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Story Time with EG - ***OFFICIAL THREAD*** (The "Magnum Opus" is complete 5/17/18) (1 Viewer)

IMAX 3D said:
I know this is EG’s thread but im going to post my golf outing mishap in here when it happens mid July

last years Hot Mess story should be in here somewhere 

just came across this Pic from a few years ago where there was a small foot bridge that said no carts that I told my buddy to just drive across with the cart

”no way that will make it”

Me:  wanna bet.  [stomps on his foot]

they were not to happy when we turned the cart in drunk as hell and plead ignorance.  Eventually we are going to run out of local courses that will host us I think
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I hope that was beer spilled on the shorts?

 
Skipdog77 said:
I hope that was beer spilled on the shorts?
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Lol yeah either from the crash or I dumped a beer in his lap as a gag

ahh...another story with the same guy.  This was back in college and completely irresponsible but we were at a small party and decided to drive up to Taco Bell.  I don’t think it was a kegger but for some reason we took full glasses of beer with us.  We get to Taco Bell and go to place our order at the drive through and we’re informed there would be a 30 minute wait for meat.  This was probably before all the steak and chicken stuff was prominent so there really weren’t a lot of options

so he says F that and since there were cars in front of us try’s to floor it and back out of the drive through in reverse.  This was the typical looping drive through and I turned around to see how he was doing and before I could say “You’re Gonna Hit That Pole” he backs into it me of those yellow cement pylons.  Beer goes flying everywhere 

we go back to the party empty handed and and get a lot of Is It Raining Out comments

best part was drive home the next day I flipped down his visor to block the morning sun and got a nice little beer bath 

 
Galileo said:
When do we get the Sh!t box for Katie or F'n Bologna T!ts stories?  Did I miss them already??
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Also, if you look at some of the other team names, you'll see "Puke in the Ashtray" and "Imaginary Liverwurst." Those both come from the Ox's wedding. The same Chad from the Preakness story complained to me when I came back to our table from the bar with 5 Jager shots and a shot of Jack for myself. He groused because he wanted Jack too instead of Jager, so I switched with him. We did the shots and he almost instantly threw it back up into the ashtray on our table, filling it perfectly to the brim.  We went outside after that to listen to our friend Rob's new car stereo by blasting Pantera in the parking lot while Beef threw empty beer bottles around. After getting scolded and flagged by the hotel manager as a result, I went into the coat closet and started pretending it was a deli, complete with slicing imaginary cold cuts for people as they walked by. Don't really remember doing it, but my friends found it hilarious. 

I'll write up the S--t Box for Katie story on Monday, that one is kind of amusing (and gross) and indirectly involves Chad as well. 

 
Officer Pete Malloy said:
Fake Slayer Tickets

Of course
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:lmao:

That one was a result of Kev. We went to see Slayer in NYC and he and the Ox hadn't bought seats, so they had to scalp tickets. Kev bought 2 from some degenerate and brought them into the Blarney Rock, where we always pre-game for MSG/Paramount shows. They were easily the worst counterfeit tickets I had ever seen. Egregiously awful. We made fun of him for hours, and yet he actually tried to get into the show with them. The ticket taker started laughing at him. 

After the show, we couldn't find them back at the bar. Those idiots ended up going to the Blarney Stone instead, not realizing they were in a different bar. We ended up having to leave them in the city to catch the last train home. 

They missed the train and had to pool their money together to rent the cheapest motel room they could find. They told me later that there was an unholy stench in the room - Ox found the source the next morning before checkout. He moved the dresser (why?) and found what he described as "a bird that had been dead for weeks decaying behind the dresser. How or why it was there, I'll never know." 

 
Happy Preakness Day & a tip of the mug to Dan-O & Faz.  :banned:

P.S. Woke up this morning & my wife said "You missed the Royal wedding." My first thought was BFD. My second was "Man I wish EG had been invited to the Royal wedding. The stories would have been legendary."

