of a person to interact widely with people. Whenever confronted with conflict in the past, he would either ignore it, or became hostile and dealt against it without efficiency. 

 

There was wonder in his mind, pondering if where the path one leads depends upon the attitude towards others. In the passing of time, he grew out of his laziness. After a near death experience from a freak accident, it left him with ambition to lengthen his lifespan, thus entering the realm of science and engineering. 

 

"Victor, haven't you ever watched those vampire movies? Do you really want to live forever and see the ones you care about pass away?" said Annette. "Who says I was going to be the only one? You don't think I would give it to other people?" replied Victor. 

 

For the past several days, he felt a psychological hunger to succeed. So much so that it became a burdening on his body. His muscles ached, his mind throbbed, and his stomach burned. The hunger to succeed derived from his upbringing, his envy, and most importantly, his vision. What determines someone's idea or perception of what's realistic? His ramblings died out, and he realized you must approach everything with a sense to grow. His to do lists became more proficient, with solid results approaching. He wasn't satisfied with the life he saw others lived. He wanted more. "Time to carve...." Victor uttered in a whisper. 

 

"I know what I need, I know what skills are urgent.....the universe will be mine." His hunger grew once more, with the other side of the coin reminding him what sort of peace he was seeking. The mansion like white house on the hill of Queen Anne in Seattle he saw in his mind. Her smile bloomed at him, with the palette of her features displaying ethnically ambiguous beauty. He opened his eyes, "That's where I have to be....not in this time, space and place though." He closed his eyes once more. He saw a giant spaceship, with him looking in the mirror. His eyes glowed a bright blue, his physical features differed. He was taller, stronger, and he was no longer on his medicine. His muscles were toned, and he struck a metal wall and dented the metal six inches in. He opened his eyes, it all disappeared, but the plans to become what he saw when he closed his eyes were right before his computer screen. All the math, all the blueprints, all materials. 

 

From Victor

alphazone@hotmail.com

 

When my dads family lived in Stanwood we had a septic tank that
exploded. So of couse my dad had to dig up the yard and me (about 8)
and my brother (about 6) decided that since the yard was aready dirt
dad wouldn't mind if we dug a hole to the other side of the world in
the yard. So we worked on our hole for a couple of days and eveyday we
would use a larg piece of plywood to cover it up so just in case dad
didnt want us digging a hole in the yard he didnt have to know about
it. Well one day my stepmom called us in for lunch so I told my
brother to jump in the hole to see how deep it was and when he jumped
it it was over his head a bout 2 feet so I took the plywood that we
used to cover it and put it on top of the hole well he kept trying to
get out so I put some shovles of dirt on the plywood and ran in for
lunch. Whe I got inside mystep mom asked where my brother was and told
her, "he is in a hole in the yard" and went back to eating my lunch.
Well she really didn't like that so she grabbed me, drug me outside
and made me show her where my little brother was. He was fine just a
little scared and crying. So we got our asswoopin and ended up having
to cancel our plans of digging to china.

 

From Robert Curtin

shift62@hotmail.com

 

The rogue who let off the network chopper had it’s own hands full. It had to fly fast and low, to avoid the network radar screens. Overhead, the network had a covering force coming in fast. A couple of older jets (MiG27’s) and refurbished Russkie attack choppers were panting for vengence. Circling even higher was the AWAC plane, purchased off the government surplus runways. The government would do just about anything to make a buck. The AWAC had really good eyes, and it took more than a decent pilot and luck to escape.
 
The crew numbered only two in this particular rogue. They’d been released from prison quite a few years ago. Early on in their career, they’d traded stories and lovers, all in the name of fun. After a while, even hitting the food stores on Saturday mornings began to pale. They were bored. Successful, experienced, they even considered a double-side run with the networks. Sanity reeled them in, and they continued the routines of life as a rogue. Their logo? A pair of dentures within a white circle. The other crews fucked with them over the logo. “Eat me” was their call sign.
 
“Seeker alarm! Radar got us! Infrared detectors got us!” The AWACs used obsolete military laser and radar motion detectors; quite functional in this environment. “Decoy is out!” The rogue pilot, “Chief”, listened without comment. The elint engineer, a for-real engineer, called it off as she saw it. Didn’t need to be trained or reminded to do her job. She came straight out of the military, then went right into prison. She bit off her lover’s tool after he tried to shove it down her throat one drunken night. After biting off his tool, she sliced off his balls. Not really something to get a prison term over, but the dude bled to death. He was all tied up, after all. S&M crazies…the video she taped helped to pay for lawyer fees.
 
Chief flew the chopper low and fast, dodging between trees, buildings, whatever he could use to cover his ass. He had flown in Brazil, from the start, then landed his prison stay from killing too many on his own time. The judge and jury didn’t buy his excuse of “Gotta keep the tools of the trade sharp!”
 
The old chopper buckled under the strain. It wasn’t designed for such flying. The pilot had to reinforce the superstructure with steel beams and some stolen composite armour. The composite helped more than crews figured, and the boron-steel beams didn’t bend like paper under the gee-forces. That helped keep the bird in one piece.
 
“Stingers inbound!” The engineer was nervous but experienced. This was a night like most, tho complicated with being so far from their own covering force. Her fingers danced over the holographic system keyboard (stolen), setting up decoy elint signatures, chaff, and those radar balloons the stingers loved to chase. Haf a dozen radar stingers were coming in from all directions, tho. That’s why she was a bit nervous. She’d run simulations of this particular scenario but had never actually experienced it live. All her simulation attempts ended with the chopper glowing in the dark, an incandescent glow in the sky.
 
She tried something on a hunch. No time to think about it; she launched a handful of the bird’s radar stingers, transponders set to mirror the incoming detection signals. The stingers flew out and up into the sky, keeping close together.
 
The pilot was caught by surprise by this. He’d always kept a few radar stingers in reserve, just in case. The engineer launched all of them.
 
“Stingers flying true.” She calmed somewhat, as the screens showed the incoming stingers tracked their own. Decoys. Expensive but it’d save their asses. Within seconds, the incoming radar stingers merged with their own, several miles away from the old chopper. The explosion, however, was not what they expected. One of the incoming stingers was tipped with a small nuke. It happened from time to time. Not very big but with enough of a blast wave to knock down just about anything flying for ten miles around. They were considerably closer than ten miles to this burst.
 
The pilot instinctively dropped the chopper to the ground, heedless of the location. Neither was blinded by the burst; their goggles were instant-nite types, designed for nuclear situations. The pilot dropped the chopper to the ground, desperately looking for something solid to hide behind. There! That old apartment building… “Hold tight! Blast wave inbound!” The chopper sat on the ground, and the silent seconds counted away in their heads. Sooner than they expected, the shock wave hit.

 

From Larry C

larryc@northwest.com

 

I'll start with something pretty funny, a little childish though, but we were kids at the time. A bunch of friends and I went to an Olive Garden and the waitress started taking our orders. Of course they ask "Would you like a soup or salad" when they take your order, and one of my friends just stared blankly at her and said "Yes". The waitress returned his stare and laughed a little and asked again "Would you like a soup or salad?" He just said "Yes please". So the waitress was very confused at this and just asked "Would you like both?" And he stopped for a second and realized what he was doing then said he would like a salad, and the waitress was on her way out. We just laughed and asked him what the deal was and he said that he thought the waitress was trying to offer him a 'Super Salad'.
 
