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Things You Only Do Once -


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Slam your fingers in a locked car door when your keys are in your offside pocket. :o

God that hurt!

With your girl friend standing on the other side of the car asking "What's wrong" and not understanding why you won't speak to her as you calmly, ashen faced and verrrry quickly get the keys out of the pocket and into the car door.

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Dale,

I wish it was my GF then I wouldn't have felt so bad having her get the keys. As it was I had to ask a guy I had just met about five minutes before to get them out of my pocket.

Edited by smokshwn
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"Cross your legs before you sit on a chair (don't ask)."
Uh... that's physically kinda hard to do no matter which gender you are.....! :huh:<_<

I know, but the results are completely different :D:mellow:

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On my old 3 wheeled golf cart. Drinking - heavily.... Make a shot from the (deep) rough and throw the cart into reverse, fly backwards at top speed and set up for the reverse Bat Turn (the one with the cool looking slide around to forward with no pause) and cut the wheel hard. The cart flips over on top of me and pins me by one leg to the ground, the seat flying off and the batteries all spill out on my groin up over my chest and neck. The batteries are all wired in series and tied together with the heavy battery cables. I lie on the ground on my back, my right leg under the cart and my left over the steering wheel of the cart with 400 lbs of batteries running acid over me from mid thigh to my chin. My position affords me no leverage to push any the cart off of me. The batteries can't be moved as they are the most awkward weight imaginable and the acid does not take long to start becoming more than a little uncomfortable. I start hollering for my yahoo buddies and of course they, being as inebriated as I, do not realize the gravity of my situation and continue to play on while hooting with laughter. The next foursome (already tired of our foursome's antics on the course) finally drive their carts up and push the cart and batteries off of me. Of course during this the Course Marshall also sees the commotion and makes his appearance on the scene. After the cart and batteries clear my body I realize I am in real pain and hobble (read stagger) wildly across two fairways to the nastiest scum covered water hazard on the course and fall in. I am burned by the acid over most of the front of my body with the most pain (of course) on and around my neither regions.

Off comes my shirt and that is soon followed by my pants - well sort off. I don't pull of my shoes first and get one pant leg turned inside out over the shoe and can not get it off no matter how hard I pull. By this time I have drawn a sizable crowd, who lacking any compassion or common decency, pepper me with catcalls and comments... After washing some of the acid from myself I am assisted (dragged) to the Marshall's cart and "escorted" to the clubhouse and asked to leave the premises with a request that I not return.

My friends are still playing. The course Marshall drives across the course till he locates them and a huge argument ensues about whether he can/should run them off also because their fellow player is an idiot. After what seems hours my buddies show up at the clubhouse and the guy I am riding with refuses to let me ride in the cab of his new Silverado with the velour seats and insists I ride in the bed of the truck. He relents on this and lets me ride in the front after another large crowd gathers and a poll is taken as to the correct action on his part.

I never went back to the Plano Muni Course and my old golf cart was never retrieved.

We all played again 4 days later - at the Richardson Muni Course.....,

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That is about the funniest golf story I have ever heard....spit coffee all over the monitor...Wonder is Zhunter has ever pulled a Merlin somewhere...

When I was learning the game, I was about 17 or so...you know, bullet proof and invisible...the 6th hole at Memorial Park in Houston is a 3 par 129 yds over a little pond...

Later that evening my buds and I sat wondering just how many balls were in that pond at the end of the week..? so Sunday night about 10PM, we got 5 tow sacks and some jean shorts and drove over to the park...

Parking the car in the woods, we sneaked over to the 6th hole and waded in...the bottom of the pond was literally covered in balls...we filled 5 gunny sacks in about 10 minutes...dragged them back to the car and dumped them in the trunk and returned...

Over and over that night till about 2pm we dredged, carried and emptied balls out of that tiny pond till we were exhausted and were no doubt in trouble with our folks because of the time anyway...so called it a night..