 
Buzzbait said:
Happy Preakness Day & a tip of the mug to Dan-O & Faz.  :banned:

P.S. Woke up this morning & my wife said "You missed the Royal wedding." My first thought was BFD. My second was "Man I wish EG had been invited to the Royal wedding. The stories would have been legendary."
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Somehow, I think one look at this thread would have caused any invite I might have received in a parallel universe to be swiftly revoked. :lol:

 
Evilgrin 72 said:
:lmao:

That one was a result of Kev. We went to see Slayer in NYC and he and the Ox hadn't bought seats, so they had to scalp tickets. Kev bought 2 from some degenerate and brought them into the Blarney Rock, where we always pre-game for MSG/Paramount shows. They were easily the worst counterfeit tickets I had ever seen. Egregiously awful. We made fun of him for hours, and yet he actually tried to get into the show with them. The ticket taker started laughing at him. 

After the show, we couldn't find them back at the bar. Those idiots ended up going to the Blarney Stone instead, not realizing they were in a different bar. We ended up having to leave them in the city to catch the last train home. 

They missed the train and had to pool their money together to rent the cheapest motel room they could find. They told me later that there was an unholy stench in the room - Ox found the source the next morning before checkout. He moved the dresser (why?) and found what he described as "a bird that had been dead for weeks decaying behind the dresser. How or why it was there, I'll never know." 
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Also missed the last NJ Transit train out of Penn Station years ago after a night out in NYC. Was absolutely hammered, so just went to the train that was still running thinking (?) I was all set. The LIRR. Got on and passed out. Was woken up in Babylon, NY at which point I was told I needed to pay to get the return train back to Penn Station to get home. NJ Trainsit was running again by the time I got back. Still get made fun of for that story.

 
I'm watching the Preakness because of this thread. 

What time do you usually hit the hay? :lmao:

 
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Evilgrin 72 said:
Serendipity. 

As I was typing that last post, Beef (the surgeon) texted me a picture of a sticker he put up in the back room of one of his offices that reads: "Employees must carve 'SLAYER' into forearms before returning to work." 
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Slayer farewell tour is allegedley this summer

 
S--tbox for Katie..

Katie was a girl who hung out with us a lot back in the early 90s, she eventually started dating Chad.  A few months into their relationship, Chad was sent to Italy on business for 3 weeks*. One day, a bunch of us were hanging out at my house drinking and the Ox had an idea to play a practical joke on Katie (she wasn't around, obviously.)  He and our friend Two-Dake decided to take massive dumps in a cardboard box, fill it with styrofoam peanuts, spray it with perfume, seal it up, and tell Katie that Chad had sent a package from Italy for her.  Why it would have come to our house, why there were no customs stickers on it, etc.. were questions they ignored.

As it turned out, they were right to ignore them because she never asked.  She was so excited to get a package from Chad that she tore over to our house and ripped it open and started rifling through the packing material.

"Why does this smell like perfume?"

"Oh man, I hope it wasn't perfume and the bottle broke in transit (snickering)

"I can't find anyth-  WHAT THE F---??!?!?"

Handful of turds.  She was absolutely furious and took off in her car, while I tried not to throw up and everyone else laughed hysterically.  Then, deciding one victim wasn't enough, they re-packed the box and addressed it to our friend Melanie.  They drove over to her house and left it on her porch, rang the bell, and took off and hid in teh bushes to observe.  I wasn't there for this - I was a conscientious objector.  I don't like anything that has anything to do with feces.  To hear them tell it, Melanie's dad answered the door and grabbed the package and tried to open it.  The last thing they heard before the door closed was Melanie wailing : "Dad !!!  STOP - IT'S ADDRESSED TO ME !!!!!"

I don't recall how it worked out this way, but Two-Dake was unceremoniously banned by Melanie's father from ever setting foot in their house again while the Ox escaped blame entirely.

* - This led to one funny exchange when we were at my buddy Mitch's house doing bong rips one night.  He had the idea to try to call Chad in his hotel in Italy, so he pulled out the contact info Chad provided and started dialing.  Obviously, all I could hear was his side of the "conversation", which went like this.  "Umm.. hola.  Can I speak to Chad?  Room sette.  Um.. camera sette.  Chad.  Chad... sette.  Chad.  Chad.  Chad!  (pause and audible sigh)  Can I get a large pie with sausage?"  :lol:

 
Evilgrin 72 said:
VEGAS CHAPTER IV - Part 1

This will likely be the finale of the Vegas Chronicles although there were humorous moments from other Vegas weekends, I don't know that any of them require their very own story.  Perhaps one day, I'll go back and try to recall a bunch of these and put them in a "vignettes" post.  This weekend was pretty memorable, though.

