User Panel
Posted: 2/21/2006 6:25:04 AM EDT
Yup, me again. I have another stroke of generosity once again. This time is different.
Rules: 1. The rule of all rules, IT MUST BE COC COMPLIANT, I was pissed when I saw that 82nd had to edit a post in my last giveaway. 2. Entries are limited only to stories. 3. Stories must have details, no vague 3 line stories. 4. I want either a)funniest story you have, b)most embarassing story you have c)best prank you have ever pulled 5. Entries must be posted before 1700EST 02212006, any time stamp after that, will disqualify and entry (even to add a period or exclamation or fix spelling errors) 6. You must not be a member 7. I'd like newer members to benefit, people from 2001-2004 should have ponied up memberships a long time ago 8. Let the games begin! Suddenly, richardh247 has agreed to donate a membership as well. There are TWO memberships on the table. Entries must still be in bt 5:00, and after that, we will have a vote on it. A vote will be held by Team Members only between 5 and 7 pm for the best 2 stories posted, I will post a link when it happens. |
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Good on you, bro!
Two questions: 1. Can we nominate, or do they have to do it themselves? 2. If I pony up for a second membership, can we both vote for two, rather than one? ETA for clarification: If I buy another membership, can I help you vote for both new team members? |
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WINNER! |
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I took a Military Science class my freshmen year of college offered through the ROTC. We got to do some repelling off of the University of Arizona Koffler Building.
With the help of a SFC and a Major at the top, I hooked up, and went over the edge, per their instructions. I took one bound and somehow lost the ability to brake. My hand was smashed into the small of my back and I was still speeding down the line. I did just what I was supposed to do; I looked up at the face of the SFC and yelled "FALLING!!!" a few times. He yelled it back so my belay could hear it, all the while I'm still plummeting. I go SMACK into my belay, and my head ( - K-POT protected) goes CRACK into the cement. On the ground, on my back, every senior enlisted and officer who teaches at the UofA has swarmed me, holding my neck straight, and all I'm doing is waving my gloves in the air begging for someone to take them off because my hands BURN. After confirming that I'm uninjured they hoisted me up, and I asked if I could go up again. I still wanted to actually repell. Some of the younger guys looked at eachother funny, but gave me back by (lucky) helmet, new gloves, and a new carabiner. And up I went. 80ft fall btw. |
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My most embarassing story.
Throughout my childhood, my parents woul hire a babysitter/housekeeper. She would be at the house when my brothers and I got home from school and would also clean the house a cook dinner so when the parents got home from work they did not have to spend an hour and a half cooking. The sitter was usually a college girl, sometimes a hot college girl. Anyway, we had a new one and she was quite a looker. So two of my brothers and I were jumping our bikes in the field next to our house and showing off for her. We would jump our bikes and throw the bike out from under us and land on our feet. Well I did it once or twice and the next time I tried it, when I threw the bike out from under myself, I kept rotating. I landed flat on my back and probably bounced once or twice. The scarry part was I got my wind knocked out. It was the first time I ever had the wind knocked out of me and I was scared, I did not know why I could not breath. My brothers are laying on the ground laughing their heads off as the sitter comes up to me and asked if I am ok. All I can groan out is "CAAARRRRRYYYY MMMMEEEEEE" Of course this causes my brothers to laugh even more. "What?" she asks. "Caaaarrrryyyy mmmeeeeee" I again gasp out as my breath is slowly returning. She does not carry my but I think she helps me up off the ground. My brothers still laugh about it today, some 17 years later. It did teach me humility though. Whenever they wanted to embarass me in middle school they would bring up that story. I eventually learned it was ok to laugh at myself, and took the story away from them. |
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Heres my entry. The bold parts are the really dumb parts so you dont have to read the whole time. W4klr- you asked for details, you got details
Its the weekend after News years, 10 of us met down near Galveston at a freind's bayhouse to hang out for the weekend and see how drunk we could get. With it being a Janurary night and having the Gulf wind constantly blowing, it was rather cold for non-panhandle Texas, so we decided to get a fire going in an old 55 gallon oil drum to keep everyone warm. Well about midnight, we get the bright idea to add gasoline to the fire to get it bigger since we were out of lighter fluid. That went good a couple of times since we were being smart and pouring it into a cup before throwing it on the fire. Once the Vodka and Whiskey kicked in, we decided we were smarter than the fire and didn't need no dixie cups to pour gasoline on the fire. I poured the gasoline from the can directly on to the fire without any problem so Matt decided that he would do the same. Matt had been drinking since about noon and is easily distracted when drunk. Matt's sister came out of the bayhouse calling his name and when he turned his head to see who it was, he forgot about the gas pouring on the fire. He quickly relized that the nozzle of the can was on fire, so he tried to put the fire out by waving the can violently through the air. Any rational person would relieze that this is a bad idea, but we were slightly impaired. Once he noticed that he was just throwing flaming gasoline everywhere, he throw the can to the ground and tried