Monday after school, we met at the home of the guy who drove and literally shovelled the balls out of the trunk into his back yard...and boy was there a heap of them...As boys will be boys we started counting them and wondering what the hell were we going to do with all those balls...

As it turned out, we had over 7000 golf balls!!! and after picking out a hundred or so for each of us...we did out best imitation of washing and sorting them, by injury, of course and putting on our best brash faces drove over to the pro shop at the park and asked the pro if they would be interested in buying some used balls for the pro shop..After an affirmative answer from the pro...we carried about 6000 balls tied in burlap bags into the pro shop...

No, he did not count them, and took our word for it that there were 6k balls there...garnering 25 cents each for them, we stood there, stunned when he wrote us a check for 1500 dollars...My 1/4th of that, along with the money I had saved working summers cutting grass, and at the grocery store bought me my first car....a '54 Chevy ...Torquoise and White...hot damn...

Boy, I still love golf...and have to chuckle each time I see one of those guys who dredged the balls with me... :P:D

Not a naked story, but funny nevertheless...

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On my old 3 wheeled golf cart.

:rolleyes:

When I was a kid, I used to play golf with my Dad. He liked the golf, I liked driving the cart, fast. After one particular incident I didn't get to drive it for a while. We rounded a little hill and drove next to a water hazard on two wheels for quite a distance. I thought it was hilarious, but Dad wasn't quite as happy. Might not have gotten in as much trouble, except that Dad was on the side hanging over the water. We had a long talk about how the people that ran the course wouldn't like it if they had to pull their cart out of the water.

Another incident that showed questionable judgment occurred on the ski slopes when I was about 14. My friend and I were racing down the mountain neck-and-neck. This is way before all the concern about reckless skiing, maiming, and loss of innocent life. I got to the bottom and Joe wasn't with me anymore. When he finally caught up, he was WHITE. I asked him what took him so long. He explained that he lost control and flew off the edge of the trail, with a huge dropoff. I asked him how he got back on the trail. His explanation was that he lassoed a tree with his lower intestine and rappelled back up the slope.

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I won't shoot a comp gun upside-down again.

I won't try to cut a cylindrical piece of wood in a band saw again.

I won't spray brake cleaner on gun parts without eye protection again.

I will never again put hydrogen peroxide disinfected contact lenses in my eyes until the catalyst has neutralized the peroxide.

I won't go to the beach without sunscreen again.

I will never again operate a thumb-throttle ATV that must be slowed for turns immediately after operating a thumb-throttle watercraft that must be gassed for turns.

I will never disrespect a woman again.

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I won't spray brake cleaner on gun parts without eye protection again.

..or reloading presses or any other source of right angles or blind holes. Believing you may quickly be going blind while stumbling about the house eyes clamped shut in pain trying to get to the shower is not fun.

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Touch, scratch, or rub any part of my face (or anywhere on my body for that matter) whilst slicing any variety of hot pepper.

Will not remove my contacts at bedtime after cooking with any variety of very hot pepper (either fresh or dried)...must remove them and switch to glasses beforehand.

Multiple handwashing didn't prevent getting all snot-nosed and watery eyed reaction 5 hours after cutting those darn things...

QUOTE(Erik Warren @ Jun 27 2006, 01:37 PM)

I won't spray brake cleaner on gun parts without eye protection again.

+1000...did that trick too

Edited by Middle Man
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Another guy only thing. Remember when you were finally tall enough to actually pee in the toilet standing up? Remember your parents telling you to stand really, really close? Mine forgot to tell me to be sure to get the toilet seat all the up and to the back. When that thing fell...well never mind.

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Another guy only thing. Remember when you were finally tall enough to actually pee in the toilet standing up? Remember your parents telling you to stand really, really close? Mine forgot to tell me to be sure to get the toilet seat all the up and to the back. When that thing fell...well never mind.