FRIDAY

Ox, Yams and I were all in SLC at the time - the Ox and I lived there and were good friends with a guy named Murray, who was having his bachelor party in Vegas that Saturday.  Yams was still in undergrad school but had worked for Murray the summer before on an internship I wrangled for him and decided to fly out for the festivities.  Murray and all his friends from both SLC and his hometown/college days in NY were arriving very late Friday night/early Saturday morning, so for one night, my two brothers and I were on our own.  Right before we flew out Friday morning on the short 55 minute flight from SLC, I got an e-mail from a girl that worked at my company's San Francisco office.  We had hooked up once a few months prior when I was on business at their office and she told me that she was also going to be in Vegas that weekend with a guy she had recently started dating and wanted to know if we wanted to meet them for drinks.  I told her we were staying at Mandalay Bay (they were staying at the Hard Rock) and told her to leave me a message on my room phone if she wanted to hang out (this was a few months before I got my first cell phone.) 

We arrived early at Mandalay and to none of your surprise, began drinking almost immediately.  We spent the better part of the morning/afternoon crushing comp beers and drinks and gambling all over the hotel without incident.  Around 5:00, we were in the gift shop buying something when I hear some commotion behind me.  I turn around to see 4 of the most gorgeous women I have ever seen in my life, clad only in bikinis, with sashes on them with the names of countries on those.  As my eyes were popping out of my head, I asked the counter person what the hell was going on.  Unbeknownst to us, the Miss Hawaiian Tropic International finals were going on at the hotel that weekend.  We basically stood and gawked when one brave soul stepped to Miss Brazil and started trying to rap with her.  I admired the guy's bollocks for sure, but the ruthless speed and efficiency with which he was shot down was mesmerizing.  We quickly bee-lined to the pool to see what was going on, but they had essentially folded up shop for the day, much to our dismay.

Now the three of us are walking around (more than) half drunk and with booty on the brain, so we sit down at a blackjack table that had a few cute girls at it.  We play a few hands, and then a guy sits down two seats to my right.  I didn't realize it at first, but after a few hands, I look over and it's "Beverly Hills 90210" star Ian Ziering.  I blurt out : "Hey !  Ian ! (even pronouncing his name "correctly" - EYE-in.)  He looks over and nods.  For some reason, I knew he was from Jersey, same as myself, so I make some idle chatter about how we're both Jersey kids, blah blah blah.  He's (rightly) disinterested in what I am saying and kind of tunes me out.  As it turns out, his wife Nikki is somehow involved with the Hawaiian Tropic pageant and he's slipping a few hands of blackjack in during the downtime between appearances/judging/whatever he's doing there.  As time goes on and I get progressively drunker, I start yapping about the one episode of "90210" I had ever actually seen.  My memory of it is fuzzy, but it involved some kind of overnight or weekend trip that these wacky kids were on where his character, Steve, wanted to get booze and get hammered but is shot down by the other (lame) characters.  Something like that.  Anyway, I start talking about it as I have absolutely nothing else to say to him, and to his credit, he obliges my drunken rambling for a little while.  Eventually though, he starts to get annoyed (again rightfully so,) especially since I have ceased referring to him by name entirely and am now just calling him Steve.  The exchange ended with something along these lines (paraphrasing):

EG : "Steeeeeeeeeeve... that was awesome.  You wanted to get beer, but the rest of those dorks just wanted to sit around and play cards.  What a bunch of nerds - you were the only cool one, Steve.  Did you-?"

Ian (interrupting, mildly annoyed) : "Yeah, that was the character.  It's not like I wanted to get beer and my cast-mates didn't.  It's a TV show."

EG (now mildly annoyed back by the perceived condescension) : "Yeah, I know the difference between real life and a television program.  I'm just having some fun here."

Ian : "Are you?  You keep calling me 'Steve'."

EG : "I called you EYE-IN (emphasizing the stupid pronunciation) when you sat down, man.  Look, there's only one way to settle this. We're doing a shot of Jager together." (signals for the cocktail waitress)

Ian : "Thanks but no thanks.  I don't really want to do a shot of Jager."

EG : "With me?"

Ian : "No, I just don't really want one, period."

EG : "Bulls*** !!"  (to cocktail waitress) : "Two Jager shots, please."