stomping the flame out with his boots, while 4 other drunks tried to put out the spots where the gasoline had landed. Matt decided to chunk the can into the bay after his jeans had caught fire. As soon as put all the fire out, it was off to rescue the gas can from the bay. Before the more sober minds, the girls, can say anything, we are running down the dock with an inflatable boat and beer. It ended up taking a longass time to get back to shore after resucing the gasoline because its harder to paddle in a striaght line than to walk in one. We finally made it back to shore and Clumsy Rob decided it would be a great idea to write all our names in fire on the grass. Being that we were slightly impaired, we agreed and soon were pouring gasoline on the grass. A little information for non-texas residents, at this time Texas was a middle of a drought and a state wide burn ban. Only after we lit it, we decided that it was probbaly a bad idea. We finally got the grass put out but not without causlties. We all burned our jeans and boots and one guy even managed to lose his eyebrows; not sure how it happened since the flames never got more than about a foot off the ground. The whole time we were doing this, the ladies were up on the balacony laughing at us and then took away the gasoline so we wouldn't do anything stupid in our slight impairedness. Not really funny, but it was a dumb story for the contest and I figure someone will laugh at it. ETA- I will try to add pictures when I get back from class. |
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Sounds good to me, we can do the nomination/voting on winners. Thanks alod richardh247! |
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Just post it, I didn't completely rule you guys out... simply promoting newer members |
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My husband is a constant prankster (like slowly pulling the car away from a curb just as I'm climbing into it) and has a way of making me believe the dumbest things. After 23 years, I still fall for his pranks. I did get even, once. It was the morning of the birth of our 3rd daughter, a c-section. Arriving to the hospital at 5 am, the nurses started the normal surgery prep including an enema. Then the nurses hooked me up to heart monitor. Well needless to say, after an enema, I had to call the nurse to unhook me from the monitor so I could use the little girls room. Once finished, I had to call the nurse back to hook me up again. After about the 4th call to the nurse to unhook me yet again, my husband says "You don't need to call the nurse, it's easy. The blue cord goes in the blue hole, the red cord goes in the red hole, I can do it." I told my husband NOT to touch the machine and to let the nurses do their job. Determined to do it himself, my husband picked up the two cords and started to plug them into the machine. As soon as he touched the cords to the monitor, I convulsed on the table for about 5 seconds. Thinking he had just electrocuted me. his face turned white and he immediately dropped the cords from his hands. When I started laughing, the color came back to his face. I believe he called me a few choice names as well.
Lois |
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i have a very boring life so no good stories for me....heres a lame one though
Me and a buddy of mine i grew up with named Ray had decided we wanted to start coon hunting and were bound and determined to get a couple of hounds and try our luck. Well there was a guy in our welding class at high school named Andy whos preacher father had been big into hunting and was getting out of it. So we talked to andy and andy talked to his dad and his dad agreed to giving me and my friend 2 coon hounds. 1 was a young male blue tick which was mine and the other was a female treeing walker. I knew hound dogs didnt bark like regular dogs but jesus those mofos were awful. 2 days later both of our parents decided for us that we werent keeping them howling ass dogs anymore and made us take them back. So we drive all the way out to this guys house to give him these dogs back and apologize and 1. he aint home 2. the kennels he had them in were gone. So we loaded them back up in my friends 86 chevy blazer and start back down the road trying to figure up some kind of story to tell our parents. So were driving down the road about 60 miles an hour and all at once the worst smell you could imagine hits us all at once. We both turn around and look in the backseat and BOTH dogs were having a synchronized shitting contest....LOL....my little bluetick was perched on the edge of the backseat with his rear hanging over and his tail sticking straight out letting it fly and his dog was pooping in the floor. So he slams on the brakes and pulls about 30 feet down a little side road and starts puking. I was laughing my ass off. One reason is he is puking over dog poo and the other reason is it wasnt my car or my cowboy hat that just got pooped all over. So long story short we left both of those dogs out there in the woods and he went to a car wash and used the pressure washer to wash out the inside of his car....seats, carpet and everything |
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This is when i was in the army i was a mechanic and we were all sitting around our maintenance office down at hood one day when we got a great idea. The door to our our ofice opened outward so we hung a chair from the knob and counterbalanced it with a shackle off the front of an abrams that we tied to the leg. Our Platoon Sergeant picked that moment to walk in the door and as he jerked the door open the chair went flying from where it was leaning against the frame right into his knee. he then picked up the chair flung it halfway across the motorpool and made us do pushups the rest of the afternoon. And that is the story of the swinging chair of doom
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Never mind, already member. I'll save my most Embarrassing monent till later.
