Insensitive
10-31-2004, 11:31 AM
#501
florida! finally
Join Date: Dec 2002
Location: clearwater fl
Age: 42
Posts: 4,882
Re: Insensitive
wow....this was one very intertaining thread...I can relate so much is scary, This thread is one of the best and should never die......
keep em coming.......
when ever ya got them...
keep em coming.......
when ever ya got them...
11-04-2004, 03:11 PM
#506
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Re: Insensitive
I've been trying to move, but The Man keeps holding me down. My parents actually shipped out for Florida on Monday. It's funny how I live 40 miles away from my parents, but when they move, I have to do more work than if I lived there.
My parents have been planning on moving down there for probably six months. Old Gma lives down there, and I guess they figure the old bird is going to buy the farm, so they kicked it in gear. They bought a house down there like four months ago, and have been trying to get down there since. Well for the last two months, all I've heard about is how they've packed all there stuff up, and they just need me to get my stuff out of there. Like all my s.hit is preventing them from packing theirs. Two f.ucking months I been listening to them bitch about MY STUFF being in their way.
Now you got to understand my father. This is a man that if he isn't bitching about how much work he's already done, he's bitching about how much work he has to do. He's always got some horrendous chore that he HAS to complete. Yet, I can't ever recall him doing a God damn thing. My father was born to be management. His eternal pose is standing half cocked to one side, smoke in one hand, coffee in the other. Always just standing and bitching, smoking and bitching. He's always got an excuse why you have to do something for him, and for someone who is not hip to the jive, you might get sucked into laboring for him endlessly. Not me though, boy. I tell you what, I learned when I was still in short pants. When I was little, my dad would con me into wrenching on his trucks and bikes and lawnmowers, anything. His excuse? Because I had little hands that got in tight spaces. And this is twenty four hours a day. All day. I had to move out of that house to get some peace.
So when he said he had all his stuff packed already, I knew better. Last Saturday was the big day. Moving truck would be there Sunday to load. When I got there, my father immediately had me loading a pickup truck with miscellaneous s.hit he sold to some poor sucker. I brought my roommate Brett to help with the hysteria. Poor Brett got sucked in right off the bat. I stood strong, and when my dad asked me to go in the house and do something, I pleaded with him to let me go crack a kidney. I mean, my bladder was about to explode, I HAVE TO GO TAKE A **** (yes I was drinking at 9 in the morning, so what?). So I snuck out back and hid in the garage all day. I had to get my 79 Olds running to bring it to my house. Perfect excuse, that should kill twelve or thirteen hours. So all day I sat in the garage getting snot-faced drunk. Sneak to the shed for a toke, hit the head for a bump. I got to sit there and watch my dad make everyone else work. I think he somehow got the neighbors in on it (probably excited to see him go). I'd go inside and cause confusion every now and then, steal the packing tape, letting the dogs run wild, making a sandwich while cleaning the fridge. And slide right back outside. You see, the key is just to ignore them. They tell you to do something, just say "I'm on it" and go do whatever the f.*** you want. What's hard about that?
Minutes for monkeys, Monday night at midnight, I'm pulling the last trailer of my junk out their yard. That's three full days to move them, and they were supposed to be packed. Right. Three days to move them. Other than that, I've just been busy here at work. Busy getting high in the bathroom. I'm supposed to be training a new person. Come to find out, this new person is going to be paid more than me. F.*** YOU!
Hippie chick, eh? Hmmm........ what are the words I'm looking for? ..............Slam pig? Yeah that works. One of the most annoying girls I've deflowered. She would talk with stupid accents and **** sometimes, and tried to be "intellectual", ha! Like I said, she had dirty feet. You don't get in my bed with my white sheets with dirty feet. I made her get in the bathtub and wash her feet. Why doesn't anyone believe that? So I made the bitch wash her feet, is that strange? Should have made her take a f.ucking shower cause there was a mysterious odor coming from her upper lip.
Oh yeah, got over my problem with B. Turns out I was probably just doing too many drugs. The flight comes in from a two month bender and my dick starts working again! Imagine that! New problem, I got hardwood floors now and the bed likes to go for a walk across the room.
My parents have been planning on moving down there for probably six months. Old Gma lives down there, and I guess they figure the old bird is going to buy the farm, so they kicked it in gear. They bought a house down there like four months ago, and have been trying to get down there since. Well for the last two months, all I've heard about is how they've packed all there stuff up, and they just need me to get my stuff out of there. Like all my s.hit is preventing them from packing theirs. Two f.ucking months I been listening to them bitch about MY STUFF being in their way.