Ian : "You're drinking them both yourself."

EG : "You think I'm afraid to do 2 Jager shots?  I've been drinking all day"

Ian : "You don't say..."

EG : "All right, look, Steve.  You're doing this shot with me and I'll hear no more about it."

Ian : "Jesus H." (gathers up his chips and leaves)

Ox : "Wow [EG], you just annoyed Steve right off the table.  Nice work.  I'll do the extra Jager shot."

Fast forward a few hours and we're now completely destroyed.  I mean wasted to the point of not being able to walk properly.  I become obsessed with finding this girl I hooked up with 3 months ago, even though she's here with her boyfriend.  I call over to the Hard Rock, but there's no room booked under her name (predictably.)  We're beginning to draw attention at Mandalay for our drunken buffoonery (Ox tackled Yams and me in the lobby at one point and security gave us a stern talking-to) so we decide to go somewhere else for a while.  Where better than the Hard Rock, right?

30 minutes later, we're at the Hard Rock at one of the bars, barely able to stand.  I'm scanning the casino floor through half-open eyes trying to find this girl in the sea of humanity when the Ox hands me a shot.  Thinking it's whiskey, I gulp it down, only to realize immediately that it was cheap tequila.  Now, 2001 EG and cheap tequila did not get along well.  We did once, but a night of such excess that I woke up in the neighbors' shrubs, covered with vomit, soured me on tequila for many years in general (specifically, it was Ole.)  The second my taste buds registered what liquor this was, my stomach turned completely over in a flash. I had enough time to look up to see if there was a bathroom nearby, but not take a single step, before I threw up about a gallon of liquid all over the bar/floor.  The Ox, having done this intentionally, squealed with laughter as I regurgitated over and over again until security appeared and escorted us swiftly and curtly off the grounds.

Fast forward a few more hours and we're back at Mandalay, at the same blackjack table I annoyed Steve away from earlier.  By now, it's after midnight and we've been partying aggressively for about 13-14 hours straight.  Things have gotten dicey.  We sit down at the blackjack table and Yams orders a gin and tonic.  We play about three hands before Yams knocks his drink over and spills it all over the felt.  I groan as the dealer calls for a towel to mop up the mess.  Yams is looking around sheepishly as they clean up his mess when he spots the cocktail waitress and orders a replacement drink.  I actually started to protest, but it was too late.  After a few minutes, the drink is replaced, the table is clean and play resumes.  For about 60 seconds.  **WHACK**  Another gin and tonic all over the table.  I couldn't believe it, I was about to say "Yams, maybe you should take a break" when the dealer just leans across the table, looks him square in the eye and sternly enunciates :

"GO.  TO.  BED."

I started laughing, but agreed with him and grabbed Yams and took him up to the room.  By now, it's nearing 1 AM and I figured maybe it was time for a quick nap myself, when I notice the message light on the phone is on.  I hit the message button and hear the familiar voice of the gal I was trying to locate at Hard Rock, telling me that she was parked at the Center Bar at Mandalay and to come down there if I hear this message.  So naturally, I high-tail it down there and sure enough, she's sitting there, by herself.  Puzzled, I roll up and ask where her new boyfriend is.  She tells me that this was their first weekend away and after a few hours, she realized he was "boring and kind of lame," so she ditched him and came over to Mandalay looking for me.  What a skank.  I actually had something of a moral/ethical debate with myself for about 11 seconds before I pushed those feelings aside and started applying the Timeless Art of Seduction.  It really wasn't necessary as she was, to borrow bon mots from "Jersey Shore" parlance, thoroughly DTF.  The problem was that she was decidedly NOT down to go back to my room and shag with Yams milling around or even passed out in there, and ostensibly her new "boyfriend" was likely to be in her room at Hard Rock.  So, we did what any drunk, degenerate, horny 20-somethings would do, we rolled into the men's room right off the casino floor.  We ushered ourselves quickly into the handicapped stall and she grabbed the rail while your old pal EG gave the what for from behind.  I know the casino is covered with cameras, so I was half-waiting for the stall door to get kicked in by security at any second, but it never happened.  Either we were undetected or security just didn't give a crap with all the money changing hands at the tables.

