In grade 2 my friends and I spent our lunch hour making a sweet snow fort. Then some grade 8-9 bully comes in and stomps on it while my friends and I helplessly watch in horror.
I become so enraged that I walk on top of the destroyed fortress, yell at the bully and kick him square in the balls.
He proceeds to run away and shortly after comes back with a few friends. His friends begin to kick the #### out of all my friends as I once again helplessly watch.
It's a good thing I moved that Summer as I lost many friends that day.
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We did more stupid things as kids than I can count.
Growing up in Lethbridge, we would ride our bikes down to the river bottom and climb the big train bridge. It would shake like crazy when a train went over so we started hanging from the steel pieces near the bottom to feel the vibrations. It turned into a game to see who could hold on the longest and we would turn our arms to rubber trying to win. Of course, we were only about 10 feet off the ground so eventually that wasn't exciting enough anymore and we started seeing how high up the bridge towers we could get. We were small enough to lie down inside the steel girders so we would just climb up and lie there, 200 feet off the ground, hanging on and getting rattled silly as the train went over.
There used to be this TV show called "The Master" about an old dude who was really a retired ninja or something, reluctantly training his young protege. Of course we thought it was the coolest thing ever, and simply by the virtue of watching it once a week we all became ad-hoc ninja students as well. Our "training" consisted of jumping off the roofs of our houses and out of trees, trying to karate chop pieces of plywood, (of course none of us had any real instruction - one of my friends actually broke his hand trying to punch through a cinder block) and running full speed along the tops of people's fences to "improve our balance". We would have races to see who could do it fastest. These were your typical wood fences, probably about 6 feet high and not always in the greatest condition. We had some gnarly falls off those things.
Another friend (not the broken hand kid) had parents who owned an acreage just south of the city and we would spend every spare minute out there. It had a couple old houses on it and half a dozen farm buildings in varying states of repair. Since we were ninjas, we would run around on the roofs and even jump from building to building. One of the barns was so rotten that if you were on the roof and you stepped in between the rafters, your foot would punch right through. We thought that was perfect so again we would race each other down the length of the building, timing our steps to (hopefully) hit the solid spots. I fell through once and cut my leg pretty badly on a rusty nail. My mom took me to the doctor for a tetanus shot and told me to be more careful, and that was the end of it. Of course, she had no idea what we were actually doing out there and it was a miracle nobody got killed.
We did have one close call that kind of woke us up a bit. One of the old barns had a hay loft that had trap doors to get up in to it, which made it the ideal location for our ninja headquarters. We dragged a ton of old wood up there and built a bunch of pretty cool forts, but then we decided that security was an issue (with us being an elite secret ninja society, we figured everyone would be trying to hunt us down and kill us) and that the best way to protect our fortress was to booby trap the trap doors into the hay loft. We found a whole bunch of old rusty farm implements and rigged up dead drops so they would fall on anyone who opened the trap doors without disarming them first. It seemed like a great idea until one kid forgot about it a couple weeks later and almost got a plough blade in the face. Somehow he managed to dodge it but it did cut his shoulder pretty bad and gave us all a good scare. That thing probably weighed 30 lbs and we're lucky it didn't take his head right off his shoulders.
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Last edited by Redliner; 05-20-2016 at 11:11 AM.
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I spent hours upon hours trying to beat Battletoads and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles on the NES. That was totally stupid on my part, because those games are unbeatable without a Game Genie.
I feel like I was a pretty well-adjusted child. However, there are three things which I regret.
1. My baby photos are all in Vancouver Canucks picture frames.
2. I own Zellers versions of Oilers, Canucks, and Leafs jerseys.
3. I own a Todd Bertuzzi bobblehead - which wouldn't be bad, but it's a Canucks bobblehead.
I threw away the Oilers and Canucks jerseys in my early teens, though I kept the Leafs jersey - I like the Leafs.
Part of my family is from B.C., and they are all Canucks fans. That explains the picture frame and the Canucks jersey. I have no idea where the Oilers jersey came from, we all hate them. As for the Leafs jersey... beats me.
The Bertuzzi bobblehead was my mistake. I bought it when he came to Calgary, because I'd always liked Bert (still do - have his Flames #7 jersey). Didn't realize until I took it out of the box that I'd inadvertently bought a Canucks bobblehead. It wasn't cheap, though, and I believe I bought at a Value Village or something, so it was final sale. I keep it on my desk as a paperweight.
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Behind my house growing up, was a greenspace/park that was ~1km long, and about ~100 ft in elevation from top to bottom. It was littered with decorative boulders, shrubs, park equipment (swing sets, slides, etc.) and many many trees. Every winter, we would spend most of a Saturday building, wetting, and freezing moguls of various sizes and locations along the already winding and hilly terrain. We would also create ditches and holes in the snow.
