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When I was a kid I accidentally set a tree on fire in my backyard
Posted on 7/4/18 at 4:04 am
Posted on 7/4/18 at 4:04 am
In my backyard I had two trees that were old and infirm, and I was a bit of an unhinged pyromaniac. I used to spray axe deodorant on the school bathroom floor and light it with a Zippo cuz I thought it was funny.
Anyway, one day I decided I wanted to shoot bottlerockets for the 4th of July. So this tree has a hole in the trunk that's pretty sizeable. Squirrels and other furry varmint used to love to use it to stare down and mock the dogs. Well I lit some bottle rockets and shot them up the trunk.
I was young and stupid and didn't think about the consequences of what I was doing. Technically I still don't today. I kept doing this for several hours, probably burnt through a whole gross of black cats. Eventually I got bored of this and went back to opening entire grosses of bottlerockets and collecting the black powder for my supply. I had ziplock bags full of the stuff.
Then I went back inside for dinner and forgot all about it. Hours later the tree was on fire, I think it must have been dry on the inside and slowly lit up thanks to fireworks. I was young so I slept though, slept through the whole thing while my dad and brother put the fire out with a fire hose. They told me all about it in the morning. Was wild shite.
Anyway, one day I decided I wanted to shoot bottlerockets for the 4th of July. So this tree has a hole in the trunk that's pretty sizeable. Squirrels and other furry varmint used to love to use it to stare down and mock the dogs. Well I lit some bottle rockets and shot them up the trunk.
I was young and stupid and didn't think about the consequences of what I was doing. Technically I still don't today. I kept doing this for several hours, probably burnt through a whole gross of black cats. Eventually I got bored of this and went back to opening entire grosses of bottlerockets and collecting the black powder for my supply. I had ziplock bags full of the stuff.
Then I went back inside for dinner and forgot all about it. Hours later the tree was on fire, I think it must have been dry on the inside and slowly lit up thanks to fireworks. I was young so I slept though, slept through the whole thing while my dad and brother put the fire out with a fire hose. They told me all about it in the morning. Was wild shite.
This post was edited on 7/4/18 at 4:05 am
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Posted on 7/4/18 at 4:17 am to CockCommander
I chopped a cherry tree down in mount vernon.
Posted on 7/4/18 at 8:22 am to CockCommander
I sadistically killed most of the neighborhood pets.
Posted on 7/4/18 at 8:28 am to CockCommander
In kindergarten there was a kid everybody hated. I told another kid to pee in his thermos and put it back in his lunch box. He did it and the kid drank some of it. My associate snitched on me and I got beat pretty bad.
When my grandfather was a kid he and his friends lit the county fairgrounds, or at least the baseball field that was there, on fire and it burnt up pretty bad...then when he was in high school he hit a foul ball that hit a transformer and knocked out power to the whole fairgrounds. He still doesn't go back there.
When my grandfather was a kid he and his friends lit the county fairgrounds, or at least the baseball field that was there, on fire and it burnt up pretty bad...then when he was in high school he hit a foul ball that hit a transformer and knocked out power to the whole fairgrounds. He still doesn't go back there.
This post was edited on 7/4/18 at 8:30 am
Posted on 7/4/18 at 9:01 am to CockCommander
I remember I was hammering on a fence in the backyard when Dad approached. He was carrying a letter or something in his hand, and he looked worried. I continued to hammer as he came toward me. "Son," he said, "why are you hammering on that fence? It already has plenty of nails in it."
"Oh, I'm not using nails," I replied. "I'm just hammering." With that, I returned to my hammering. Dad asked me to stop hammering, as he had some news. I did stop hammering, but first I got a couple more hammers in, and this seemed to make Dad mad. "I said, stop hammering!" he yelled. I think he felt bad for yelling at me, especially since it looked like he had bad news. "Look," he said, "you can hammer later, but first--"
Well, I didn't even wait to hear the rest. As soon as I heard "You can hammer," that's what I started doing. Hammering away, happy as an old hammer dog. Dad tried to physically stop me from hammering by inserting a small log of some sort between my hammer and the fence. But I just kept on hammering, 'cause that's the way I am when I get that hammer going. Then, he just grabbed my arm and and made me stop. "I'm afraid I have some news for you," he said.
I swear, what I did next was not hammering. I was just letting the hammer swing lazily at arm's length, and maybe it tapped the fence once or twice, but that's all. That apparently didn't make any difference whatsoever to Dad, because he just grabbed my hammer out of my hand and flung it across the field. And when I saw my hammer flying helplessly through the air like that I just couldn't take it. I burst out crying, I admit it. And I ran to the house, as fast as my legs could take me. "Son, come back!" yelled Dad. "What about your hammer?!"