One time we went TP'ing (once again, we were kids), and the neighborhood watch was called on us, so they had their trucks driving all of the place with their lights on, and pretty soon a few cops started to show up. It's a very very long story, and we had a group of like 6-7 guys. We had parked a truck a few blocks from the house we TP'd as sort of a getaway, since the neighborhood watch isn't allowed to pull people over and such. But when the trucks started showing up, all of us had split into several directions, literally. Hiding in bushes, hopping over fences, and running across streets, it was hectic, and a tad bit scary. I won't go into detail (unless you want me to), but none of us got caught, but we certainly got chased lol  Some of them pulled off rambo-like manuevers too, like diving through sticker bushes, taking cover in a ditch, and trying to rendevous everyone via cellphone.

 

Both From Sachiko S

satsumasmile@live.com

 

one day my brother, neighbor kids, and myself were out in the vacant lot next to our houses. the company building the houses had dumped 4 or 5 large piles of dirt and we were determined to built a fort out of them. So we proceeded to burrow under these piles for days. eventually we had a pretty elaborate tunnel system. well one of the tunnels collapsed on a friend of mine and his neighbor right at that moment yelled out to us as he was stuck in a collapsed tunnel "Theres a bear coming" and bein little kids we freaked out and ran away leavin my buddy stuck in this hole for like 30mins and to this day he dosent like tunnels haha. true story.

 

From Dan Raymond

ddog50005@yahoo.com

 

anyway a story about me huh, well there's the time I pissed off everyone in my class because they found out I was an atheist. I don't mind people having religion but why is it so bad that I don't believe the same things they do. Anyway that's just some of the thoughts I had going through my head.

 

From Carlos Felix

agfc22@yahoo.com

 

Anyway, I do a lot of theatre, and when I was a freshman, I got cast in my first show during the fall, which was a musical revue type deal where we sing a bunch of different songs from different shows and some pop songs too. One of the songs was "Uptown Girl," and I was standing backstage during a performance watching the guys onstage sing. And there was this senior named Brad standing next to me. I didn't know him that well because I was shy and awkward and you know how it goes when you're a freshman. The guys onstage were singing really high, and one of them, this blond guy named Justin was singing a high D. Not sure if you read music but there are very few male voices who can sing that high. So, to make conversation and show my admiration, I leaned over to Brad, and I said: "Jeez, I can't believe he can sing that high with both of his testicles intact." It was mean, but you say stupid mean stuff sometimes. Especially when there's a big ass senior that you want to impress. Your talk tends to get a little tougher.

But Brad looks like I just slapped his grandmother. He looks at me, and says "what did you say?" I realized that I offended him and I said, "No, no disrespect meant, I just think it's incredible Justin can sing that high. Seriously, it's really cool."

And Brad just stares at me. He's a big guy, even taller than me (I'm 6'1") and he looks really angry. He stares a little longer, and kind of nods and says "okay" and walks away.

I had no idea why he reacted that way until 2 months later at a Christmas party at a mutual acquaintance's apartment. He was sitting in a chair telling the story of how he won his battle against cancer. The cancer? You guessed it. He had testicular cancer and had lost one testicle during his battle with it.

Talk about faux pas...I didn't say anything but just sipped my drink sheepishly. And that's probably the meanest (albeit unintentional) thing I've ever said to someone. Probably. I'm sure there's more, but not off the top of my head.

 

From Donny Vale

donny137@live.com

 

There once was an octopus who lived under the sea, like at the bottom of it. Some people don't know this but not all octopuses live in the sea and not all live at the bottom, some live like in the middle of it and they kind of just float around and hang out. Anyway this guy was a really big monster of an octopus I'm talking big, no I'm talking BIG, like, imagine something really big, OK now imagine something bigger! OK, now...imagine something gynourmously huge! Now add all three of those things together and multiply by five! The octopus I'm talking about wasn't quite that big, because that would be one huge octopus, I mean come on let's get real here, there's no such thing as an octopus that big.

So the octopus was swimming along the bottom of the sea and it spotted some lichen, you know, sea lichen. And it said "I'm hungry" (bet you didn't know octopuses could talk). OK so it goes up to the lichen and eats it. Alright then a couple of minutes later it says "I'm bored" and decides to go for a swim, which isn't as interesting as it sounds because he's basically swimming all day long when he's not resting on the sea floor or just floating motionless in the ocean (which some could argue is a kind of sedentary swimming). Then a couple minutes later he says I'm tired and he takes a nap. And so goes a day in the life of an octopus.

OK the next day a big shark comes along, bigger even than the octopus and that's saying something! And the shark goes "I'm hungry" and he goes to eat the octopus and he puts his jaws around the octopus but the octopus reacts with alacrity, he's like, "no Mr. Shark you will not eat me" and he starts thrashing his tentacles at the shark and pushing him away. Well it was an epic battle and I won't go into the details but it ended with the octopus losing one of his arms and the shark also had some serious damage as well. Shit is crazy.

Alright now this story has kind of a sad ending and I'm warning you right now in case you want to stop reading or just take a little break before reaching the shattering emotional climax of the story that's coming up. You also might just want to prepare yourself, like grab some napkins or kleenex in case you start crying and need to blow your nose. I definitely recommend kleenex and it can be generic brand doesn't matter, see the important thing to know is that if you blow your nose with napkins or worse paper towels (you probably know this) it can lead to serious chafing. That ain't cool.

OK so basically what happens is the octopus goes back to his octopus family and they see how he's messed up looking because he's missing one of his octopus arms from the shark fight and they abandon him! They reject him and leave him all by his lonesome self! I know, you're thinking "how cruel, I didn't know octopuses could be so cruel" well it's true they really can be. Anyway the octopus just kind of swims around the ocean and has days similar to the one described above in paragraph two, and then eventually it dies, some say of a broken heart.

 

From Jake Sanders

pharoahsanders@hotmail.com

 

So I will start with my story which is a pretty funny one and maybe you'll want to hear the rest. I lost my virginity at a christian camp, and there is more. didn't quite get away with it!

 

socerby1@comcast.net

 

I went to Hawaii, planning on being there for about 3 months and after the first day I realized my place was infested with mice....I used everything, traps, Decon, you name it....by the end of the trip they were running around like cartoon mice and we got used to them.  They were even bad on the roads at night, being able to drive over them without even trying on the freeway, gross....overall we caught over 60 mice and it was creepy.. I still get shivers thinking about it!

 

From Moghan Lyon

MLyon13@aol.com

 

Want a good story?  The one about my cousins and friends growing up? 

 

I grew up in two countries, here and there.  My parents would pack up and leave for this place every summer.  I'd spent the rest of the time with my relatives running around in shorts and sandals like the rest of the crew.  We'd go over to the neighbors and eat green mangoes with dipping sauce in their yard, go spear fishing for dinner, run away from the local stray dogs. 

 

That was the fun part.

 

The part that sucked was the summer school that my parents put me in, so I can learn things in the local language.  Hated it.  With a white hot hatred reserved only for your worst enemy. 

 

Well, that was it about the school.  Did have some good times there.

