05:09:35am, Friday, May 17, 2024
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let's have some fun
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after hours fun
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It is a cold winter day in the midwest,I am working at the desk and decited to lighten things up some.We all have memories that will make us laugh the fun that goes along with the hard work.Over the years a book could be written and sometimes perhaps the statue of limitations has ran out,leaning back in the chair I let my mind travel back in time to
Smoker Punch what all was in that stuff one will never know,various adult beverages,fruit,and dry ice to make it smoke Potato launchers many a spud has rattled off the grandstands Fireworks-big and small-various uses-port a potty vent pipes-pan of a sled being lifted off the ground-many a cussing-upset neighbors-police chases Story telling-some have missed their calling in life-Dave Hager can make a story come to life just like it was yesterday I have seen a tractor jumped off a truck firewood stacked under an a tractor after the puller made the remark,if he didn't win he would burn the tractor Huge bbq's Singing talent,comedian's performing courages support vehicle driving talent raceing-golf cart performance sleeping in the most awkward places and positions,I understand at gordyville one puller was found sleeping in a port a potty when the missing person search took place! midnight test and tune Bowling green could be it's own book not just a chapter Let's get the history shared all in fun,not to hurt any one and get through the winter blue's |
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Re: let's have some fun
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Uhhh
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What does this even mean |
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Re: let's have some fun
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Posts: 158 |
It is a decussion about some of the fun things that have happened over years after the pulls are over, or what happens the nights between pulls. I for one was to young for the potato guns or smokin punch at the time but I have heard the stories several times. |
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Re: let's have some fun
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HP
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That wouldn't be because dear old dad was involved would it?????? |
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Re: let's have some fun
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Posts: 158 |
lol I have know idea how he know's all those stories, thats not anything my dad would do!! haha I have the ole smokin punch recipe I just might have to bring it out this summer....hmmmm |
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Re: let's have some fun
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no fun
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have you never had any fun after a pull? |
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Re: let's have some fun
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bowling green
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The wild side at bowling green in the old days the entertainment was in the stands I'm sure the pull was just a reason for the party,than their is the camp grounds,I even saw a beech party their |
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Roasting hot dogs over a methanol fire!!! |
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Posts: 744 |
seen that done while testing the fire suits and equipment at the same time. |
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Re: let's have some fun
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Moderator Registered: 01/11/2009 Posts: 1,579 |
Here's a suggested spot to inspire some to share their old stories: www.competitionplus.com Read the "War Stories." Clearly, Pat Musi and Roy Hill were just about insane back in the day. I think there's four years of stories there. I'll usually be sitting in front of the TV on the laptop laughing alone while Mrs. Lively gives me a bewildered look as I cackle to myself reading and re-reading some of this stuff. just search "War Stories" on the site, worth a read.
two examples: Pat Musi (includes youtube footage that YES it did happen) and Roy Hill DISCLAIMER: A LOT OF THESE WAR STORIES ARE FAR FROM "G" RATED. READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION. Bryan Lively - 
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Re: let's have some fun
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Anonymous User
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I can see all of us doing this growing up.