Post-coitus, we slid out of the stall and then the restroom under the gazes of several casino patrons - some confused, some approving - and back into the casino proper.  I was escorting her toward the front door/taxi stand so she could get back to her cuck boyfriend at Hard Rock when suddenly, I get absolutely leveled from behind.  Thinking for sure that it was police or security taking me down for my bathroom foray, I was prepared to be ejected from the hotel or thrown in the drunk tank when I realize that it's the Ox.  The Ox likes to tackle me when he gets really hammered.  The Ox is 6' 5" 275 lbs.  Two of my ribs cracked from this impromptu QB sack in the lobby onto a tile floor, but I barely felt it at the time, such was my relief that it wasn't security.  My joy was short-lived as not more than 15 seconds later, ACTUAL security descended upon us.  The gal saw them coming and wisely rolled out the front door to hail a cab while the security guards accosted Ox and myself.  Luckily, as registered hotel guests, all they did was escort us back to our room, where we promptly passed out.  I never saw my bathroom tryst again, in person at least (postscript will afford clarity to this.)

Part 2 - Saturday to follow this afternoon or tomorrow AM.
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One of two updates I felt needed to be posted here.

I found out today that the girl I rogered in the bathroom at Mandalay Bay was once pursued by Bradley Cooper.  Seriously.  They went to HS together and apparently Cooper had a major crush on her (she has "love letters" to prove it.)  She made out with him once but refused to bang him.

That's right, this girl TURNED DOWN Bradley Cooper, but was willing to do me in a stall in the men's room of a Las Vegas casino.  You have to think she's questioning her life choices at this point.

Another (funnier) update momentarily.

 
Evilgrin 72 said:
Preakness story coming soon, but in the meantime, this one is recent and hopefully good for a chuckle.  Plus, it's quick to write because I'm going to copy/paste an e-mail chain to give most of the details.

A few days before Christmas, the Ox and I went on our 6th annual Christmas round of golf.  We started this tradition back in 2012 - we go to the same golf course every year and play 18 holes for the unnamed family championship.  A few years, Yams was able to accompany us but is never a factor in who wins because he sucks even more than we do (for posterity, the Ox won in 2012 and 2016, I won in 2013, 2014, 2015, and 2017.)  This year, as in several past, our friend Sean came with us and in Yams' absence, his girlfriend Rachel played this year as well.  The one caveat with this "tournament" is that the Ox and I both have to buy and bring an 18-pack of beer with us and in order to win the title, you not only have to post the lowest score, you also have to drink the entire 18 pack over the course of the round.

We started the day at 11:00 at a Colombian restaurant near the golf course and over huge plates of bandeja paisa, we each had 3 Presidentes to start things off right.  Always a good idea when you have an 18 pack to consume over the next few hours.  After lunch, we went next door to the Winn Dixie and selected our 18-packs of choice.  Loaded up the coolers and made the short drive to the course.  Now, a word about this golf course.  It's an executive course, and it might be the s--ttiest golf course in the world.  It's roughly $18 to play 18 holes with a cart, it's barely maintained, sand "puddles" on the greens, etc.  A total abomination.  That's why we play here every year, besides being cheap, no one really cares if you're an ###hole during your round.  We would NEVER get away with our style of "play" on a real golf course, for reasons that will soon be clear.  We get there and pay the guy in the "clubhouse", who happens to be a mute.  I don't want to venture a guess as to what his story is or why he can't talk, but he can't.  He looked just like the guy in the wheelchair that switches on the ball return in "Kingpin" when the hustlers take Woody's hand off, if you know the movie.  Anyway, we pay him, get the keys to the carts, load them up with beer and the clubs and head to the first tee.

Things are relatively uneventful until we get to about the 5th or 6th hole.  The Ox has a gleam in his eye as he pulls out the "treat" he brought with him, a pint flask of Code Rum (local FL artisanal rum, kind of like Captain Morgan but with more spice - 70 proof.)  I groan in fear just before I take a lengthy pull. 

8th hole - the Ox recommends shotgunning a beer so we can keep our 18 beers/18 holes pace up.  I naturally agree.

9th hole - another looooooong pull of rum.