Once nightfall set in after dinner (~7:00), we would go to the top of the park, and anywhere from 4 to 8 of us would proceed in a high-speed GT Snowracer race to the bottom. This was of course a full-contact race, with hidden perils studding the course. Punching, kicking, spitting, tackling, gladiatorial contact, distractions, dirty tricks, name-calling, picking up your sled and running, everything was allowed.
Every race was a legend. Every broken bone, sprained ankle, skinned shin, busted racer, and last-place finish a crowning achievement.
Haha, I won't be in today or for the rest of the weekend unfortunately. The guys at the counter will get a kick out this though!
They did get a kick out of it. Handed the blonde guy with a ponytail $3.51 (inflation adjusted $2.50). He did laugh as if he was still learning to read that year.
And, surprisingly, I did think about this periodically over the last 18 years. This might be the best $3.51 I've ever spent.
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So this one time we stole a few dozen real estate agent signs and stuck them all on some loser kid's lawn and took a bunch of pictures. That's not really too crazy but twenty five years later I ended up becoming a realtor in Calgary and my first ever deal was with a woman who's sign is front and center in one of those pictures with me draped all over it like a moron trying not to spill my 40 of OE. I thought she would have laughed about it a bit more.
Then this other time I got a wicked fake ID and was staying in a hotel room by myself. So I got really hammered and threw up all over the bed in the middle of the night. Of course I had to ditch the evidence....pukey sheets...down the stair well where no one would ever be able to piece that puzzle together. But I forgot that hotel room doors locked automatically. So I had to take the elevator down to the lobby in my underwear covered in barf, walk up to the front desk, stand in line and ask for a key.
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They did get a kick out of it. Handed the blonde guy with a ponytail $3.51 (inflation adjusted $2.50). He did laugh as if he was still learning to read that year.
And, surprisingly, I did think about this periodically over the last 18 years. This might be the best $3.51 I've ever spent.
That is awesome! You can officially consider yourself 'pardoned'. Your past self's debts are paid!
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So this one time we stole a few dozen real estate agent signs and stuck them all on some loser kid's lawn and took a bunch of pictures. That's not really too crazy but twenty five years later I ended up becoming a realtor in Calgary and my first ever deal was with a woman who's sign is front and center in one of those pictures with me draped all over it like a moron trying not to spill my 40 of OE. I thought she would have laughed about it a bit more.
Then this other time I got a wicked fake ID and was staying in a hotel room by myself. So I got really hammered and threw up all over the bed in the middle of the night. Of course I had to ditch the evidence....pukey sheets...down the stair well where no one would ever be able to piece that puzzle together. But I forgot that hotel room doors locked automatically. So I had to take the elevator down to the lobby in my underwear covered in barf, walk up to the front desk, stand in line and ask for a key.
I had a fake ID as well. Well it was my brother's actual ID, but he lent it to me so I could get into an 18+ show when I was 16 and I just told him I lost it. Loved that thing. The picture was my brother, but it was taken in such a way that just looked like 'generic young dude'. All my friends could get away with using it.
In Jr. High I was a bench warmer on the basketball team. Me and another player were frustrated by our lack of minutes, and "retired" our jerseys in the rafters of the gym. Almost got expelled.
Man, speaking for myself I am lucky to be alive. Being shot at, drunken car surfing, jumping off the dam.
So many stories and you went with basketball and daddy poppins?
Dumbest thing I ever did? I stole elemental sodium from a chem lab in high school. I threw it into a garbage can full off water from thirty feet and the can was destroyed in the explosion. The only reason I didn't get caught was that I blew up the garbage can on a weekend on gravel soccer fields. Thankfully that was well before 9/11 or I would be writing this to you from a cell in a secret facility somewhere.
In high school I had this super grumpy teacher who had it out for me (because I was always disturbing the class).
One day I showed up slightly late (one minute after the bell inbetween classes) and he decided he had enough of me and offered to flip a coin on wether I would be allowed to be in class that day. I picked heads because its always heads right? Wrong. It was tails. He told me to go to the office. I yelled out a few words in Arabic as i left the classroom.
The words I yelled out translate roughly as "eff your mum you ugly son of a b word"
He kept me after class the next day and explained to me how he taught in Oman for 15 years and speaks/understands arabic perfectly.
He was actually super cool about it but it was very embarrassing. We ended up having a super awesome chat and he became my favorite teacher ever! We're still in contact.
I stopped swearing at people in languages I assumed they didnt understand after that.
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