Thread "The Daring YOU" in forum "Comic Talk and General Discussion *"

Posted at 11:04AM, Apr. 10, 2011

True story time. Subject: outrageous act/s you have committed? Do tell.

I have a couple stories, two I especially like to re-tell, if only because few would suspect it of me. You see, my manner is pretty similar to my voice, and there's the ha ha. Ha ha HA HA. Mwa ha ha! – but you know, in my little lady-like voice.

So this story is about how I first came to the attention of my future husband. At the time, we hadn’t yet met. We were both in college and had joined "the Greeks". His fraternity had a “little sister” program, which I had joined.

One very dull Sat night, I got a call from the prez of the little sisters who had theoretically scoped out the fraternity and found it practically empty: a perfect opportunity for Prank Night. So I joined them, altogether maybe 10 of us, armed with instant onion soup mix for the shower heads. Someone brought kaopectate with which to sweeten their milk – and there were a sundry means of devastation for which we were prepared. We were instantly industrious and went about our work methodically (later we learned that we were actually pretty successful with many of our surprises) until one of the brothers came up from the basement. Our intel had not included basement status.

Immediate havoc erupted as the brothers realized that 10 sneaking girls could not be a good thing and they roared to life, screaming threats as they tried to round us up. I hid in corners, dodged a few run-ins, but soon had two of them chasing me the length of the hall way on the second floor that was set up like a dormitory.

I was thoroughly scared at this point. “HELP” I screamed (really meaning it) and suddenly one of the bedroom doors opened and 2 of the other little sisters frantically gestured me in, slamming the door shut with me barely inside, practically in the faces of three of the more furious brothers.

Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit, we matra’d, as the guys were yelling and beating on the other side of the door. “What are they going to Do to us!” gasped Lori. “They sound really mad,” murmured Kim. “I don’t know, and I don’t want to find out!” I said.

We looked around. It was a double bedroom and it had only the one door. No attic access. We opened the window. Yeah, we could get out, but we were on the second floor: too far to jump. But – but wait a second. One of the guys had made a loft bed. I shook the support post and it was sturdy.

“Hey listen,” I said. “We can tie the sheets together, tie them around this post, and go out the window.”

“No one does that for real,” countered Kim. “I dunno,” hesitated Lori.

“WE’RE GOING TO STRIP YOU AND LET YOU WALK HOME NAKED!!!” screamed the voices on the other side of the door.

“Oh Yeah!” I yelled back. I looked at my friends: “I’m doing this.” And while we heard the guys planning to take the door off the hinges, I stripped the beds, knotted the sheets together, tied them to the post, and threw the loose end out the window. It was about 6 or 8 feet shy from touching the ground. There was a bean bag chair, so I threw that out the window for a landing – just in case. And then I went out the window.

I could never climb a rope in gym, but when push came to shove, I could climb a rope made of sheets. Just as I jumped into the bean bag chair, I heard someone shout: “NO!! Wait!” I looked and saw someone on the roof. I didn’t even wait to see if Lori would make it OK (she was about halfway down). I RAN, and kept running until I was home, in my bedroom, slamming the door shut.

Well, as it happened, the someone on the roof was my husband-to-be, and he was crazy worried that we were going to kill ourselves. And, even more coincidentally, it was His bedroom from which I made my escape. Later he told me that he had inspected my handiwork: nice strong square knots (so much so that the sheets were permanently distorted and never washed back into shape), well-chosen post, nice touch with the bean bag chair. Apparently, he surmised, this girl can handle herself in a situation.

Final detail: his roommate, who had made the loft and whose sheets had been destroyed, ended up winning a McDonald’s sweepstakes, something like $500K. He quit school and moved to Colorado, where presumably he didn’t have to wonder about strange girls destroying his room.

Posted at 11:04AM, Apr. 10, 2011

A Yes in Badass.

Posted at 12:04PM, Apr. 10, 2011

Badass.

more like scared ass.

— (wildebeests scowling)

But you didn't tell a story about yourself! Singing in front of a crowd is daring.
I've never entertained in public, other than being the cymbals-girl in the jr high symphony orchestra.

Tell a story!

Posted at 12:04AM, Apr. 11, 2011

That's an awesome story Ayes! :)

Posted at 5:04AM, Apr. 11, 2011

no story of his own

great. a one story thread.