But I could not have cared less about hammering at that point. I ran into the house and flung myself onto my bed, pounding the bed with my fists. I pounded and pounded, until finally, behind me, I heard a voice. "As long as you're pounding, why not use this?" I turned, and it was Dad, holding a brand-new solid-gold hammer. I quickly wiped the tears from my eyes and ran to Dad's outstretched arms. But suddenly, he jumped out of the way, and I went sailing through the second-story window behind him.
Whenever I hear about a kid getting in trouble with the drugs, I like to tell him this story.
"Oh, I'm not using nails," I replied. "I'm just hammering." With that, I returned to my hammering. Dad asked me to stop hammering, as he had some news. I did stop hammering, but first I got a couple more hammers in, and this seemed to make Dad mad. "I said, stop hammering!" he yelled. I think he felt bad for yelling at me, especially since it looked like he had bad news. "Look," he said, "you can hammer later, but first--"
Well, I didn't even wait to hear the rest. As soon as I heard "You can hammer," that's what I started doing. Hammering away, happy as an old hammer dog. Dad tried to physically stop me from hammering by inserting a small log of some sort between my hammer and the fence. But I just kept on hammering, 'cause that's the way I am when I get that hammer going. Then, he just grabbed my arm and and made me stop. "I'm afraid I have some news for you," he said.
I swear, what I did next was not hammering. I was just letting the hammer swing lazily at arm's length, and maybe it tapped the fence once or twice, but that's all. That apparently didn't make any difference whatsoever to Dad, because he just grabbed my hammer out of my hand and flung it across the field. And when I saw my hammer flying helplessly through the air like that I just couldn't take it. I burst out crying, I admit it. And I ran to the house, as fast as my legs could take me. "Son, come back!" yelled Dad. "What about your hammer?!"
But I could not have cared less about hammering at that point. I ran into the house and flung myself onto my bed, pounding the bed with my fists. I pounded and pounded, until finally, behind me, I heard a voice. "As long as you're pounding, why not use this?" I turned, and it was Dad, holding a brand-new solid-gold hammer. I quickly wiped the tears from my eyes and ran to Dad's outstretched arms. But suddenly, he jumped out of the way, and I went sailing through the second-story window behind him.
Whenever I hear about a kid getting in trouble with the drugs, I like to tell him this story.
Posted on 7/4/18 at 11:06 am to MeatCleaverWeaver
quote:
I sadistically killed most of the neighborhood pets
quote:
MeatCleaverWeaver
Checks out.
Posted on 7/4/18 at 11:13 am to olddawg26
quote:
olddawg26
Damn you. I read the whole thing.
Posted on 7/6/18 at 1:21 pm to MeatCleaverWeaver
quote:
I sadistically killed most of the neighborhood pets.
I shot my step dad’s chickens. Also poured water from a garden hose into a gas tank of a random car.
Posted on 7/6/18 at 1:54 pm to jangalang
Me and my friends used to make "mystery buckets".
It's where you take stuff from the fridge, the chemical closet, and all 4 bodily fluids and mix it all in a five gallon bucket and then around midnight throw it on the windshield of a neighbors car.
We went for a walk the next morning once and saw a guy spraying a turd off his windshield.
It's where you take stuff from the fridge, the chemical closet, and all 4 bodily fluids and mix it all in a five gallon bucket and then around midnight throw it on the windshield of a neighbors car.
We went for a walk the next morning once and saw a guy spraying a turd off his windshield.
Posted on 7/6/18 at 2:42 pm to hogNsinceReagan
My wife’s grandfather has been telling me a bunch of stories of his childhood. He’s on his deathbed pretty much and living on his life’s highlight-reel. He told me a story about how he plucked the heads off his neighbor’s 26 baby chicks resulting in his dad beating the tar out of him and his dad having to pay the neighbor for the chickens that he killed. The grandfather is nice as one can be, but when he told me that story, I couldn’t help but to think he had to be a psyopathic little shite growing up. Yeah I shot chickens but I didn’t decapitate them.
Posted on 7/11/18 at 1:27 pm to olddawg26
What was the news your dad had for you?
Posted on 7/11/18 at 10:50 pm to miamitiger
That I liked jack handey way too much
Posted on 7/12/18 at 7:40 am to olddawg26
Thank you for that...now this is stuck in my mind...
quote:
If you go through a lot of hammers each month, I don't think it necessarily means you're a hard worker. It may just mean that you have a lot to learn about proper hammer maintenance. -- Deep Thoughts, by Jack Handey
Posted on 7/12/18 at 12:50 pm to olddawg26
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