Around age 10, my dad got me one of those little badass compound bow beginner kits. Of course, the first month I went around our land sticking arrows in anything that could get stuck by an arrow. Did you know that a 1955 40 horse Farmall tractor tire will take 6 rounds before it goes down? Tough sumbich. That got boring, so being the 10 yr old Dukes of Hazard fan that I was, I quickly advanced to taking strips of cut up T-shirt doused in chainsaw gas tied around the end and was sending flaming arrows all over the place. One summer afternoon, I was shooting flaming arrows into a large rotten oak stump in our backyard. I looked over under the carport and saw a shiny brand new can of starting fluid (Ether). A light bulb went off in my head. I grabbed the can and set it on the stump. I thought that it would probably just spray out in a controlled manner once pierced by my arrow. Lets face it, to a 10 yr old mouth-breather like myself, (Ether) really doesn't "sound" all that flammable. So, I went back into the house and got a 1 pound can of pyrodex (black powder for muzzle loader rifles). My intention was to sprinkle a little bit around the (Ether) can but it all sorta dumped out on me. No biggie, a 1 lb. pyrodex and 16 oz (Ether) should make a loud pop, kinda like a firecracker. You know what? I'm going back in the house for the other can. Yes, I got a second can of pyrodex and dumped it out on the stump too. Now I am cookin'. I stepped back about 15 ft and lit the 2 stroke arrow. I drew the nock to my cheek and took aim. As I released I heard a clunk as the arrow launched from my bow. In a slow motion time frame, I turned to see my dad getting out of his truck... He just got home from work. OH SHOOT! So help me God, it took 10 minutes for that arrow to go from my bow to the can. My dad was walking towards me in slow motion with a WTF look in his eyes. I turned back towards my target just in time to see the arrow pierce the starting fluid can right at the bottom. Right through the main pile of pyrodex and into the can. Oh wow!!! When the shock wave hit, it knocked me off my feet. I don't know if it was the actual compression wave that threw me back or just my reflex jerk from 235 fricking decibels of sound. I caught a half a millisecond glimpse of the violence during the initial explosion and I will tell you there was dust, grass, and bugs all hovering 1 ft above the ground as far as I could see. It was a low fog layer full of grasshoppers, spiders, and worms. The daylight turned purple. Let me repeat this: THE FRICKING DAYLIGHT TURNED PURPLE. There was a big birch tree out by the gate going into the pasture. Notice I said "was." That sumbich got up and ran off. So here I am, on the ground blown completely out of my shoes with my thundercats T-Shirt shredded, my dad is on the other side of the carport having what I can only assume is a Vietnam flashback: ECHO BRAVO CHARLIE YOU'RE BRINGIN' EM IN TOO CLOSE!! CEASE FIRE. DARN IT, CEASE FIRE!!!" His hat has blown off and is 30 ft behind him in the driveway. All windows on the north side of the house are blown out and there is a slow rolling mushroom cloud about 2000 ft. over our backyard. There is a Honda 185 3-wheeler parked on the other side of the yard and the fenders are drooped down now, touching the tires. I wish I knew what I said to my dad at this moment. I don't know - I know I said something. I couldn't hear. I couldn't hear inside my own head. I don't think he heard me either... not that it would really matter. I don't remember much from this point on. I said something, felt a sharp pain, and then woke up later. I felt a sharp pain, blacked out again, woke up later... repeat this process for an hour or so and you get the idea. I remember at one point my mom had to give me CPR, and Dad screaming "Bring him back to life so I can kill him again!!!" Thanks Mom. One thing for sure... I never had to mow around that stump again. Mom had been complaining about that thing for years and dad never did anything about it. You gotta give me credit for stepping up to the plate and taking care of business. Dad sold his muzzle loader a week or so later. I still have some sort of bone growth abnormality, either from the blast or the beating, or both. I guess what I'm trying to say is, get your kids into archery. But only under close supervision. It will teach you parental responsibility. |
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Re: let's have some fun
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Anonymous User
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If this don't make you laugh there is something wrong.
Cell phone use in the bathroom...hold on to your seat... All in all, it hadn't been a good day. Bad traffic, a malfunctioning computer, incompetent coworkers and a sore back all made me a seething cauldron of rage. But more importantly for this story, it had been over 48 hours since I'd last taken a dump. I'd tried to jumpstart the process, beginning my day with a bowl of a$$ cleansing fiber cereal, following it with six cups of coffee at work, and adding a bean-laden lunch at Taco Bell. As I was returning home from work, my insides let me know with subtle rumbles and the emission of the occasional tiny fart that Big Things would be happening soon. Alas, I had to stop at the mall to pick up an order for the wife. I completed this task, and as I was walking past the stores on my way back to the car, I noticed a large sale sign proclaiming, "Everything Must Go!" This was prophetic, for my colon informed me with a sudden violent cramp and a wet, squeaky fart that everything was indeed about to go. I hurried to the mall bathrooms. I surveyed the five stalls, which I have numbered 1 through 5 for your convenience: 1. Occupied. 