 

Back to the story.  I was 14, we were to leave for the States in two days.  My cousin and his friends decided to go out that night and do some spear fishing.  The "spear" was a lenght of bamboo with 4 to 6 sharpened bicycle spokes lashed to the end with a bike inner tube and twine.  The spokes were kept sharpened by rubbing the ends on a broken whetstone.  The spokes were tetanus central.  We set out that night with really questionable gear.  A flashlight older than us by decades.  It may have been used by the British troops during their Malaya campaign, the batteries are newer though, maybe Vietnam War surplus.  We supplement the half-candlepower brightness of the flashlight with a carbide lamp.  Bad idea.  Carbide lamp is finicky, especially if there's a chance of air movement, like a breeze.  Or breathing.  It was a cloudy, moon lit night.  We decided to go out near the village cemetary because no one goes there.  Superstition still reign supreme there.  The cloud occasionally obscured the moon and the shadows looked like it started to dance because the carbide lamp (note the singular) flickered.  At that point, we'd crowd around the lamp the guy with the fish spear would get pushed out front because he's the one with the longest range weapon.  The cloud parted, we moved back to our normal positions, the laughing and the joking resumed.  We got ourselves to the edge of the river near the cemetary, which was another 100 feet down the river.  We stayed far away because various stories from the grown ups about ghouls and ghosts gave us some fear about the place.  This time, a man died elsewhere but since his relatives were locals he was cremated there.  It was a Buddhist funeral.  They put his coffin on a pyre and lit the whole thing on fire.  That was preceded by a wake where everyone was drunk.  We walked around to the shallow part of the river.  The river spread out at one point so that a man was tapping it by digging a canal so that it'll water his property.  It was shallow enough for catfish and other freshwater fish.  We waded in.  Using the carbide lamp and the flashlight for illumination.  We waded around so much that the silt obscured the slightly sandy bottom.  We stopped for a bit to let the silt settle.  Most of us keep glancing at the cemetary, you never know what's lurking there.  At one point, one of the dudes thought that he saw a catfish so he speared it. It wasn't.  My cousin was speared through the foot.  The blood curdling scream caused one of the guys who was "using the facilities" in the nearby bush to jump and dropped the flashlight into the river.  He ran back towards us.  The shadow of the guy running towards us looked very ghoulish in themoonlight and the flickering carbide lamp so we panicked and ran.  My cousin, with the spear in his foot, was still screaming in pain.  We ran because we thought the ghouls from the cemetary were coming for our livers (apparently they like fresh human livers, according to our uncles and grandparents).  We ran to the nearest house and tried to get inside.  This was in an area where flooding is frequent so we had to run up these wooden stairs in the dark.  Eventually we managed to stop panicking long enough to say some thing like.."help..ghost...got Lim (my cousin)...help...he's out there...".  Of course, Lim was still out there moaning and screaming because of the spear in his foot.  We got two of the older guys to go back with us with real flashlights and a machete.  By the time we got back, Lim managed to crawl a little ways back to the main trail back to the village.  We heard him whimpering in the bushes on the side of the road before we can see him.  Everyone froze. We followed the whimpering with the flashlight and saw Lim covered in mud and bleeding from his right foot.  At least two of the guys screamed.  They thought they saw a ghost.  We carried Lim back to the house with the spokes still in his foot.  The spear shaft was cut off as we tried to make a makeshift litter like in the Boy Scout's Handbook.  We sucked as scouts.

 

Lim is now known as "Right footer Lim".  We all now have good flashlights and fresh batteries where ever we go.

 

One of us now tells the younger cousins about the time a ghoul tried to eat Lim's liver.

 

 

From Sean Magus

sean.magus@yahoo.com

 

In 2004, I went with a state band to Europe. We were in Switzerland and attended a fondue party where they served us ice tea. The ice tea wasn't ice tea that we were used to. It was alcoholic. We had a lot of fun during the party (polka'd, danced, etc.). After the party, a few of us went to a bar where we just sat and talked. Ended up playing truth or dare. I was dared to shave my eyebrows in different shapes. Later, when I got to the hotel, I put a lightning bolt in my left eyebrow and tiger stripes in my right. They didn't grow back until after school pictures were taken the next fall. To say the least, it was embarassing, but I regret nothing.

 

From Chris Cammel

c_cammel@hotmail.com

 

Growing up I was very quite and shy. I also had trouble in school, I usually attribute that to mental abuse my mother and her boyfriends afflicted me with. My mother's boyfriends did alot of drugs and things like that. I never did them myself though. The reason for that is most likely because from about 7th to 12th grade I was Christian, not your average Christian though. I knew a great deal of Christian theology and philosophy. I read the Bible alot. But I always battled myself with Christianity, I would fall from it, turn to it, etc...
 
   I converted to an online program Senior year with the hopes of finishing earilier, I was unsuccessful and now have no High School Diploma. This fact is overwhelmingly shameful, I hoped that since I got a job I would feel less ashamed. I can blame the mental abuse, or emotional instability of my household for my current disposition, but that would not justify it.
 
   I tend to talk more articulately on email since I was studying alot of apologetics (defense of the Christian faith), molecular biology and philosophy and utilizing that against athiests on myspace.
 
  Currently, I am the furthest I have ever been from Christianity. My main premise is philisophical...
 
  Now that you have me thinking about it, I'm quite a complex individual, I can't seem to accurately explain my emotions... heh sorry
 
  Well... I'm hoping to hit a 4 year soon, I've saved 4k in the bank so far I'm 18 so that isn't too bad.
 
  I don't talk like this in person... I recently picked up guitar, I can finger pick pretty good. I've been frustrated with finances since now that I have to mediate my own money I tend to spend less. My friends always get me to spend on them though... I've always been that way...
 
  At this point I find myself worried about your reaction to all this, I'm sure it will be negative since the fact I am telling you these personal things is very odd... I mean these are things a normal person wouldn't tell someone they didn't know. So you have good reason to question the eccintricity of me... Point is I was wondering if I should delete all this and write something charming and clever as to increase the chance of you finding me appealing as a person.
 
   But what good would that do, in the unlikely occasion where you were to find my clever and charming response to your ad AMAZING enough to actually want to be in a sort of relationship with me I would have started it with a lie as to who I am.
 
   It doesn't really matter either way though, see my love life hasn't been all that amazing so far. I've had one girlfriend and that was only for a week during sophmore year. I'm a virgin also, it's a funny thing that now a' days you can actually be made to feel shame because of that.
 
   Well, I'm sure I've done as much damage as possible. This is the first time I've done this, I suppose you should be flattered. If you aren't well at least I am since you have read this far.
 
   I hope at the very least I have provided a bit of entertainment to your night.
 
   It feels good to be honest.

 

From Jordan Keller

jordank91@live.com

 

so it was kinda a waste of money ecept we cut the top off and put it in the ground just like a carrot but a pinapple will grow into a complete pineapple plant as a carrot will just grow green leaves.and if you paint the sunset cloud transition in friday harbor was a good meditation enjoy life

 

From Kris Warfel

kriskw@rockisland.com

 

So it was a casual wensday evening and everything was going right. Then all of a sudden out of the darkness I started to wonder, what is the meaning of life? As i strolled to the computer i reasted my wiery legs and took in a deep gasp. Rubbing my hands on my face wondering as where my life has gone i slowly switch on the screen and listen to some of the best songs ever written and enjoy the relief of another day done. Life has its single servings of everything. From food, as i stroll to once again mumble to the microwave to heat up another tv dinner to be enjoyed alone. I put the timer to three minutes and walk to the bathroom. As i look into the mirror i gazed and wonder of the man i had become.

 

From Nathan Briede

nbriede@gmail.com

 

When I was three years old, I had the worst nightmare of my entire life. I saw Grover (from Sesame Street of course, you better have known that) staring into my eyes while being burned alive at the stake. Around him stood a dozen or so Muppets wearing hooded robes which ran all the way to the ground. The cult of Muppets was chanting some evil incantation at Grover. And he stared into my effing eyes. I was THREE. WTF was I watching those days to put those images in my head???

 

From Thomas Kitchen

tomkitchen@gmail.com

 

My ex was being a bitch alright.  But it would unfair to hear from one side and it's best if I don't think about her anymore.