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I was a wet behind the ears Private E-1 on my first FTX (Field Training Exercise), now mind you I had always been a city boy, I'd never been camping or hunting and never lived out in the "wild". We were scheduled to go to Hohenfels for 30 days and if you've ever been stationed in Germany you know the weather can be somewhat uncooperative in March. It had rained steadily for about a week.
I spent the second night of my "field trip" pulling guard duty at the ECP (Entrance Control Point) manning the M-60. Now anyone that has ever pulled guard duty can relate to the extreme boredom associated with guard duty, after the 4th hour of staring at the road ahead my eyes began to get a little heavy and started doing flutter kicks against my eyelids. I decided that in order to stay awake I should drink some coffee. I opened up a couple of MRE's and pulled out the coffee packets. I had a seasoned Specialist with me and he showed me how to make some "Ranger Pudding". I quickly downed 2 MRE's worth of "Ranger Pudding" and felt energized, it was a rush of caffeine and sugar. In fact I started to get the shakes and all of the sudden it hit me.........Extreme and violent nausea and stomach cramps. I started to get that silvery taste in my mouth, the kind you get right before you vomit and felt my stomach rumble as I clenched my butt cheeks to hold back the imminent expulsion of my innards. I had to go bad and quick, I told Specialist "snuffy" that I had to go and I'll be right back. Remember I was a city boy on my first FTX, I had never defecated in the woods before. I felt like I needed a toilet, something to sit on the ground was muddy after-all. I remembered unpacking a box that held the M8 Chemical alarm, it was one of those ammo crates with the removable inserts that had wire to hold it together. I snatched it up and searched for a private spot to crap my guts out. Picture me holding my butt cheeks together while carrying an M-16 and ammo crate in full field gear. I found the perfect spot to "do my business in" and set the box down. Now mind you this was the Nagasaki of diarrhea. It came out in what seemed to last several minutes. It was very messy to say the least. When I was all finished up I realized I didn't even think to get something to wipe with. I sat there in horror, not quite knowing what to do so I ripped off my T-shirt and used it to "clean myself up". I looked down at the box and felt panicked when I saw the mess. I had thought the poop would go straight down but saw that it exploded all over the inside of the box. Knowing what I had just done, I took some branches and covered the box up and walked away satisfied that I covered my tracks. Fast forward to the last day of the FTX. We were breaking down our field site and the NBC NCO approached me and asked me where the box for the M8 was. I lied and stated I had no clue. Well this seasoned NCO knew I was lying because he found a T-Shirt with my last name and last four of my SSN, covered in feces(imagine the look on his face). I had to face my entire company and was given the nickname of the "SHITBOX KID" my entire 2 years stationed there. |
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Here's my entry.