2. Clean, but Bathroom Protocol forbids its use, as it's next to the occupied one. 3. Poop smeared on seat. 4. Poop and toilet paper in bowl, unidentifiable liquid splattered on seat. 5. No toilet paper, no stall door, something growing near base of toilet. Clearly, it had to be Stall #2. I trudged back, entered, dropped the trousers and sat down. I'm normally a fairly Shameful crapper. I wasn't happy about being next to the occupied stall, but Big Things were afoot. I was just getting ready to bear down when all of a sudden the sweet sounds of Beethoven came from next door, followed by a fumbling, and then the sound of a voice answering the ringing phone. As usual for a cell phone conversation, the voice was exactly 8 dB louder than it needed to be. Out of shameful habit, my sphincter slammed shut. The inane conversation went on and on. Mr. Crapper was blathering to Mrs. Crapper about the lousey day he had. I sat there, cramping and miserable, waiting for him to finish. As the loud conversation dragged on, I became angrier and angrier, thinking that I, too, had a crappy day, but I was too polite to yak about in public. My ass let me know in no uncertain terms that if I didn't get crapping soon, my day would be getting even crappier. Finally my anger reached a point that overcame Shamefulness. I no longer cared. I gripped the toilet paper holder with one hand, braced my other hand against the side of the stall, and pushed with all my might. I was rewarded with a fart of colossal magnitude -- a cross between the sound of someone ripping a very wet bed sheet in half and of plywood being torn off a wall. The sound gradually transitioned into a heavily modulated low-RPM tone, not unlike someone firing up a Harley. I managed to hit the resonance frequency of the stall, and it shook gently. Once my a$$ cheeks stopped flapping in the breeze, three things became apparent: (1) The next-door conversation had ceased; (2) my colon's continued seizing indicated that there was more to come; and (3) the bathroom was now beset by a horrible stench. It was as if a gateway to Hell had been opened. The foul miasma quickly made its way under the stall and began choking my poop-mate. This initial "herald" fart had ended his conversation in mid-sentence. "Oh my God," I heard him utter, following it with suppressed sounds of choking, and then, "No, baby, that wasn't me (cough, gag), you could hear that (gag)??" Now there was no stopping me. I pushed for all I was worth. I could swear that in the resulting cacophony of rips, squirts, splashes, poots, and blasts, I was actually lifted slightly off the pot. The amount of stuff in me was incredible. It sprayed against the bowl with tremendous force. Later, in surveying the damage, I'd see that liquid poop had actually managed to ricochet out of the bowl and run down the side on to the floor. But for now, all I could do was hang on for the ride. Next door I could hear him fumbling with the paper dispenser as he desperately tried to finish his task. Little snatches of conversation made themselves heard over my anal symphony: "Gotta go... horrible... throw up...in my mouth... not... make it... tell the kids...love them... oh God..." followed by more sounds of suppressed gagging and retching. Alas, it is evidently difficult to hold one's phone and wipe one's bum at the same time. Just as my high-pressure abuse of the toilet was winding down, I heard a plop and splash from next door, followed by string of swear words and gags. My crap-mate had dropped his phone into the toilet. There was a lull in my production, and the restroom became deathly quiet. I could envision him standing there, wondering what to do. A final anal announcement came trumpeting from my behind, small chunks plopping noisily into the water. That must have been the last straw. I heard a flush, a fumbling with the lock, and then the stall door was thrown open. I heard him running out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. After a considerable amount of paperwork, I got up and surveyed the damage. I felt bad for the janitor who'd be forced to deal with this, but I knew that flushing was not an option. No toilet in the world could handle that unholy mess. Flushing would only lead to a floor flooded with filth. As I left, I glanced into the next-door stall. Nothing remained in the bowl. Had he flushed his phone, or had he plucked it out and left the bathroom with nasty unwashed hands? The world will never know. I exited the bathroom, momentarily proud and shameless, looking around for a face glaring at me. But I saw no one. I suspect that somehow my supernatural elimination has managed to transfer my shamefulness to my anonymous crap-mate. I think it'll be a long time before he can bring himself to crap in public -- and I doubt he'll ever again answer his cell phone in a bathroom. And this, my friends, is why you should never talk on your phone in the bathroom. |
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Re: let's have some fun
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mb
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Now that was funny!!!! |
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Re: let's have some fun
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it was YOU
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That story reminds me of the time I was in the bathroom at the mall, trying to talk to my wife on my cell. Some guy that must've eaten spicy habanero grease and Ex-Lax sandwiches all the previous week came in and commenced to subjecting the poor toilet (and, subsequently, me) to the awfulest abuse you have ever seen or heard about. A nuclear holocaust would have paled by comparison to the light emission, decibel level, shockwave, power surge, or any other criteria. The noise was so bad, my wife was certain someone had just driven a Kenworth into the building, and I was unable to reassure her to the contrary because the shockwave had knocked the wind out of me and the overwhelming stench had rendered me afraid to breathe, much less speak. I actually felt sorry for the toilet. Passing out from asphyxiation would have been a blessing, and the only