Well, I just got out of work 30 minutes ago.  And I'm a bit upset, well, more like frustrated. I work at UPS part time to pay for school.  To get to the point, I just found out that this girl who just got hired only a few months ago got promoted to be a supervisor.  To say that it's ridiculous is a bit of an understatement.   I've worked there for almost 2 year, most of the supervisors there actually encourage me to apply for the position, so I did.  I was told there was no position available right now and I would have to wait.  I was like...okay...I'll wait, I'm not in a hurry just let me know.   This tonight, this girl walked around with a radio (everyone supervisor has one),  I was like, what the eff? 

To say that she's dumb would be rude because it's only my opinion, but ALMOST everyone that works there doesn't like her.  One supervisor was also shocked to find out she's got promoted.  Her character would be someone who thinks she knows everything and stuck up to the boss.

 

vireak@gmail.com

 

As for my story I was about 10......

 

Digging in the dirt as a younster, thinking I knew everything....

 

I was at my friends house with my brother and another friend riding our bmx bikes and building jumps.  We were playing cowboys and indians and using our bikes as horses.  The jumps we built just weren't big enough and we were getting bored.  My friends house was on a hill above their farm and we were riding on the dirt trails.  In the middle of the trail was a big round rock and we just couldn't get our ramp of plywood to balance on it to make a good jump, so me knowing everything decided that we needed to dig it out.  So we searched through the garage and got shovels and picks, thinking we could dig it out and use the hole to put the ramp in....this was my idea.  So we started digging, and sweating and digging some more.  Now about 2 hours into it i decided that I was big and strong and could lift the rock out with my hands.  I said "I got it", thinking that was enough for them to stop stabbing the hard ground with the shovels, me thinking I was superman or something, the rock weighed about 200LBS.  So just after I said I got it I reached down to roll the rock out, as my friend stabbed at the ground under the rock, just where I had put my hand.  Couldn't have bee worse timing, for my hand, as the shovel sheared off 3 of my fingernails and part of the tips of my finger.  We were all scared that we would get in trouble because we didn't ask to use the tools, and we took some of his dads nice tools that he wouldn't have let us use.  So we ran inside, me bleeding like crazy and went into the kitchen.  Put my hand in the sink, tried ice, now that hurt like hell.  We grabbed towels and made a huge mess of the kitchen.  Just as we thought we had gotten away with it, in came his mom.  She knew we were up to something and I think I looked the most guilty, well and probably the most in pain....lol  She grabbed my arm and asked what happened, I said I cut my finger, she took the towel off my hand and gasped.  She said you did more than cut it.  So she got bandages and put aloe vera on it which stung like crazy.  Then we got the big lecture of why we don't use adults tools without supervision.  And the funny thing is we didn't really get in much trouble.  We went back outside and got the rock out and rolled it down the hill.  I got to sit and watch the other guys hit the big jump that was my idea....while I sat with a big bandage and ice pack on my hand.  The good part is that my fingernails grew back......

 

From Eddie Smith

s_eddie_80@yahoo.com

 

hows about yesterdays. im a truck driver and I got cut off and slide across 3 lanes of traffic on I-90

 

From Tyler Mitchell

tylermitchell20@msn.com

 

So, my friend, here is the story of my dating life.

 

Alright, so to start off, let me just say that I come from a somewhat disfunctional family.  My father was abusive, controlling, and just in general a selfish person.  My mother was somewhat neglectful, but besides that she was always nice.  However the biggest problem with my family was the absence of love.  For a long time I didn't even know what love is.  I've never heard my mom tell me that she loves me, and I'm 22 now.  I've probably gotten like 8 hugs from my mom in the last 16 years.  Knowing this will make understanding everything else a little easier.

 

So I'm a romantic.  I have always longed for a deep, overwhelming, all-consuming love that would fulfill me.  The funny thing is, I started thinking about this when I was less than 10 years old.  And of course I wasn't getting any girls at that age, but I had crushes...oh goodness.  Anyways though, I never had the courage to tell a girl how I really felt so I never had a girlfriend until....  Alright...so here is where the story gets interesting.  Again, let me remind myself that I'm going to keep this short.  I started using the internet when I was about 11 or 12.  I used AIM (AOL Instant Messenger) and found random chat rooms and talked to random girls.  To me it was the most amazing thing in the world.  I could say what was on my mind without feeling the normal fear I felt face to face.  Anyways though, long story short, I chatted with A TON of girls, and alot of them somehow fell in love with me (according to them).  But I didn't believe in internet relationships so nothing ever REALLY happened.  I mean when I was 13 there were some girls that I technically "cybered" with on a semi-regular basis but haha, whatever. 

 

Anyways though, when I was 14 One of the girls I was talking to online was actually really..really amazing.  Like I couldn't wait to talk to her every day, she was just great.  For the first time I though I had found something close to "love"  cuz I really really couldn't get enough of this girl, and I cared for her so much.  She ended up becoming my first girlfriend.  We would talk alot, about anything and everything, and we would call up each other and have out naughty little phone sex...but I never actually got to meet her.  We broke up after she cheated on me.  I was so heart broken.  It had lasted 6 months, and afterwards I swore off girls for a long time.   

 

Next chapter, 2 years later when I'm 16.  I become best friends with this girl that I have a huuuuge crush on.  I planned to ask her to be my girlfriend after I we went to prom together.  However when I asked her to prom...she got asked EARLIER that same day by a guy that ended up becoming her boyfriend.  Like seriously, what the eff.  This was an important point in my life though.  I had kept contact with like 3 or 4 girls from my childhood chatting days.  These girls were girls that never did anything naughty and never liked me or anything, we were just friends.  One of these girls helped me alot through this time.  She talked to me when I was all depressed, she even helped me come up with a way to ask my friend to prom beforehand!  This girl...ended up becoming the most important girl in my life.  Her name was Melonie.

 

Chapter Melonie.  Melonie was similar to my first girlfriend: gorgeous, kind, funny, sweet, and most of all caring.  The summer after my senior year of highschool Melonie and I talked a whole bunch, we became best friends.  However, even though I started liking this girl, and I knew that she was REALLY into me, I told myself I would never ever do the internet/long distance relationship again.  So I started college..and about 1 month into it I realized that there was no other person in this world that I cared about more than Melonie.  And when I realized that, I realized how stupid it was that I was keeping myself from being with her just because she lives far away.  Anyways Melonie became my girlfriend, and we had a wonderful 2 years of a great relationship.  I talked to her probably 4-6 hours per day.  This lasted until after my sophomore year of college.  I never had a car (or money), so I could never go see her.  So after 2 years of the most amazing relationship of my life, one where I can without a doubt say that I've experienced true love, I lose the girl I love.  Melonie died when I was 20...and it was the hardest thing I ever had to go through.  What made it even harder is that I kept her a secret from EVERYONE because I know how judgemental ppl can be about that type of stuff ("Internet relationships").  So I secretly grieved for a long time.  Honestly, to this day I haven't looked at a picture of Melonie cuz I think I will just break down and cry.  I cry for her alot still.  A-lot...

 

After Melonie died I decided that I should become a better person.  I wanted to be more like her: an open and caring individual.  I started actually giving hugs to ppl (I never ever ever hugged anyone before and I didn't want to hug anyone besides Melonie).  I started trying to be more outgoing and friendly.  I wanted to honor her memory in knowing that she made an impact on me as a person, which she did.  Anyways Going into my junior year of college I actually got braces, and decided it's fine because I needed a break from girls anyways.  I just got those braces off like 4 or 5 months ago and I'm finally ready to get out into the dating world.  But I'm faced with all of these problems.  Here I am 22, with this secret relationship history that I can't really tell any girl that I want to date, and I've never even been kissed/kissed a girl.  Don't get me wrong, I'm a good looking guy and I'm not overweight or anything, I just don't have the experience that any 22 year old guy should have.

