Quote:
Originally posted by 4X4+May 5 2005, 06:51 PM--></div><table border='0' align='center' width='95%' cellpadding='3' cellspacing='1'><tr><td>QUOTE (4X4 @ May 5 2005, 06:51 PM)</td></tr><tr><td id='QUOTE'> <!--QuoteBegin-fotze@May 5 2005, 04:22 PM
That's a good one. My old best buddy from high school was filipino, his mom was INSANE. She would lose it for no reason and SCREAM for hours (no exagerration) at him for absolutely nothing, in philipino, so I can picture it just perfectly.
and yes I know all phillipine mothers are not the same, bakla
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Funny you should say that... The mom in my story is typically quite laid back. Conversly, I had another filipino friend whose mom would shriek like a crow, non-stop until he did whatever she was telling him to do.
Honestly, there's nothing more intimidating than a 4'6" woman who is not afraid of you, and with the balls to say errr scream it. [/b][/quote]
Irate moms are always good for a laugh or two especially if mom isn't yours.
A couple years ago
when I was 16 or 17 a couple buddies and I were invited over to young woman's house. This gal was younger than us (by a year or 2 which seemed like a big difference at the time) and she was known to have a very strict mom, who had a particular dislike for us older, filthyminded boys.
Lucky for us, mom wasn't going to be home. She was to be out for the night and we would have free run of the joint. So we get there and go downstairs and we were in there for maybe 2 minutes max when (surprise surprise) we hear the door open and down the stairs mom is coming with a full head of steam.
Everyone sorta starts looking at one another in a "now what"? kind of a way and then I looked down and noticed/recalled that in my right hand I was holding a 26 ounce bottle of finest Canadian rye whisky.
I wasn't supposed to be in the house, I certainly wasn't supposed to be in the basement after dark with the daughter, and I
really wasn't supposed to be in the basement after dark with the daughter with a bottle of whisky.
So I snap out of it and just before she gets down the stairs I come very very close to hiding it out of sight. She didn't see the booze but she knew I was up to something and the first thing she says (as she's walking right towards me) is "what do you have over there"? I just backed off like a wimp and she spotted the whisky, picked it up, and said incredulously "a bottle of whisky in my house"?
She held it out like it was a dirty snotrag so I grabbed it, bolted, and me and my pals were up those stairs and out of the house in under 5 seconds but we could already hear the shouting and the tears before the door slammed. It was pretty intense for a minute but we were rolling before we even got off the front lawn.
As I remember it we didn't hear from that gal again that summer.