That just makes me cringe.

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As a young kid I had an old bicycle that had belonged to my uncle. I was ridding it pell mell and went to jump up onto the curb of the sidewalk. My timing was slightly off and the front tire hit the curb and the bike stopped--I didn't. The upright that holds the handlebars stopped me. When I could finally get up, I decided that I hurt too much to ride the bike home. So I walked kind of bow-legged because it felt like there was something the size of grapefruit in my shorts.

Other things over the years.

Cut my left index finger down the middle from the tip to the first joint with a hand saw.

Stuck my left ring finger in a jointer while planning a short board.

Stabbed myself with a bayonet as I was charging down a hill and waving the bayonet around. That took 4 stitches on a Thanksgiving afternoon. The Doc was very understanding. I think his words were "Okay, what has Dennis done this time?"

Also got hit in the head with a sledge hammer on the back swing. And in a different place and time tripped and fell off a garage roof onto a piece of hedge that had been cut back. Both caused lots of blood to flow and stitches.

In my next life, I vow to be more careful.

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Trying to impress the other firearms instructors with my "It's important to be ambidextrious" speech, I decided to qualify with my weak shoulder on the shotgun slug qualification course.

Rem. 870+ Full Power slugs+ a healthy dose of male bravado= Greenish/purpleish, bruised shoulder that I couldn't raise for a week.

But I've still got my pride. (Red Foreman voice on/ "Dumbass" / Red Foreman voice off)

Erik

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Another guy only thing. Remember when you were finally tall enough to actually pee in the toilet standing up? Remember your parents telling you to stand really, really close? Mine forgot to tell me to be sure to get the toilet seat all the up and to the back. When that thing fell...well never mind.

Happened to me at 3 yrs old and over 50 years later mine is still swollen to over twice a normal persons size.... ;)

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Male specific:

-I was a non-bleeding victim of a zipper fly (the pants kind of fly, not some sort of killer insect...). Thank god, my underwear protected my, um... sack.

Gender neutral:

-I once believed that in order to cut a thick, ribbed piece of polycarbonate (or was it acrylic?) with a sharp blade, I had to apply a LOT of force both downwards and in the direction of the cut (the board was lying flat on the floor, I was on top of it). A couple of sliced fingers (including my left thumb with some meat and fingernail hanging from it) later, I think it was a bad idea.

-"Hey, I think that despite this gun having no beavertail, having a high grip on it, and the fact that the spurred hammer is actually touching the ripple of flesh on the web of my hand; there's absolutely no way that it can hurt me!" *BLAM!* "AAAAGGHHH!!!"

I still have the scar (the hammer dig a little hole in my hand).

-"Hhhhmmmm...... I bet the best way to disassemble this gun, which has a lot of small parts under spring pressure; while being 2 A.M. on a 100 sq. ft. room with dark floor that is only lit by a 60 watt lightbulb and has a lot of furniture, is to apply a lot of force to said spring while I try to fumble some pin with the unoccupied fingers!" *SRPOING!!! clink clink clink.......*

3 hours trying to find a plunger, a couple of nervous breakdowns and finally finding the DAMN thing 3 MONTHS LATER STUCK IN BETWEEN THE WOOL OF THE SWEATER I WAS WEARING, I came to the conclusion it was not an experience I'd like to relive.

-When I first had a computer, I was in the curious phase of getting to know the thing... So, I browsed through the folders (win 95), and for some random reason I don't remember, decided there was a lot of files there... The first file I erased? user.dat...

Thankfully, I've come a long way since those days... I think...

I'm sure there's a LOT more stories somewhere in my memories...

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Merlin, Buddy....

You KNOW that the first liar doesn't have a chance...and besides, you suffer fromWMD, no rhythm, can't jump, and got a short one... :lol::P:D

Well, TL - you might have got two of em right....

Regards,

Merlin "Bankwalker" Orr aka DonkeyBoy

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