thing that kept me from doing so was the overpowering urge to vomit. I somehow gathered both of the wits I had left at my disposal, hung up on my wife, and tried with every fiber of my semi consciousness to dial 911 for my sake or my neighbor's. I wasn't sure who was in worse shape, but I was convinced that one, the other, or both were going to die in that bathroom in the next minute or two. Thinking back, if the odiferous emanations from next door were any indication, he was already dead and well on his way to decomposition. Anyway, repeated attempts to dial those three simple, life saving digits were futile, as the effects of the foul atmosphere had incapacitated my faculties to the point that I dropped the phone in the toilet. I had no choice but to crawl/stagger for my life. I have not used a public restroom since that day, and my psychiatrist says the flashbacks and nightmares should subside over time. Glad to hear you survived, buddy. |
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Re: let's have some fun
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Registered: 03/05/2011 Posts: 202 |
Ahh, flaming arrows and pyrodex, THAT'S where we went wrong. Way back in the day my buddy and I decided we wanted to explode a can of Aqua Net with a .22 rifle. We figured that if just a little bit of the stuff was enough to fire a potato cannon, then the entire can should be equivalent to about a stick of dynamite. As it turns out apparently no spark is created when you pierce a steel container with a lead bullet. At least it was entertaining to watch the can flip end over end, propelled by the contents spraying out of the hole like a rocket engine. There's always next time... |
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Re: let's have some fun
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Anonymous User
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The urge to want the blow things up can be hard to control. For my father there was no control. The weapon of choice was a homemade makeshift mortar, a 3ft length of double wall 4 inch pipe with a cap screwed and welded on. The ammo was M 1000 firecrackers (the famed quarter sticks) duck taped to the end of a can of either.
The boom and following fireball was quite the hit. At around dusk was the preferred firing time, the summer air heavy the concussion would roll off the hills and down the hollow for a few seconds after the blast. The fireball was blinding, and watching a flaming twisted shell of a can fly 100 yards through the air was pretty cool for a 8 year old boy. But as memories go the most memorable was the last time it was done. Dad had always used the cheaper gas station starting fluid cans. As it happened to be we were out of them that night. What to do? Well.... I happened to remind him that we have some of the "good" JD 80% either in the tractor. We were set, I made a mad run for the tractor as Dad set up the mortar. It was a kinda well set up rig in a wild farmboy northern MO kinda way. There was an oak 12 by 12 at the base with 2 oak 2x6's going up each side. Two more 2x6's went forward from them to make the front leg. Sort of an improvised tripod set up that had served us well through many firings. I made it back with the can as Dad was wrapping the duct tape around the end of the quarter stick, handed it to him and he taped the either can to it. I know M 1000s were illegal, but one thing I could never understand was why did they put such a short fuse on them? Dad lite the fuse, dropped it down the barrel and the wheels of motion were set in place. We ran back to the "safe" watching distance and waited with anticipation for the boom. Quite the boom it was, the flash was so bright that what had truly happened wasn't discovered until our eyes adjusted back to the dark. Eyes still trying to focus I said to my dad " that was bigger than normal, but it didn't quite sound right", dad looked at me and said I know. Well we walked over to the "mortar" to investigate. The pipe had split by the capped end, broke the weld and stripped the threads off. The oak 12x12 at the base was split into a pile of kindling, and the 2x6s running up the barrel were both split in half where they met the base. Dad and I looked at the carnage in awe, no one was hurt luckily. The next day we were going to build some fence but had to go to town first, the pipe for the mortar also had done double duty as the steel post driver! Well that was the end for the improvised mortar, after that the idea was chalked up on the "don't do it again" list. That didn't stop the urge to make a big boom and fireballs, Dad a few years later went to Dixie Gunworks in TN and bought a replica civil war black power cannon barrel, the booms kept on coming, but that is another story.... |
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Re: let's have some fun
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Those were the days
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The bow and arrow story was some of the best reading I've done for awhile. |
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Re: let's have some fun
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Registered: 03/31/2008 Posts: 762 |
Bryan, my wife had a similar response as I read Smoky's book 'Best D@mn Garge'. Between the war, early NASCAR, Indy, & searching for oil, he had some WILD stories. Hogtown's stories were great too. Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 01/19/2012 05:59AM by Deere Puller. |
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Re: let's have some fun
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great
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I have not laughed this hard for years! This is great |
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Re: let's have some fun
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Anonymous User
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Tools explained....