 

I'm starting a new chapter in my life right now.  After losing the love of my life...and after getting screwed by my first girl I am not trying to go straight for the romantic picture perfect relationship that I've always wanted.  In fact I just need experience, because I don't even feel like I can make a move on a girl.  If I KNEW a girl wanted me to make a move then I could but I can't interpret signals, and now I'm hella scared that if I do try to kiss a girl I'm gunna do it wrong and scare her off.  It really sucks.  I've been looking for a girl to teach me how to kiss.  Without much luck, haha.  So I kind of gave up on that.  However, a month ago I posted a CL ad, and this really great girl responded.  We met like 2 days later and I've gone out with her 3 times.  The thing is I'm so "nice" and non-aggressive that I feel like she may just be seeing me as a friend.  I am scared to kiss her cuz I don't know how, and she might not want it.  I am scared to talk to her about what she is thinking.  I am trying really hard to be honest all the time, but it is so much harder than it sounds!  I want to tell her that she is beautiful.  I want to tell her I wanna kiss her.  I wanna tell her that I've never kissed a girl.  But gosh, how does somebody react to that?  I don't know.  Anyways, sorry, I tried to make it short.  But that was a really COMPACT version of my dating life.  I had to leave out alot to make sure that this stayed a semi-reasonable length.  Honestly I could probably write 10X this much on just my two girlfriends.  But yeah.  Ever hear of somebody in my situation? 

 

Oh and I started off with my family because I think that's the reason why I was so drawn to chatting to girls online.  I had never had anybody convey feelings towards me except anger really.  Not to mention my stunted intimacy growth since I never really hugged anybody until I was 14 or 15.  Well I hope this all makes sense, and congratulations for making it to the end!

Oh and my first girlfriend became my facebook friend and now she's a model...great!

 

From Adam Brony

klluver@yahoo.com

 

Hello my name is Kohl. In my calculus class we were talking about applied optimization, as you may or may not know a derivative is often called f prime. A guy in class asked the teacher since we are deriving functions of optimization is instead f prime it would be optimus prime. The teacher laughed a good 5 minutes before finishing the problem. 

 

From Kohl Gill

kohl.gill@yahoo.com

 

One time in the summer of 2003, I had gone to Newport News, Virginia to spend a few months just to get away from crap at home. On one day in particular, I had heard there was a store a few blocks away that I had only heard about on tv and in movies, and I was 16 so it seemed really awesome in my uneventful life. It was called 7-Eleven, and they had mocha slushies. Seeing as this store was off base and my aunt's house was on Langley Air Force Base, and I wasn't her child, I had no way of getting back onto the base without military ID. I decided I was 16 years old and it was time to jump a fence for the first time. So here goes a chubby kid in Bugle Boy jeans (my favorite pair) hopping a fence onto the largest military base on the east coast. Long story short, as I was going over, i had done a 180 degree spin to get my legs over, and all this accomplished was twisting the crotch of my jeans and getting it stuck in the chain link. I fought to free myself for the better part of two minutes when my pants ripped wide open from the bottom. Next thing I knew i was dangling over one side of this fence with my boxers in plain sight to the entire neighborhood. After hanging there for what must have been 20 minutes, I managed to get down with a few bruises and a gigantic hole that took the crotch and ass completely out of my pants. I walked back to my aunt's house, extremely pissed that I had ruined my favorite pants as i defended myself from the strange looks on joggers faces. I will never forget this story for the simple fact that no matter how embarrassing it was, none of my friends were within 2 states at the time, so without anybody giving me shit for it, I can tell who I want about it and not feel humiliated.

 

From Kevin McMillen Jr.

buckeye206@gmail.com

 

When I was a boy, I loved dinosaurs. Still do, actually. I loved dinosaurs so much, I wanted to be a paleontologist.
Sometimes I would go into the garage and throw gardening tools into my Hulk Hogan backpack, then head into the Iowa wilderness to look for a spot where I might find dinosaur fossils.
One day, during a particularly hot and humid Iowa summer, I was in the forest by my house. I was dirty from digging holes for a time. I dug my trowel into the dry soil and hit something hard.
Lo and behold, it wasn't just a rock. Excited, I pulled out a toothbrush, because all paleontologists brush off the fossil rather than haphazardly digging it out.
After a while, I could see the eye socket of a skull. Then I could see the teeth. Then the spine.
Feeling as if I needed to return this specimen to the lab (a.k.a. my bedroom), I threw the skull in my bag for later identification.
Upon my arrival at home, I showed the skull to my dad. He laughed at me and told me it was no dinosaur.
"That's a deer, Daryl", he said through a smile.
Not wanting to believe him, I ran downstairs to check my dinosaur books. I couldn't find anything that even almost fit, and finally, much to my chagrin, conceded that my father was right.
But that didn't stop me from returning to the woods with my digging tools the very next day.

 

From Daryl Douglas Adams

daryl.adam.douglas@gmail.com

 

a story eh...I went to cash a carry today with my boss.  We decided to make tacos for "family meal" at the end of the night; I work at a Japanese restaurant in Fremont.  Before we decided what we were to have for dinner, we picked out new cutting-boards; green, and two new tephlon frying pans... and chocolate syrup. its amazing what Cash and Carry carries!!!...Idont know if you have been there,,,but its crazy!  BULK!!!  We went into the huge walking in freezer and refrigerator! I liked the smell of the produce walk-in for some reason.  But yes...we decided on fish tacos! black cod and my boss told me I was to prepare the dish for everyone!  He said we needed to make tartar sauce for the fish and we needed tortillas, cilantro, relish and radish!
Upon arriving at work, I made the tartar sauce and a pico de gallo salsa and sliced the radish.  My boss did prepared the black cod; breaded and baked! the tacos were delicious!!

 

From Maxx Arnold

maxxarnold@yahoo.com

 

I am not sure why it happened.  I was going for a jog with my dog today enjoying the spring that I have so longingly awaited.  So, here we are proudly jogging, feeling the cool air on my face, enjoying the sunshine and next thing I know I am laying on the side of the rode with my dog standing on my chest.  Oh yes, that's right the infamous squirrel caught my dog's attention and she wrapped the leash around my ankles causing my to fall to the ground.  We are both ok, not even a scratch actually.  I couldn't help but laugh my butt off that an animal so simply just wants to get a squirrel. 

 

From Matthew Sheaffer

sheaffer_matt@hotmail.com

 

I used to be a soccer referee. I was around 11 years old when I was learning how to be one. To get some reffing experience I was signed up to ref at the little soccer jamboree down by Greenlake. These soccer jamborees were used to help teach young refs and at the same time let a bunch of teams play each other all in one day. So there I was, no reffing experience reffing these my first game ever. It was going great. The parents weren't yelling at me. The players were having a good time. About half way through the game a player is dribbling down the field no one around him and he steps on the ball and falls over. The ball flies away from him and the soccer game continues. Couple seconds later I get the little tap on my shoulder, "hey ref, hey ref, I think my wrist is broken". The player holds up his wrist and it looks like a Z. This player was around 8 years old and wasn't even freaking out that his wrist looked like the last letter of the alphabet. I've never seen a broken bone ever so this is the coolest thing ever to me. So instead of being the hero referee by blowing the whistle and telling a parent to call 911. I kind of stand there mesmerized by his wrist for a while until a parent noticed it and screamed. This sets off a chain reaction of screaming parents running onto the field. I finally blow my whistle to stop the game.... and ya thats pretty much my first soccer game I ever reffed.