Edit (due to post that follows this one - didn't want to take up yet another post in my own thread):

YAY! Thanks, Oz! yer just one of the most obligin' gents on the internet.

And your story is far more awesome. I acted like one of your mates and ran away. You stuck it through.

Posted at 7:04AM, Apr. 11, 2011

It's hard to recall anything as amazing as that. ^_^
Yours could make a great movie scene!
——————–
For me it's hard since I've told most of my cool stories to DD people already. Can't think of any that bear repeating…
OK, there was the one where I beat the bully with a quick wit. I like that one:

-There was this big, tough, rough Scottish guy who'd just recently come to my school. He was in the year above me and he'd already stayed back a year so he was 2 years older than me. He started hanging out with this small, mean British guy (a year above me) who was also fairly new, and a bit of a gang ringleader. These guys were trying to form a sort a small gang of their own
Anyway, me and my little group of odd-balls happened to be in the wrong area at the wrong time one day. Too late we noticed there were no teachers in sight and not enough friends to back us up. Were were outnumbered: Me and three friends against the Scott, the Brit and all these other older kids they were with - a very large group at that moment

It turned out that the Scott just wanted to pick on me for some reason. So pretty soon everyone was gathered in a big circle, crowding round him and I as he taunted me. I couldn't rely on my friends for help of course, they chickened right out, so I was stuck in the middle with this big, burly, red-faced bully who wanted to physically harm me. He kept on saying he was going to "deck" me, and I had NO idea what that meant, but I definitely didn't want to try it out.

So I did the calculations. I realised I was on my own there, I couldn't let that guy get anywhere close to me and I couldn't take him in any normal fight- so I was going to try and keep it to blocks and kicks, dodging and dancing all the time, staying well out of reach.

As the big fool tried to get a hit on me and kept missing or getting blocked time and time again, he got angrier and redder in the face, telling me that I should fight him properly, not dodge and kick like a pansy. I countered that HE was the one that wanted a fight, not me, and I was only a little guy, two years younger than him as well.
And then I laughed at him… And I noticed that some of the older kids sniggered at him as well.

That's when I saw my chance: I realised that he was just trying show off to them by beating me up and that they weren't really on his side afterall. So I pressed my advantage. I speculated loudly on the reasons that he'd singled me out- perhaps he found me attractive and wanted to have sex with me? He wanted to rape me or something?
And a lot of stuff in that vein… These were extremely homophobic, primitive days back then and any accusations of that nature that you could make stick could REALLY hit home.

I said some really nasty, horrible things about this guy in front of that crowd of his peers, the gay stuff, making fun of him for being stupid and staying down a year, making fun of him for being so cowardly, weak and pathetic that he could only pick on small guys 2 years younger than him… I didn't pull any punches, so to speak. I let myself be as vile, nasty and evil as I possibly could about any subject I could think of to make people laugh at him and make him seem as small as possible.
The funny thing though is that none of it would have worked nearly as well if he didn't have his crowd of watchers. By the end everyone was openly laughing and jeering at him and cheering me on, meanwhile he was crying his eyes out and neither of us had landed a single hit to the body.

Eventually the siren went and we all had to be at our various classes. People dispersed. My faithless friends came back to me and congratulated me- I was just happy to have gotten out of that without being seriously hurt, no thanks to them.
The Scottish guy only had his British friend for support at the end. He was still crying and humiliated when he left for his classes.

In the days after that guy could never make eye contact with me. I would rather have been his friend than his enemy… But that's how things turn out. He was looking to make a good impression with the people in his year and ended up branding himself forever as a fool in their eyes. Which was probably a good thing, it cut short his bully career.

Posted at 8:04PM, Apr. 11, 2011

wow, you guys do indeed have amazing stories. I however, in my short time on this planet, have yet to achieve anything quite as awesome.

——————————————————————————

But I shall tell you the tale of how I nearly died because I was full-hardy enough to beileve I was invincible against a horse, if you like.

When I was six, my mum bought a new horse whom she called Ethan. Now, Ethan was still a foal, despite his size, and was deathly afraid of the colour white (or should I say shade… because white isn't a colour….)