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- DRILL PRESS: A tall upright machine useful for suddenly snatching flat metal bar stock out of your hands so that it smacks you in the chest and flings your beer across the room, denting the freshly-painted project which you had carefully set in the corner where nothing could get to it. WIRE WHEEL: Cleans paint off bolts and then throws them somewhere under the workbench with the speed of light. Also removes fingerprints and hard-earned calluses from fingers in about the time it takes you to say, 'Oh sh--!' SKIL SAW: A portable cutting tool used to make studs too short. PLIERS: Used to round off bolt heads. Sometimes used in the creation of blood-blisters. BELT SANDER: An electric sanding tool commonly used to convert minor touch-up jobs into major refinishing jobs. HACKSAW: One of a family of cutting tools built on the Ouija board principle... It transforms human energy into a crooked, unpredictable motion, and the more you attempt to influence its course, the more dismal your future becomes. VISE-GRIPS: Generally used after pliers to completely round off bolt heads. If nothing else is available, they can also be used to transfer intense welding heat to the palm of your hand. OXYACETYLENE TORCH: Used almost entirely for lighting various flammable objects in your shop on fire. Also handy for igniting the grease inside the wheel hub out of which you want to remove a bearing race. TABLE SAW: A large stationary power tool commonly used to launch wood projectiles for testing wall integrity. HYDRAULIC FLOOR JACK: Used for lowering an automobile to the ground after you have installed your new brake shoes , trapping the jack handle firmly under the bumper. BAND SAW: A large stationary power saw primarily used by most shops to cut good aluminum sheet into smaller pieces that more easily fit into the trash can after you cut on the inside of the line instead of the outside edge. TWO-TON ENGINE HOIST: A tool for testing the maximum tension strength of everything you forgot to disconnect. PHILLIPS SCREWDRIVER: Normally used to stab the vacuum seals under lids or for opening old-style paper-and-tin oil cans and splashing oil on your shirt; but can also be used, as the name implies, to strip out Phillips screw heads. STRAIGHT SCREWDRIVER: A tool for opening paint cans. Sometimes used to convert common slotted screws into non-removable screws and butchering your palms. PRY BAR: A tool used to crumple the metal surrounding that clip or bracket you needed to remove in order to replace a 50 cent part. HOSE CUTTER: A tool used to make hoses too short. HAMMER: Originally employed as a weapon of war, the hammer nowadays is used as a kind of divining rod to locate the most expensive parts adjacent the object you are trying to hit. UTILITY KNIFE: Used to open and slice through the contents of cardboard cartons delivered to your front door; works particularly well on contents such as seats, vinyl records, liquids in plastic bottles, collector magazines, refund checks, and rubber or plastic parts. Especially useful for slicing work clothes, but only while in use. |
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Re: let's have some fun
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Sven
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e-mail me your phone number, me an Ole gotta meet up vit ewe and do some project together.