It all started one day at the lake when a friend of mine,(a male friend, and some-what younger than I ),decided (in fun of course) to call me "High- Mileaged". This did not set well, and I let a couple of weeks go by before deciding on a course of action. I talked it over with my husband, who was all for it, and contacted a girl-friend of mine who I knew would be a party to my little joke. We set-up a night and time to pull off my little charade-a Saturday night, starting at a local bar. The call went in to my friend from the lake and he eagerly accepted the free meal with bar-hopping afterwards. No mention of the plan during the meal. We got to the first bar around 7:00 and ordered a round of beer when I just happened to see an "old friend" walk in the place. Of course, this "old friend" had to be invited to have a drink with us. (My old friend happens to be in her mid-'40's and though a little on the heavier side, has some kasabbas's you wouldn't believe.) So she sits down with us to have a drink,(next to my friend of course), and we talk excitedly, play catch up etc. My friend finishes her drink and says her good-byes and leaves for who knows where. (We Know) Then we announce we're off to the next bar in town, where we have another couple of rounds and of course, just happen to see my old girl-friend again, and just happen to have her sit down and drink one with us again,(next to my friend of course). Each time she's getting a little more flirty with him. So this time we make excuses and leave, and go on to a private club in town where my husband and I purposefully get confused and order my friend 2 drinks, a beer and a mixed drink. Then who shows up but my old girl-friend. And again she sits next to my friend, remarking how incredible it is to see us everywhere she goes her one night in town. All the while getting more and more friendly with our increasingly nervous friend. So we take off and head for our house, to grab a bottle of our own and make drinks to take to another club to hear one of our favorite bands play and do a little dancing. (We made him a drink, but we had already cut back). And we hit the other club and the music is great, the dancing is wonderful, and who should show up but -yes that's right-my girl-friend. And she sits right next to my friend and she repeatedly asks him to dance, and all the while, leaning closer to him, and rubbing against him, and squeezing his inner thigh, things most guys dream a girl would do to them. And my extremely nervous friend starts mouthing the words "Help Me" at me, and I pretend to not notice and go on enjoying myself. And finally by the end of the night he is up, danicng with her, being groped at every opportunity in the dark. Everything a man could ever want a woman to do or say to him!! When we took him home later, he was silent. The first real time we had seen him this way, where speech was optional. We forced him to spend the night on our sofa and after many pots of coffee and a good breakfast, Sunday afternoon we allowed him to go home, nothing said about the night before. On Monday, we called his boss and asked him to play along with us, and of course he was game. We told him the story of Saturday night and of my girl-friend and asked him to tell my friend that she had called for him at work. That I had given her his work phone number. And that she wanted him, couldn't forget about him. That night I recieved a phone call from my friend. A very upset friend. He said he had been hung over until noon on Monday. (I think that must be some all-time record for hang-overs.) And that he had bruises on every part of his inner thighs and different body parts that we can't mention. And how he couldn't believe an older woman like that could be so sexually aggressive. Then I told him it had been a set-up. I told him the whole ugly story and that I hoped he had learned his lesson. And you know what! He didn't believe me. He didn't think I could possibly have set him up this way, that he surely would have known. Then finally it all sank in and he knew he had been had. Years later now, he's still my friend, but at least he's careful what he says to me!!! |
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Pic will be added by 1800 after work, and censerd to blur facial features and myself looking like a tool in highschool....
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Wasn't you I wanted to see, you ninny. Goth girl! |
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Lol... just remember, the good stories end with "Officer the cuffs are hurting me" |
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Those of you who have had to deal with junior officers as an enlisted member will get a kick out of this. Underway life on a ship can be rather boring at times; you do the same thing day in and day out. Those of us who have had to stand watch know what I’m talking about. I used to stand the duties of BMOW Boatswains Mate of the Watch, not to be confused with the beverage mate of the watch.. So here is the story. One Saturday evening or Sunday morning time on deck is 0100 or so. A few of us off duty BMOW’s are hanging out in the crew’s lounge having a good time. When in walks the on duty BMOW all pissed off because the OOD (officer of the deck) missed mid rats, due to waking up late and sent him on a personal food run. After much discussion the on duty BMOW went and retrieved some food from the galley (Fried chicken of course) and returned to the lounge, with a smile. With great pleasure he then began to T-BAG all off the fried chicken. Then fixed himself up and off to the bridge he went.
Some time passed and we had all forgot about it when in came the BMOW, who just started dying laughing, and said how he enjoyed watching that ensign eat all of the chicken and comment on how good it was. Also he complained that he had to wash his nuts because the grease and batter from the chicken were itching. I laughed so hard I almost pissed my self. Sometimes life is so good underway. Maybe someday i will tell that JO of that chicken he ate, ahh then again, probably not, i still enjoy my job |
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Alrighty, ThreatResponse and CSI are the winners of the contest. Excellent stories, I've got a sore stomach. I'll catch you guys around for my next wave of donations......
ThreatResponse, I activated your membership already, richards is going to get your CSI. |
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I'd like to thank w4klr (and the Team Membership) and Richardh247 for sponsoring this contest. I'd also like to give a special thanks to those of you who thought my story was worthy of winning. Thanks ARFCOM!!!!!!
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You are welcome. But we took a vote and you have to use "AKA The Shitbox Kid" as your sigline for the first year! |
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Alright CSI, you're all hooked up. Congratulations!
Thanks again for making this all come together, w4! |
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