 

From “Bob Robert”

 

I just got back into the states after living in Ireland for four months this winter working on organic farms. I could have chosen a more tropical locale, but I decided to teach myself Irish-Gaelic last summer in between my time living and working as a wilderness river ranger in Idaho

 

From Al Roberts

fredo3467@yahoo.com

 

So me and a buddy decided to go skydiving. We thought it would be a good time. Well there was three of us, when we got there, and started signing up for the dive. One of my buddies thought it would be a funny Idea to jump in just our skivvies. We all thought about it for a second weighed the pros and cons, and decided it would be worth it. We all start to get ready in the jump suits which they require you to wear clothes under. Little did they know we decided otherwise. We get on the plane and are told that at this point we can either choose to jump or go back down. We decided to strip, the instructors didnt know what the hell was going on. They soon realized our plan. They didnt like it! We told them we would change, but when the others who were on the plane started to jump, we quickly took off what we put back on and jumped out. They didnt like that either. When we got to the ground, there was a few unhappy employee's waiting for us. They escorted us to the registration area, where they said we must sit till the cops arrived. Once we heard that, we jumped up and took off to our truck and left. Still in our boxers. Good times

 

From Timothy Andrews

timothyandrews79@yahoo.com

 

When I was a kid growing up in Cali I once dug a hole trying to make it to China. I got about 3 ft and went to go play baseball waterslide. I may or may not have slight a.d.d., but who doesn't?

 

From Kris

kmfroi@googlemail.com

 

when I was a child my friend lost a ninja turtle toy in the mud. We spent 30 min looking for it in the dirt, but ever found it. Once the water had dried the toy was gone forever. I think the dirt gods ate it.

 

From neal rochman

thunder-wing@hotmail.com

 

the last girl was a flake. We had 2 dates and at the end of the 2nd she said it was awkward but still wanted to be friends. I said sure and we hung out again. She said that was awkward too but still wanted to be friends and maybe more but she didn’t want a relationship. I was confused and then she cancelled the last 2 times we were supposed to hang out. So I told her yesterday she’s a flake and I don’t want to waste time with her anymore.

 

From neal rochman

thunder-wing@hotmail.com

 

really? the last story? story of the last girl I met on craigslist... traded a laptop to her for a night of her time....really...

 

Sig.229@comcast.net

 

Heres a few little stories.

 

1.  When I was about 5 I lived in a trailer park with my parents outside of Huston Texas (my dad worked at NASA in Huston during the Apollo project).  The trailer park had a very nice swimming pool that I used quite frequently with my older brother.  One day while swimming with my brother I challenged him to a race to the other side of the pool.  As soon as he started swimming I got out of the pool and ran along the side to the other end to jump in at the last second and say I beat him.  My plan succeeded except for the fact that I didn't time my jump right and ended up with my chin hitting the cement edge of the pool and splitting it wide open.  My brother finally made it to the other end only to find me already there with a growing stain of blood around me in the water.  To this day I still have a scar on my chin.

 

2.  When I was about 6 my parents used to take me and my older brother to a campground for weekends.  The campground was in a marshy bayou area close to Louisiana full of water moccasins, scorpions, and tarantulas.  I remember my older brother chasing something one day saying "here kitty kitty......."  with my parents running after him yelling "its a skunk!"

 

3.  At about the same age I remember getting stung by a jelly fish (man-o-war) while swimming in the gulf of Mexico and my parents carrying me out of the water.

 

4.  When I was about 11 an older neighbor girl showed me her boobs after I let her ride my bicycle.  After that we used to play "show-n-tell" out in the fields or barn haylofts.

 

5. I just submitted an application today to get into an apartment in Ballard.  If I get approved I'll be moving in this Saturday.

 

From Andrew Corson

amc078@gmail.com

 

Well I have a story for you, the last time I bought a pineapple now it may not be fair but I bought 8 at once. I work at a produce warehouse and we sell pineapple of course, we have 6, 7, and 8. Since I love pineapples I got the 8 count. Its cheap for bulk too.

 

From Nikolaus Vassallo

nvassa20@gmail.com

 

So the other night I picked up a hitch hiker up on 85th and drove him to downtown Ballard. I initially drove past him but felt sorry so I turned around and asked him where he needed to go. At first it was kind of creepy because there is always the chance that they could be a murderer haha.. Anyways, he kept talking about liberal arts and that he was a teacher at UW, for some reason I had a hard time believing him.

Long story short, like a year ago I was down in California doing some work and I was stuck at a kinkos printing copies so I had to hitch a ride back to the hotel... Anyways, I believe in karma and now I'm even I guess you could say.

 

From Ki

4ourum@gmail.com

 

the girl on my last date was ... a boy.  i met her at the bus stop.  she was pretty, petite, great legs, warm smile.  the conversation was good, we walked, talked, had coffee, went to a movie, held hands.  went to coffee again and she told me ... she's a guy. in every sense of the word.  built just like me.  this was a few weeks ago in Bangkok where 'ladyboys' are common and very accepted.  Sometimes I can tell -- the adams apple is often noticeable although sometimes they have surgery to remove it.  She was wearing a pretty little silk scarf and I had no clue.  I appreciated her telling me before we wound up in bed -- that could have been an awkward moment.  I'm mildly sexually adventurous but have no interest in sleeping with a guy.  It became a chance to learn a little about being a ladyboy ... it's not hard to imagine some of the challenges even in a tolerant society like Thailand.  Anyway ... that was my last date.  not a great story but ... not the norm for me by a long way. 

 

From Gary

garym06@msn.com

 

Once upon a time, when we all lived in the forest, there was a little Transformer robot, an autobot.  This robot wasn't the biggest or the badest Transformer.  It couldn't turn into a tank or a boom box or a fighter jet.  It just turned into a plain 'ol smallish pickup.  The other Autobots didn't pick on the littlest transformer, they just ignored the poor dude.  The decepticons didn't pick on him either, they just ignored him.  In battle, the littlest transformer was all alone, ignored by his companions and his enemies.  And everyone knows that no attention at all is worse than even bad attention. 
 
So what could the littlest transformer do?  He thought and thought and thought some more.  Confused and alone, he tried joining the local gang of neonazis, but it turn out very well.  They were prejudiced against him.  They called him a said he was a mud race race traitor, a robosexual, and that he was dragging down the genetic purity of the Fatherland and preventing the state from owning the means of production as dictated by national socialism.  "But I'm not even a biological organism..." he tried to explain, but the silly racists were hearing none of that.  They went goose-stepping off into the woods, heil-hiterling the trees and squirells and stuff, leaving the littlest transformer all by himself. 
 
So the littlest, lonliest (did I mention he was also small?) transformer took up a job picking up hitchhikers.  Hitchhikers don't pay anything, and they don't shower, and some of them are crazy, but at least the lonliest transformer had something to do.  But one day, when he was driving some hitchhikers from one place to another, he realized that there was an unspecified plot device up ahead!  "Sweet zombie Jesus!" he exclaimed in either surprise or fear - or maybe giddiness, I don't know, you pick - and immediately transformed into robot mode.  Unfortunately, his hitchhiker passengers were still inside his cab, and he crushed them to death. 
 
"Oh well, they were completely undeveloped characters who didn't even have names, no big."  And then the littliest, lonliest transformer manipulated the unspecified plot device in some manner or another, and the story came to an arbitrary and ultimately unsatisfying end.  In conclusion, Portugal is a land of contrasts. 