Sounds like we think aboot the same! |
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Re: let's have some fun
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farm boy entertainment
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Oh how time travel's so fast as we age memories develop,I can relate to hogtown puller so well,he brings the story's we can all relate too! and safty well that is another thing that becomes more important as we learn and age,At one time I pullled garden tractor's not just your sissyfied mtd I'm talking the more horsepower the better and always looking for the quest of more power a winter project for a new tractor was a cub all chuck vogel engine parts alcohol and nitro was the fuel of choice transfering the power through a vw clutch to the increased gearing into the dart cage and axle assy. the beautiful paint job working right down to the morning of the first pull finally all is ready time to fire this toy up this stinking dirty varmit will not start yep its getting plenty of fuel,yes it has fire,ok enough of this i'll just have my brother pull start it with his 3 wheeler!!!!!!! kids do not try this without proper supervision... the rope was tied on out on the road we went,put it in 3rd gear push in on the clutch and pull it up the road we went and got up to speed,now shi@@@@### is going to happen I worked all night to finish this agrivating piece of well you know,poped the clutch out,it fired instantly took off! fast!pushed in on the clutch ,were going faster wide open,the throttle is stuck wide open the clutch pressure plate fingers went on vacation,when i passed that damn 3 wheeler it was like it was standing still until the slack in the rope ran out,the 3 wheeler did a 360 things happed a little fast so the details are sketchy at this point just wheir my brother landed i am not sure of the cub went in the ditch i wound up getting thrown up aginst a board fence,the cub had the front axle sheared off 44mm carb torn off,clutch exploded body damage and that 3 wheeler sitting on top of it,so we still got a pull to go to and that tractor aint a gonna be their,the old tractor is sitting in the shop but yep that piece of junk has the rear end out of it no problem we still got time carry the wreck in with the tractor and loader take the rear end out of it and put it in the other,no it would be easire just to pull the diff cage and axles and put in the other one,ok wrenches flying in no time upon completition fired the old tractor up to load it poped in into 2nd gear and that damn thing took off BACKWARDS oh @#$%& i put the cage in backwards it ok going on 30 hours with no sleep,take this sumbitch apart again and correct the f### up,finally.got to the pull,pulled and won that day it was a good pull,after the pull beer was consumed,a port a potty was upset with a guy in it ahh yes the memories. |
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Re: let's have some fun
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scoop shovel trick
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Have you ever tried the old scoop shovel trick,tie a rope on the scoop shovel and get in the road ditch late at night after the bar closes ,,the headlights hit the scoop shovel and the driver stops and you pull the shovel off the road and the ole drunk stagers all arounf looking for the scoop shovel while you are in the ditch hiding,works great until you have pulled this trick off on ole cliff one to many a time he speeds the car up and runs over dad's brand new shovel.dads pissed! |
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Registered: 07/06/2010 Posts: 147 |
I NOMINATE SVEN, OLE, AND HOGTOWN AS ANNOUNCERS AT ALL PULLS, THATS QUALITY ENTERTAINMENT !!!
thanks for the laughs. |
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Re: let's have some fun
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Anonymous User
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Understanding The Government - Stimulus 101
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It's a slow day in the small town of Pumphandle and the streets are deserted. Times are tough, everybody is in debt, and everybody is living on credit. A tourist visiting the area drives through town, stops at the motel, and lays a $100 bill on the desk saying he wants to inspect the rooms upstairs to pick one for the night. As soon as he walks upstairs, the motel owner grabs the bill and runs next door to pay his debt to the butcher. (Stay with this.....and pay attention) The butcher takes the $100 and runs down the street to retire his debt to the pig farmer. The pig farmer takes the $100 and heads off to pay his bill to his supplier, the Co-op. The guy at the Co-op takes the $100 and runs to pay his debt to the local prostitute, who has also been facing hard times and has had to offer her "services" on credit. The hooker rushes to the hotel and pays off her room bill with the hotel owner. (Almost done...keep reading) The hotel proprietor then places the $100 back on the counter so the traveler will not suspect anything. At that moment the traveler comes down the stairs, states that the rooms are not satisfactory, picks up the $100 bill and leaves. No one produced anything. No one earned anything. However, the whole town now thinks that they are out of debt and there is a false atmosphere of optimism and glee. And that, my friends, is how a "stimulus package" works! |
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Re: let's have some fun
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The Red Toe Nail Princess (aka The Puller's Wife) and The Puller are rolling on the floor laughing at your post. As always, though, there is a little bit of truth in every joke. Thank you Pickle! |
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Re: let's have some fun
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Anonymous User
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Being an old motorhead, when a parts washer or cleaner was not available my grandfather and I would always wash our old engine parts in a pan filled with gasoline. It does a great job of cleaning the rust and oil off of the items but it is not the cheapest and safest item to use. Let me explain some of the dangers. Hopefully no one from PETA is logged in.