10th hole - an older guy on a cart pulls up to the tee as we're sitting there.  I'm pissing in the trees just off the tee box as the Ox, Sean, and Rachel are smoking a huge bowl.  He asks to play through, which is hard to hear over Slayer's "Raining Blood" BLASTING through the bluetooth speaker we have hooked to our cart.  He looks at us like we're aliens as I look at him and wonder why he chose to play THIS golf course.  He plays through and gets the hell out of there, FAST.

12th hole - we finish the rum and shotgun another beer.  Things are beginning to get very, very hazy.

15th hole - around here is where I black out entirely.  I literally don't remember finishing the 18 packs (we did) or the round (we also did.)  The next thing I remember after playing the 14th was waking up in the car and being in my driveway at home.  I stumbled into the house, put all my crap away and passed out cold.

The next day, this was the e-mail chain (reformatted and names expurgated)

Rachel : "I had so much fun yesterday guys, thanks for letting me be a part of it!"

EG : "No problem, it was great to have you. Glad you had fun.  I don't remember #### after about the 14th hole until I woke up in the front seat sitting in my driveway.  Somehow, my clubs, sunglasses, speaker and cooler all made it back safely.  I even put the speaker on the USB charger, I was clearly running on autopilot."

Sean : "Does the speaker still work OK?"

EG : "What do you mean?"

Sean : "Holy ####, you don't remember your cart shenanigans?"

Ox : "Oh man, it's all coming back to me, now.  Didn't we drive over a car stopper in the parking lot?"

Sean : "Yep.  At full speed. [EG,] you don't remember this?"

EG : "Not at all, but I just checked and the speaker works fine.  What the hell happened?"

Sean : "Holy ####, dude.  You were driving the cart right after we finished and [Ox] was in the passenger seat.  You were doing laps around the parking lot and chugging beer where there were no lights and drove over the concrete spot divider at full speed.  Seriously, you had to be going almost 30 and BOOM.  EVerything flew out of the cart except you and [Ox] - the speaker, the clubs, the cooler with no beer left in it, your sunglasses, balls, tees.  It was brutal."

Ox : "HAHAHAHAHAHA - nice work, [EG].  I only sort of remember."

EG : "I have absolutely no memory of this.  I blame the rum, and the fact that the parking lot lighting was inadequate.  Also, the cart may have been malfunctioning.  Basically, I blame everything except myself."

Rachel : "OMG, I can't believe you don't remember.  You guys kill me.  It was legit the funniest thing I've ever seen in my life.  You tried to start doing laps again after and the guy from the clubhouse that can't talk jumped into the cart after [Ox] got out.  He was so pissed and then you just looked over at him and went 'Oh, OK.  Hi.  Merry Christmas' and then stomped on the gas again and took off with him in it. So fkn funny"

EG : "At least he can't tell anyone about it."

Sean : "He was SO mad.  He just kept pointing to that fenced-in paddock where they keep all the carts and gesturing to you to drive there.  I was right behind you on the other cart.  He just kept pointing in that direction and then you asked him if you could smell the inside of his hat.  I almost died."

EG : "Jesus Christ.  I have literally zero recollection of any of this."

Rachel : "Then, the manager or whatever of the golf course came out and started yelling.  He asked you your name and you gave hima  fake name."

Sean : "You were doing Jerky Boys, you told him your name was Frank Rizzo.  He wrote it down and then was trying to ask you something else, but you kept yelling out a phone number.  He kept opening his mouth to yell at you and you would yell louder '6-8-0-5 !!!!!'  He finally gave up but its probably good that we aren't going there for another year."

Ox : "Damn I wish I could remember any of this"

EG : "I'm kind of glad I don't.  NEVER STOP PARTYING !!!!"

Ox : "Hahaha - Chainsaw!"

Yes, I'm 45 years old.
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We went back this past December to play our annual round.  I stayed in the parking lot loading coolers while Sean & Rachel went in to get the cart keys, for fear of being recognized.  Ox and I were just finishing loading up the coolers when we hear the two of them riding up on carts.  Sean says :

"Yeah, you guys are using THIS cart.  We went in there and the guy said (Ed: not Mutie McCartface, obviously):

'If you want to wait until someone comes off the course, we can give you a different cart, but right now all we have is this one.  Some ***hole drove it over a concrete divider in the parking lot a while back.  We don't rent it unless all the other carts are in use.  It still runs, but steering is tough.....'"