 

From Jon O

shade4440@hotmail.com

 

This story takes place in a land far, far away called Stevens Pass.  Me and a few of my fellow car nerds totaling about five cars met up at the big smokestack in Monroe.  We had planned a day of fun driving across the pass, through Leavenworth and back over Snoqualmie.  We started up highway 2 slowly ascending up the mountain.  When we finally got near the summit it was decided that stopping for a picture with all of the cars in a row would be fun.  So here we are stopped on the side of the road at who knows how many thousands of feet above sea level taking pictures of the cars perched at the edge of a steep cliff.  Something's wrong.  Somebody hears a horrible noise, looks up and sees an avalanche headed straight for all of us and the cars.  We take off running for our lives down the side of the road, leaving the cars for a fate too horrible to imagine.  As we keep running we notice the avalanche  changing direction just short of the road, it's now headed down a small valley and has missed the cars completely.  The bad news is the valley comes out exactly where we have just run to!  Uh oh.  This can't be, all that running and we're still going to die!  Luckily the snow begins to slow and by the time it reaches the highway it has stopped completely.  The moral of the story is: Don't run INTO an avalanche.  Ever.

 

From Alan Frazier

alanfraz@hotmail.com

 

Buying a pineapple. I went to Hawaii for the first time in November and for the life of me I couldn't find one anywhere. Nope. No Grass skirts, no lei's, no hawaiian shirts and no freaking pineapples. I wasn't sure i was in hawaii! So I journeyed to the Dole plantation, none the less, and found the forbidden fruit!

 

The last Girl being...a skitzo, bipolar, and married! What the heck happened??! Well we had a few awesome dates, she said she was divorced, and would be in a ver romantic moment only to her to stop abrubtly and just stare at me and ask me weird questions (que the twilight zone music here) so luckily she never called again, after i asked if she was bi-polar. Got to love craigslist huh!?

 

Parents. Well this is a tough one my mom and i parted ways when i was 17 becasue she was and still is evil and crazy. he thinks she's a prophet. Do i need to say more? Thank God I had awesome granparents who raised me right.

 

Diggin dirt. I dug a whole in the back yard becuse I wanted to make an underground fort! It was baout 5 feet long and about 3 feet deep. never built the fort just kids of played with toys in a really cool fox hole. We used it as an open grave for a hallowwen party once! When they sold the house and left for colorado, my grandad had to fill it back in and wondered why on earth there was a big hole in the backyard! Hillarious!!

 

From Jason Thordarson

thejasonator@comcast.net

 

So I'm in this marching band and we do a parade in Penticton B.C. every summer and its actually a really long parade and it doesn't help that our uniform include long Dickie's pants and high socks, so we're marching down the route not to far from the end and were playing the song Hush by Deep Purple I personally like the marching version better if you listen to it theres a big crescendo near the end the song was nearing this my favorite part of the song but there was a particularly curious Hornet, yes I said a Hornet, buzzing around the mouthpiece of my Trombone, I didn't want to swat at it and make it mad or stop playing. So I without thinking I take a big breath and the hornet goes right .. down ... my .. throat, I imagine that pine-cones feel similar going down. Immanently after that I turned to the rank behind me and yelled "GUYS I JUST SWALLOWED A HORNET!!" I kept marching and one of the staff whom walk along side the band brought me some water just in time for me to play the next song. About a two blocks after that I spat up a wing then a leg, for a while after the parade I was trying to figure out if I was going to die I did however get to tell almost all 170 members of the band this story. 

 

From C.J. Abe

so.hard.to.see@gmail.com

 

Many years ago, I came across a door in my attic with an abnormal key hole. At first I thought to myself,  “It must have a skeleton key lying around here somewhere”. So hours went by as I searched for the key, wondering what secrets were behind that door. I thought about riches being behind that door, something I would be amazed with. and yet again I also thought about terrifying things. Things that no human should set eyes on. So that lead to the thought, “do I really want to know what is behind that door?”. Of course I did, who was I kidding. It would take an act of  super human will power to resist the curiosity that this door bestowed upon me. I wanted to know so badly what was behind the door, I would do anything for just a glimpse. Days went by as a dreamt of the secrets, every night in my dreams a new adventure was waiting for me behind the door. Soon I found myself falling asleep in front of the door, hoping that it would open for me by itself. One night while I lay beside the door, a strong wind threw open the attic window and sent a shiver down my spine. I went to close the window and on my return to the door I noticed something shiny sitting on a shelf on the wall. It was something I have never laid eyes on. It came to my mind that this might finally be it, “this is the key that will open the door to my dreams”. I picked up the key and walked over to the door, realizing that at this moment the door could no longer hold me back from what I wanted. I slid the key into the hole above the knob and turned it. My breath fled from my lungs when I saw what was inside that room. The one thing I had been wanting this whole time, was now right before me. I no longer had to wonder what was behind that door.

 

From Taylor Shreve

sleight_of_hand@live.com

 

One time I was on Wake Island and caught an octopus with my bare hands, right out of the Pacific Ocean waters. Okay, I didn't catch it, my friend did. But then he handed it to me and I was like WHOOOOAAAA A FUCKING OCTOPUS

My friends and I almost got jumped in Spain, once. By a bunch of 14 year old girls. They were following us and yelling Spanish slurs at us. Good think they didn't actually try to beat us up, because we probably would have lost. No me gusta.

I've been propositioned by streetwalkers twice. I was kind of weirded out both times, obviously. One of them looked really terrible and was probably addicted to meth. Kind of depressing really.

Turns out the Japanese really are as perverted as they seem. I was in Tokyo in the Akihabara district (where all the electronics and geeky shit is sold) and walked into a video store. Turns out only the first two floors had regular DVDs. The other 7 carried some of the craziest perverted pornography I've ever seen. On one floor was a massage parlor that I'm pretty sure was the "happy ending" type.

I used to live next to the Mexican border. There really is a wall at the border in most places, and there has been for years. At night, music from the local Mexican discos would serenade us to sleep. They played mostly Mariachi-style stuff, so I guess it's not really a stereotype since it's true!

 

Belross@gmail.com

 

There are many ways to tell it, many details that can be left out, and many condensed versions which carry the same meaning. 

 

 

 

Here's one.

 

Once upon a time, I sat in the back of the computer lab during lunch. I couldn't be in rooms with a lot of people, didn't go to parties, didn't hang out with anyone, and played lots of video games.

 

I had a therapist, he was an idiot, and I took 1.2g a day of anti-anxiety pills.

 

Then, one day, I got really tired and grew some balls, stopped taking the pills, and lost a bunch of weight.

 

Since then, I've become one of the most sociable people at my school, found a direction and career goal for myself, am immensely networked for one my age in my industry, and honestly intend to conquer the world through video games I will make.

 

I like being confident. It's more fun, I get more done, and I get to be proud of myself when I look in the mirror.

 

discreetadress@gmail.com

 

About five or six years ago, in my teens, I purchased a whole pineapple. My brothers and I took turns hacking at it with my father's nice kitchen knives (he's Japanese) and couldn't seem to split it properly. After ruining the blades we finally got it open only to realize that we really don't like pineapple that much, and it tastes better from the can.

The girl is a stripper. I told her that she was not allowed to install a stripper pole in the house, in spite of her expressed desire. One day I found an in-box dancer pole in the living room. I shouted that it will never go up, and that she should return it. She insisted that it would be installed at her friend's house. Another day I found the box open, with all the parts still inside. I looked up at the ceiling and saw holes where she had attempted to bolt it. I was furious. She was, too, and told me that my ceiling sucks. She doesn't know what a "stud" or a "beam" is. Thank god.