While cleaning engine parts for a resto we were doing, his dog a small black poodle always used to rub itself in the grass where the gas had spilled. I'm sure there was some kind of high he probably got from it. Well this particular day we had left the pan by the garage after we finished but hadn't disposed of it yet. We had just backed the car out and we were walking back when we noticed the poodle was drinking from the pan filled with gas. We ran to stop him him but it was too late. The dog had ingested some gas and was shaking his head back and forth. When I went to get the dog to make sure he was okay, he took off running like he was insane. That dog ran around that yard at full tilt for like two minutes and I couldn't stop him. He ran and ran and ran. Finally what seemed like 5 minutes, he just ran to the corner of the yard and fell over motionless. DID IT KILL HIM??!!! Nah, He just RAN OUT OF GAS!! LOL! |
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Re: let's have some fun
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Anonymous User
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It was a few minutes before the services started. The congregation was seated in the pews and talking quietly. Without warning, Satan appeared at the front of the church. Everyone started screaming and running for an exit, trampling each other in a frantic effort to get away from evil incarnate. Soon everyone had exited the church except for one elderly gentleman. The man sat calmly, seemingly oblivious to the fact that God’s ultimate enemy was in front of him.
Satan walked right up to the old man and said, “Do you know who I am? The man replied, “Yes, I sure do.” “Aren’t you afraid of me?” Satan asked. “No, sure ain’t.” said the old gentleman. “Do you know I can kill you with a single word?”, asked Satan. “I don’t doubt it for a minute,” replied the old man, in an even tone. “Don’t you realize that I could cause you profound, horrifying agony for all eternity?” persisted Satan. “Yes,” was the calm reply. “And yet you’re still not afraid?” asked Satan. “Nope,” replied the man. More than a little perturbed, Satan asked, “Well then, why aren’t you afraid of me”? The old man looked Satan right in the eye and replied, “I’ve been married to your sister for 52 years.” |
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Re: let's have some fun
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Anonymous User
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Warning - New Info on Shampoos!
I just discovered this important info below. Please share with all your friends. I don't know WHY I didn't figure this out sooner!!!!! It's the shampoo I use in the shower! When I wash my hair, the shampoo runs down my whole body, and (duh!) Printed very clearly on the shampoo label is this warning, "FOR EXTRA VOLUME AND BODY." No WONDER I have been gaining weight!!! Well! I have gotten rid of that shampoo and I am going to start using Dawn dish soap instead. Its label reads, "DISSOLVES FAT THAT IS OTHERWISE DIFFICULT TO REMOVE." Problem solved! If I don't answer the phone . . . I'll be in the shower! |
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Re: let's have some fun
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Anonymous User
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OBITUARY Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for Sure how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape. He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as: Knowing when to come in out of the rain; why the early bird gets the worm; Life isn't always fair; and Maybe it was my fault. Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies don't spend more than you can earn) and reliable strategies (adults, not Children, are in charge). His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a 6-year- old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; And a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition. Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining their unruly children. It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer Tylenol, sun lotion or a band-aid to a student; but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion. Common Sense lost the will to live as the Ten Commandments became contraband; churches became businesses; and criminals Received better treatment than their victims. Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar could sue you for assault. Common Sense finally gave up the will to live, after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her lap, and was promptly awarded a huge settlement. Common Sense was preceded in death by his parents, Truth and Trust; his wife, Discretion; his daughter, Responsibility; and his son, Reason. He is survived by his 3 step brothers; I Know My Rights, Someone Else Is To Blame, and I am A Victim. Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone. |
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Re: let's have some fun
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Hey Pickle . . . We have been buying that volumizing shampoo for years! Now I know what is happening around this place. Just sent The Puller to Sam's Club. They sell that Dawn Dish Soap by the gallon. In fact they have a 'special deal' goin' on right now . . . two gallons for the price of one!! I'm fillin' up the Hot Tub while The Puller is shopping. We are going to bubble it up . . . bet that will get rid of the disgusting grease around here.
hee hee hee |
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Re: let's have some fun
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Anonymous User
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Hogtown puller, you really know how to tell a story! You might want to consider writing stories or doing stand-up. Good stuff, keep em coming. |
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Re: let's have some fun
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Anonymous User
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These aren't mine, they are some that I think will make everyone have a more enjoyable day. Thanks for the compliment's,
Dane Pickerell |
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Re: let's have some fun
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Anonymous User
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Bart strolled into a jewelry store on a Friday evening with an attractive blonde at his side. He told the jeweler he was looking for a special ring for his companion.