:bag:   Ox and I used that cart all day long.  Here is a photo of it : https://i1070.photobucket.com/albums/u489/evilgrin72/20181229_131132_zps19tneh4o.jpg

They had the entire steering mechanism held together by ropes.  You had to turn the wheel about 3 complete revolutions just to get the cart to turn about 30 degrees to the left or right.  We almost hit about 8 stationary targets, but we never went back to swap it out.  I considered it penance.

Bonsoir, all.... back into self-imposed exile.

 
Evilgrin 72 said:
We went back this past December to play our annual round.  I stayed in the parking lot loading coolers while Sean & Rachel went in to get the cart keys, for fear of being recognized.  Ox and I were just finishing loading up the coolers when we hear the two of them riding up on carts.  Sean says :

"Yeah, you guys are using THIS cart.  We went in there and the guy said (Ed: not Mutie McCartface, obviously):

'If you want to wait until someone comes off the course, we can give you a different cart, but right now all we have is this one.  Some ***hole drove it over a concrete divider in the parking lot a while back.  We don't rent it unless all the other carts are in use.  It still runs, but steering is tough.....'"

:bag:   Ox and I used that cart all day long.  Here is a photo of it : https://i1070.photobucket.com/albums/u489/evilgrin72/20181229_131132_zps19tneh4o.jpg

They had the entire steering mechanism held together by ropes.  You had to turn the wheel about 3 complete revolutions just to get the cart to turn about 30 degrees to the left or right.  We almost hit about 8 stationary targets, but we never went back to swap it out.  I considered it penance.

Bonsoir, all.... back into self-imposed exile.
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Why are you in a self imposed exile? Is it because of the now Disney g-rated rules in here? We need more story telling.

 
Ditkaless Wonders said:
  BTW, both my examples above are actual events.  The bandicoot, as you may or may not know has a bifurcated penis, needed to impregnate the double ###### on the female.  A trait common, or perhaps definitional, in marsupials.  I did not know this.  My brother did.  He was deeply offended that any critter with a bifurcated penis would be held captive and displayed in a bar outside of Mankato but one was and we were there to see it on a death march ( A Wisconsin tradition of stopping at every bar, pub, tavern, or hole in a wall that serves alcohol as one drove back roads from one destination to the next.  20 establishments, 20 drinks, no exceptions.) .  All night there he, my brother, was shouting loudly, to the proprietor's annoyance, that those with gifted penises, such as himself and the bandicoot  should not be put on display for the amusement of the less gifted. 

Now I did not see it happen, the liberation of the bandicoot that is,  as there was a bit of a disturbance involving another friend and we ended up leaving in a bit of haste, but about a mile down the road I nearly drove into a ditch when the bandicoot jumped into my lap. I would perhaps not have been startled had I known the bandicoot was in the car, but this was my introduction to that fact.  My brother told me to relax, its just a typical bifurcated penised marsupial, no big deal.  He said its not the first time I had multiple penises in my lap.  Then, both startled, and rolling in laughter, I did actually have to pull off the road for a minute to gather myself.  I tried to convince him to return the critter.  That was not to be.  It came back to my brothers place with us.  We left it unsupervised for a while when we heard the girls from next door go out to the pool.  When we came back the thing had gotten into the supplies, pee'd on the mirror, and was bouncing off the walls.  I went home.

The dildo thing was, I have come to believe, a comment about me by someone actually aggravated at my brother, and me then only by extension, as in "I think you are a dildo".  I always believed it was an ex of my brother who did it, but I never actually found out for sure. I do know she was pissed that I would not give her his contact information in Holland when he left the country ahead of his bookie who was looking for him.
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Bumping for Man of Constant Sorrow.

 
Bob Sacamano said:
Maybe if the flaming morons over in the politics forum would quit reporting everyone who realizes Trump is useless and quit getting him banned every time he pops his head up for a breath of air he'd stick around for more than 5 minutes.
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Did EG even go in there?  Didn’t think he got banned, just left because he knew he couldn’t post stories like this anymore 

 
woodstock said:
I think they're busy suspending the wrong guys sometimes. Least, it seems that way to me. 
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Now it's just personal animus, someone says the wrong thing about a higher-up and it's perma-ban because they can't handle anyone disagreeing with them.

 
I like how the one biker who's about to swing the helmet makes sure to dust off the face shield first. :ROFLMAO:
 
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