Now you got to understand my father. This is a man that if he isn't bitching about how much work he's already done, he's bitching about how much work he has to do. He's always got some horrendous chore that he HAS to complete. Yet, I can't ever recall him doing a God damn thing. My father was born to be management. His eternal pose is standing half cocked to one side, smoke in one hand, coffee in the other. Always just standing and bitching, smoking and bitching. He's always got an excuse why you have to do something for him, and for someone who is not hip to the jive, you might get sucked into laboring for him endlessly. Not me though, boy. I tell you what, I learned when I was still in short pants. When I was little, my dad would con me into wrenching on his trucks and bikes and lawnmowers, anything. His excuse? Because I had little hands that got in tight spaces. And this is twenty four hours a day. All day. I had to move out of that house to get some peace.
So when he said he had all his stuff packed already, I knew better. Last Saturday was the big day. Moving truck would be there Sunday to load. When I got there, my father immediately had me loading a pickup truck with miscellaneous s.hit he sold to some poor sucker. I brought my roommate Brett to help with the hysteria. Poor Brett got sucked in right off the bat. I stood strong, and when my dad asked me to go in the house and do something, I pleaded with him to let me go crack a kidney. I mean, my bladder was about to explode, I HAVE TO GO TAKE A **** (yes I was drinking at 9 in the morning, so what?). So I snuck out back and hid in the garage all day. I had to get my 79 Olds running to bring it to my house. Perfect excuse, that should kill twelve or thirteen hours. So all day I sat in the garage getting snot-faced drunk. Sneak to the shed for a toke, hit the head for a bump. I got to sit there and watch my dad make everyone else work. I think he somehow got the neighbors in on it (probably excited to see him go). I'd go inside and cause confusion every now and then, steal the packing tape, letting the dogs run wild, making a sandwich while cleaning the fridge. And slide right back outside. You see, the key is just to ignore them. They tell you to do something, just say "I'm on it" and go do whatever the f.*** you want. What's hard about that?
Minutes for monkeys, Monday night at midnight, I'm pulling the last trailer of my junk out their yard. That's three full days to move them, and they were supposed to be packed. Right. Three days to move them. Other than that, I've just been busy here at work. Busy getting high in the bathroom. I'm supposed to be training a new person. Come to find out, this new person is going to be paid more than me. F.*** YOU!
Hippie chick, eh? Hmmm........ what are the words I'm looking for? ..............Slam pig? Yeah that works. One of the most annoying girls I've deflowered. She would talk with stupid accents and **** sometimes, and tried to be "intellectual", ha! Like I said, she had dirty feet. You don't get in my bed with my white sheets with dirty feet. I made her get in the bathtub and wash her feet. Why doesn't anyone believe that? So I made the bitch wash her feet, is that strange? Should have made her take a f.ucking shower cause there was a mysterious odor coming from her upper lip.
Oh yeah, got over my problem with B. Turns out I was probably just doing too many drugs. The flight comes in from a two month bender and my dick starts working again! Imagine that! New problem, I got hardwood floors now and the bed likes to go for a walk across the room.
Last edited by od1nixer; 11-04-2004 at 03:14 PM.
11-04-2004, 04:12 PM
#508
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Re: Insensitive
Originally Posted by Angel Of Death
Nice dude, I had a 79 Cutlass/260 best car I ever owned!
11-04-2004, 04:13 PM
#509
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Re: Insensitive
Originally Posted by od1nixer
Ahh memories. Why don't you relive them? Buy this car, I need money..........now! I'm seriously in some financial trouble. I need the cash, it's a Hurst Olds Cutlass CAlais w-30, didn't we talk about this already?
04-20-2005, 05:27 PM
#518
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Join Date: Jun 2003
Location: Madison, WI
Age: 43
Posts: 1,245
Re: Insensitive
Just stumbled across this thread today - damn good reading.
I've got a good psycho story to share with you all, but I'm outta here for the day so It'll have to wait until tomorrow!!!
I've got a good psycho story to share with you all, but I'm outta here for the day so It'll have to wait until tomorrow!!!
04-20-2005, 08:25 PM
#519
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Join Date: Jun 2003
Location: Madison, WI
Age: 43
Posts: 1,245
Re: Insensitive
Wow - I just read the entire 27 pages of this thread this afternoon. And, after reading all that, I now see that any psycho story I can tell won't even hold a candle to any of od1nixers' stories.