The jeweler looked through his stock and brought out a $5,000 ring. Shaking his head, Bart said, "I'd like to see something more special." With $$$$ in his eyes, the jeweler went to his special stock and brought another ring over. "Here's a stunning ring at only $40,000," he said. The woman's eyes sparkled and her whole body trembled with excitement. Smiling fondly at the blonde, Bart said decisively, "We'll take it." The jeweler asked how payment would be made and Bart stated, "By check. I know you need to make sure my check clears so I'll write it now, and you can call the bank on Monday morning to verify the funds and I'll pickup the ring Monday afternoon." On Monday morning, the jeweler phoned Bart and nervously said, "Sir, your bank just advised me there are insufficient funds in your account to cover your check." "Yeah, I know," said Bart, "But I had a real good weekend." |
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Re: let's have some fun
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Anonymous User
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A lawyer was pheasant hunting and he shot and dropped a bird. It fell into a cattle pasture on the other side of the fence. As the lawyer climbed over the fence, an elderly cattle buyer drove up and asked the lawyer what he was doing.
The lawyer responded, "What the Hell does it look like I'm doing? I shot a pheasant and it fell in this pasture and now I'm going to retrieve it." The cattle buyer replied, "I don't care for your attitude. This is my property and I want you gone." The indignant lawyer said, "I'm one of the best trial attorneys in the country and if you don't let me get that pheasant, I'll sue you for everything you own." The cattle buyer said, "Apparently you don't know how we settle disputes around here. We settle small disagreements like this with the Three Kick Rule." The lawyer asked, "What's that?" The cattle buyer replied, "Well, because the dispute occured on my land, first I kick you three times and then you kick me three times and so on, back and forth, until someone gives up." The attorney thought about the proposed contest and decided that he could easily take the old codger. He agreed to abide by the local custom. The old cattle buyer slowly climbed out of his pickup and walked up to the attorney. His first kick planted the toe of his heavy steel-toed work boot into the lawyer's groin and dropped him to his knees. His second kick to the midriff sent the lawyer's last meal gushing from his mouth. The barrister was on all fours when the cattle buyer's third kick to his rear end sent him face-first into a fresh cow pie. The lawyer summoned every bit of his will and managed to get to his feet. Wiping his face with the arm of his jacket, he said, "Okay, you old coot. Now it's my turn." The cattle buyer smiled and said, "Naw, I give up... You can have the pheasant." |
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Re: let's have some fun
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Anonymous User
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The mayor was on his way home from work at City Hall when traffic came to a complete stop near the fairgrounds, where the state fair was taking place. The mayor saw a State Trooper walking between the lines of cars, so he rolled down his window and asked, "Officer, what's the problem?"
The trooper replied, "It's a cattle buyer, Sir. He's so depressed about the lack of respect he receives, and his life in general, that he stopped his car right outside the fairgrounds and is threatening to douse himself with gasoline and set himself on fire. The ranchers in the halted cars along the expressway are taking up a collection for him." "Oh really," replied the mayor, "How much have they collected so far?" "About 300 gallons," said the trooper... "But they're still siphoning." |
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Re: let's have some fun, not good practice, but funny anyhow
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Anonymous User
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The tractor pull was over and a Highway Patrolman noticed that a big group of pullers were congregating at a local bar. He returned at closing time confident that he would make a bust. Sure enough, when the bar closed, the pullers started staggering outside to head home.
The patrolman's attention immediately focused on one particular puller who was so obviously inebriated that he could barely walk. He stumbled around the parking lot for a few minutes looking for his truck. After trying his keys on five other trucks, he finally found his own vehicle. He sat in the truck a good ten minutes as the other tractor pullers left. He turned his lights on, then off, wipers on, then off. Finally, when he was the last truck, he started to drive away. The patrolman swooped in and pulled the tractor puller over. He administered a breathalyzer test and was astounded when the device registered a 0.00 reading. "This equipment must be broken!" exclaimed the patrolman. "I doubt it," said the puller... "It was my turn to be the Designated Decoy." |
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