I've always despised my mother and my dad feels uncomfortable now that I'm bigger than he is. None of them are at all involved in my life in spite of the fact that I'm the only one of their three children that really did anything with his life, but perhaps that's the reason. My parents are awkward people even when I'm not around, so meeting them is always a strange experience. And they love cats, to the extent of being somewhat disturbing.

As a child I hated digging in the dirt, as I do now, because I hate the feeling of having anything under my fingernails. But at the same time, I had this fantasy that if I dug deep enough I would find treasure of some kind. In my childhood apartment complex there were holes here and there from my various attempts, most of which were successful. I had quite the collection of shiny rocks, old rusty pieces of metal, and other odd objects that could be found.

 

From Miki

kaizoku@gmail.com

 

I used to work as a 911 operator, and one time I
caught a murderer.

 

From Brian

hajik52@gmail.com

 

I light up the hookah and look outside the window. As the light flickers
from the ceiling fan’s rotation with the frequency of an idling jalopy,
I take in the view I have yet to become accustomed to. The Halogen
lights of the passing vehicles catch my eyes and the neon draws my
attention as it lights up the Broadway sign. It’s not always this
peaceful, but the diversity of stimuli is always able to capture my
attention.
I am assured that there are grander views that could compete with my
humble abode. One might say, sure you see the Space Needle gleaming
faintly in the distance, but this can by no means compare to the vast
sprawl that lies under its watchful gaze, looking out on to the cowering
city under its towering form. To this I would say the far-reaching view
seen from the Space Needle is truly exorbitant, however it fails to
include one iconic figure. Whereas from my window the Space Needle is
the center piece and stands out as one of the well-known iconic mediums
of the Northwest. The view from the Seattle tower lacks its own
presence, as the monolithic spear reaching in to the sky, so familiar to
Washingtonians and anyone that has ever passed through my state, is absent.
Most things remain the same when I peer out, ready to take in the new
day, or watch the clouds billow in from Puget Sound. The mountain ridges
faint in the distance are highlighted by anachronistic electric poles
strung together by draped, decaying wires. At first they seemed to be
part of the mountain ridge, but as I examine further I start to
individuate between the foreground and the painted-on backdrop of
mountains fifteen miles away. The water from this angle looks as if it’s
swallowing Downtown whole. Both I-5 and the Viaduct are obscured leaving
only buildings, which form a ravine framed by skyscrapers to the south
and Queen Ann Hill to the northwest. The hillsides are littered with
firefly sparks created by every light the city has to offer.
There is a time of the night when morning creeps in, and just before
Seattle City Light terns off the streetlamps for the day, their faint
glimmer begins to be drowned out by the oncoming sunrise. In the winter
this is especially spectacular as the light from the lion-headed sun
gradually washes over Puget Sound; its amber rays ellipse over the cool
blue cutout of Mount Washington somewhere over the remote horizon.
Though an element of timeless nature is present, so is man’s endless
construction project. I never know what I will see outside my window.
Sometimes it could be a man walking hastily with his two pitbulls
trotting along, leading him by their leashes. At another time it could
be an Officer who, in a beckoning and commanding voice, directs a
gentleman in a non-descript Sedan to pull over for a routine traffic
stop. The man’s face shows dread and a nervous obedience to his sudden
detour on this evening’s ride. This scene recurs often at the busy
intersection of John and Broadway.
Often I find myself watching the passer-bys that are unaware of their
roles as stars of my own private television show. Sometimes they are
reunited lovers, eager to see one another, and at others they are
adversaries that can’t bear another moment in each-others presence. Most
don’t look up, and most would not be noticeable from the street level,
but from above they are transformed into animated caricatures with
unintended anecdotal characteristics, casting themselves as players in
my life for a short time.
Sometimes the street of Broadway is not the most welcoming, as when a
group of men piling out of Club Lagoon not half a block away reenact a
fight scene worthy of Big Trouble in Little China. Screaming and yelling
at one another, they draw undue attention and soon the street is closed
off by a quartet of Crown Victoria Fords gleaming and emitting a concert
of sirens muffled by my apartment walls. And the show is over, but not
before one of the participants lands an enraged high kick on his
retreating opponent. Most of the times when ‘Cops’ comes on my window
set-television, there is a good reason, at times, however, it takes a
turn for the absurd.
I recall the evening when a war veteran in a wheelchair, having alarmed
someone, was reported for possession of a handgun. Though a dubious
claim debunked shortly thereafter, did pose for satirical imagery, as he
sits calmly in his wheelchair, arms outstretched in bewilderment, with
six officers surrounding him on all sides, causing immense confusion to
the passerbys. Once the allegation is dismissed, the veteran and the
Officers chat for a bit before returning to their respective duties.
The diversity of events always builds up by the weekends, with the
crowds of bar-goers stringing in past my windows like flocks of
migrating birds. Some already intoxicated, and progressively getting
louder, and other groups coyly laughing, while they await to be reunited
with the brightly colored open signs of their favorite bars.
Sometimes during the week Blue, just underneath my window will
experience an influx of patrons that after several drinks billow
outdoors to quench their desire for tobacco, the smell of which seems to
penetrate my home regardless of my efforts to seal its putrid sent out
from my living room.
The smell of tobacco is not the only unannounced visitor. Early in the
morning I will often find my self sensing a hint of freshly baked bread
seeping through the cracks of my eighty-year-old window sills as it
escapes the baker’s racks of the local submarine sandwich shop. Its
aroma having long become associated with sub-par taste, is now more
invigorating then enticing, still manages to stir up my hunger. Often
when I find myself noticing the scents of Subway, I rush out for
something more fulfilling, or dig into my cupboards in the hops of
finding something that could take my mind off the seemingly omnipotent
smells of local kitchens.
When it snows or rains I enjoy looking outside at the rushed pedestrians
trying to get to their destination with little time to spare for the
surroundings which often captivate me or the stoplights that would
normally persuade them to slow down. In the comfort of my home, assured
by an always percolating, and steam-spewing radiator, I can take in
these glum days without feeling the need to skip over the details. When
it snows, and the wind howls at my window I notice the rapidly falling
snowflakes as the drift hastily past the glow of the street lamps. If it
starts to hail I am shot out of my chair to catch a glimpse of what
could possibly be a marching band composed entirely of drummers, only to
find ice pellets adoring the outside of my window sill. When this occurs
I pick up the hail, left by the overcast sky and feel it’s grainy specs
melt away from the heat of my fingertips, leaving my hands feeling
tingly for a moment. Sometimes I am not startled at all, and finally
when I raise my eyes I am greeted with a carpet of white, that floods me
with memories of my childhood in Moscow. Right after it rains, and often
after it snows the smog of the city seams to dissipate, and the air
becomes as fresh as after a lighting storm, almost energized by all the
commotion.
There are surely many majestic views in the Northwest, and elsewhere
beyond fair Washington State. Often the rain will make you long for
something other than the dreary and seemly endless precipitation, but
one look outside of my window, and I remember why I choose to live in
Seattle. As I look outside my window, my floorboards give way under my
shifting weight with a familiar creak and I know I am home.

 

From Eugene Drovetski

russian.tech@gmail.com

 

So the story goes my last girl was named Marie. So one morning I was in my Econ class and I decided to text her.  I text " I'm so horney rite now".  It seems innocent enough but the problem was that when I scrolled down my contact list on my phone the name Mom comes rite after Marie.  So basically I sent my mom a text that says "I'm so horney rite now".  Needless to say it was a little awkward seeing my parents after that.

 

From James Marchant

jt12shotty@gmail.com

 

 

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