But for ***** and giggles and stirring up the pot, I'll let er rip -
So it's spring of last year and it's finally getting nice out and I want to ride but my bike won't start. Call up my boys for help and they're all too busy riding to come up and help me but they find someone who will and send him on up. Low and behold, this helper and I really hit it off. At the time we met, we were both dating other people, but both relationships were on their way out, so that's just a minor detail. On to the good psychotic stuff. So this guy and I start dating and we're getting to know each other. He tells me that he was in the Marines and got out because he got shot - 17 times matter of fact. So being in the Marines I believe. Getting shot? I'm sorta skeptical. 17 Times? Bullshit meter is on high. I know it's BS, but it's not worth the time or energy to question and hear the bullshit that he has to 'back it up.' The man has also been married and his wife tragically passed away in a car accident just a few months after they were married. I'm thinking man, rough life so far. He also attended the same college as I did, in a very short amount of time, supposedly.
Long and short of it is we get along pretty well with the exception of what I take to be gross exaggeration of fact. Whatever. Then he gets a call to go overseas as a contractor in Iraq. He says he can make some real big money in just a few months. I don't want him to go, but I'm not the type to stop someone from doing something they feel they need to do. So he goes overseas. Meanwhile, I'm taking care of his place, and his bills (with his checkbook) while he's gone. So it's been a few weeks with him gone and I'm hanging out with some mutual friends, drinking a few miller lights when I mention that I want to get him a puppy when he gets back. Friends suggest that I clear it with his landlord first. Landlord? What landlord? He owns the duplex and the lady next door rents from him, right? Uh, No. He rents. So I'm thinking, WTF? So we talk some more... and come to find out... the lying SOB has never been in the Military and IS STILL MARRIED. (For all of those of you who are in the service I suggest, should you ever meet ithe sorry *******, you beat his *** for lying about it) And those are just the three biggies the make the top of a very, very long list of lies.
So being the nice, non psychotic female that I am I tell him that he's a lying SOB and that we're through. I also inform him that I will not **** up his life entirely and will continue to pay the bills and not rip him off while he's 3,000 miles away and can't do **** about it.
Why I'm so nice, I don't know.
When he got back he sent me some money for taking care of things while he was gone. I was still so pissed off that I put it right back in an envelope and sent it right back to him. Figured if that didn't say "**** YOU", what does?
But for ***** and giggles and stirring up the pot, I'll let er rip -
So it's spring of last year and it's finally getting nice out and I want to ride but my bike won't start. Call up my boys for help and they're all too busy riding to come up and help me but they find someone who will and send him on up. Low and behold, this helper and I really hit it off. At the time we met, we were both dating other people, but both relationships were on their way out, so that's just a minor detail. On to the good psychotic stuff. So this guy and I start dating and we're getting to know each other. He tells me that he was in the Marines and got out because he got shot - 17 times matter of fact. So being in the Marines I believe. Getting shot? I'm sorta skeptical. 17 Times? Bullshit meter is on high. I know it's BS, but it's not worth the time or energy to question and hear the bullshit that he has to 'back it up.' The man has also been married and his wife tragically passed away in a car accident just a few months after they were married. I'm thinking man, rough life so far. He also attended the same college as I did, in a very short amount of time, supposedly.
Long and short of it is we get along pretty well with the exception of what I take to be gross exaggeration of fact. Whatever. Then he gets a call to go overseas as a contractor in Iraq. He says he can make some real big money in just a few months. I don't want him to go, but I'm not the type to stop someone from doing something they feel they need to do. So he goes overseas. Meanwhile, I'm taking care of his place, and his bills (with his checkbook) while he's gone. So it's been a few weeks with him gone and I'm hanging out with some mutual friends, drinking a few miller lights when I mention that I want to get him a puppy when he gets back. Friends suggest that I clear it with his landlord first. Landlord? What landlord? He owns the duplex and the lady next door rents from him, right? Uh, No. He rents. So I'm thinking, WTF? So we talk some more... and come to find out... the lying SOB has never been in the Military and IS STILL MARRIED. (For all of those of you who are in the service I suggest, should you ever meet ithe sorry *******, you beat his *** for lying about it) And those are just the three biggies the make the top of a very, very long list of lies.
So being the nice, non psychotic female that I am I tell him that he's a lying SOB and that we're through. I also inform him that I will not **** up his life entirely and will continue to pay the bills and not rip him off while he's 3,000 miles away and can't do **** about it.
Why I'm so nice, I don't know.
When he got back he sent me some money for taking care of things while he was gone. I was still so pissed off that I put it right back in an envelope and sent it right back to him. Figured if that didn't say "**** YOU", what does?