Anywho, I, being the adventerous six year old that I was, didn't care much for rules, so when mother told me sternly, "Don't go into the paddock with the new Horse, he'll mess you up," I didn't take heed. I went to the shed, got the cleanest, whitest bucket I could find which also happened to be roughly my height. After sitting in the backyards toiling away for hours rpiping up grass by its roots, I finally had a bucket full of grass and my six year old brain thought "Grass + Horse = Good times." I climbed over the fence into Ethan's paddock, waving my bucket around screaming things like: "EEETHHHAAANNNN!!!! HOOORRESSSSEEEYYY!!! EETHHHAANNNNN!!!"

Ethan thoroughly believed that I was obviously some kind of demon from the deepest pits of hell, summoned to take him away and torture him in cruel and unusual ways, and promptly freaked out. He began trotting around the paddock frantically snorting and nickering like a madman, and I began running after him, waving my bucket, still crying: "ETHAN I HAVE GRASS FOR YOOUUUU!!"

Now, the next bit I don't quite remember.

I got close enough to Ethan. We exchanged glances, and then all of a sudden, I was on my back, a bucket flying through the air behind me, and Ethan galloping away into the distance. It turned out that I had been kicked squarely in my soft, unprotected chest, and thrown backwards. However, I was obviously the Chuck Norris of Six year olds and no simple earth horse could destroy me, because I got up, picked up my bucket, and continued to run after my horse.

He was going to eat that grass, and he was going to bloody well enjoy it.

I began feeling sick half way through this chase, and mum came out when she heard the commotion. She took me to the doctors straight away, while I continued to say that I was immortal and nothing could kill me. The Doctor said "Ma'am, your daughter is an idiot" though in a nicer and more eleoquent way, and that is the most daring story I have to this date.

Posted at 4:04PM, Apr. 12, 2011

Ok… I have committed alot of mischief when I was younger. I know they're stupid and borderline evil but… it required an amount of being daring I must say.

______________________

1) I clogged all the toilets in one bathroom. Flushed down entire rolls of toilet paper down each toilet.

2) Then in another bathroom I took one roll of toilet paper then I threw it out the window. It got caught by tree branches. So outside the building it looked like a banner.

3) Then in yet another bathroom, I wet toilet paper and threw it up in the ceiling. KER-SPLATT!!! Sometimes one roll at a time. Sometimes just 1 piece at a time then wet then throw up in the ceiling. Until it looked like the moon and the stars. Unless you wanna call that art.

4) Drawing penis and/or vagina with colored chalk… on the back of the bathroom stall doors. One time I did it in the bathroom where the pre-school kids go to. Too early for sex-ed, eh. :)

5) Using soap to draw swastikas , hammer+sickles, cusswords, and gang symbols (the triskelion and various greek letter combinations seems to be a favorite among Filipino gangsters) on the bathroom mirror. Just to piss people off.

6) Throwing stuff at people who are taking a crap. I just threw whatever I can in there. Toilet paper rolls, mops, brooms, (the bigger the better) brushes, bar of soap, empty pails, dirty rags, and one time I threw a pop can in there.

7) Going into empty classrooms and drawing huge penis on the blackboard. That or scribbling death threats or chain cusswords at certain people. One time I got an entire classroom suspended for that. Because the teacher got pissed and nobody in that class admitted it.

8) Pissing or spitting or putting trash into… people's water jugs or school bags.

9) Making stuff disappear and putting them in other people's things… causing many a fistfight.

10) And the "crowning glory" of it all… getting a guy and girl to break up by sending "stalker" type emails that read something like "I know you were in ___ place wearing ___ clothes. You walked into my teritorry. If I see you there again youre gonna get it. And oh, stay away from ______. She's my girl."

These are what I remember. Never got caught. Oh… I actually got caught by a teacher one time after I draw penis on the back of the bathroom stall with a red marker pen. He saw me walk out the bathroom but didnt see me in the act of doing it. I was very scared. I was sat in the principal's office. The principal was really intimidating. He could be a military interrogator.

I barely got away. I done a good job at lying. But man… I learned my lesson.

Posted at 4:04PM, Apr. 12, 2011

@Ozone - Are you an NLP (Neuro-Linguistic-Programming) master by any chance? That was AMAZING!!!

@Onlyfoolsandvikings - I wouldnt have the guts to do that. *bawk bawk bawk BAKEK!!!*