Ouch!! That makes me wince, just to think about! Poor Monica...

When I was 6, My brother 'taught' me to ride a bicycle by putting me on my sister's Schwinn (thank God for the lowered top tube), and giving me a gentle push.....from the top of a hill.

I was OK at first, but as I picked up speed, I realized that I didn't know how to stop. Doing what comes naturally to a 6-year old, I started yelling as I rocketed towards a parked car. (Evidently, the ability to steer also left my consciousness once I broke the sound barrier).

There was a family having a cookout in their front yard nearby, when they noticed a screaming 6-year old re-entering the atmosphere from low earth orbit (at least that's how fast it seemed to me) headed right for their car. Everyone scattered, and I got stopped by the bike wedging its front wheel into the wheel well of their car. No damage to the car or me, but the fender on the bike was bent...and I think the handgrips still had indentations on them from my death grip....


All of which - I had to explain to my sister, since it was her bike....I'm lucky I was a fast runner.

Haha!! The family must have been SO scared! LOL!

Sounds like my experience with snow-skiing. I had gone down the bunny hill a few times and coasted to a stop. My girlfriend at the time, said, "Whoa.. You're a natural! C'mon! Let's go the intermediate hill!"

We boarded the lift and got to the top. The wind was whistling around my head, and the first twenty-five yards of the slope were damn near vertical. I'm standing there, just about to turn around and say, "This probably isn't a good idea," when she plants her hands in the small of my back, yells, "GO!" and shoves me.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!"

I actually made it to the bottom, but I was going full-tilt and hit a low fence and smacked right into the lift line. Everyone fell like dominoes. No one was hurt, and I had to admit, the sheer speed was A LOT OF FUN!! So we went back up and I dropped off the edge again, this time, trying to zig-zag a little, so I could have more control, but my skis lost traction, and I hit an ice hump, which catapulted me OUT of my bindings.

I went UP, UP, UP, and then began somersaulting end over end. WHAM!!!! I hit the slope and bounced, my ski glasses going up and down, turning everything into a disco of "yellow white yellow white..." When the slick nylon of my suit finally quit acting like an out-of-control sled and I came to a stop, here came my skis... end over end... One of them planted itself like a javelin, between my thighs, perilously close to "the twins."

*shudder*

Scary... Very scary...

All I have to say is frank; you are a wild man.

I do not know if it is very funny but here it is:

When I was around 16 me and my buds were drinking and there was this little punk kid that was around 13 or 14 that thought he was the coolest. He wanted some beer and we told him sure but first he needed to prove to us he was a "man".

Well, we told him he had to pass our situp test. We folded up a towel and and layed it across his eyes and pressed it to the floor. He tried to sit up but could not and we cheered him on.

While all of this was going on one of my indian buddies that was the biggest amongst us droppes his shorts and stuck his bare crack right over his face. He grunted trying as hard as he could to get up and we lifted the towel off his face and all you heard was a face smacking into a but crack.

Talk about brown nosing. It was perfect, his nose hit the target.

so you do have a dark side

Who was that reply to?

If we are posting childhood stories here, I am not sure the statue of limitations has run out yet.


okay, one of my stories involves

illegal fireworks from Mexico,

Nitrous Oxide pressured cans of whipping cream,

and one very dead cow.

enough said.


growing up in Oklahoma

not proud

so not proud

LMAO, Psychopianoman! Too funny....

Yes, Oklahoma is great. The bordom as a child will drive you to do crazy things. There was nothing better to do than terrorize anything you could get your hands on.

You mean like this one....


Yes this is me in my younger days!
My first brand new bike, a christmas gift...
My bike with a banana seat was demolished by my cousins so I rode my moms old blue bike that was as big as this one, maybe bigger. I think that she thought I liked her bike better, but the truth is the only real reason why I rode it was because atleast the other kids in the neighborhood noticed me. That bike got nicknamed the "Milk bike", cause it looked like the old style of bike a milk man would deliver milk with..
:rolleyes:
No one really much cared about bikes after I got my new one or maybe its just that I moved south and kids had that southern, friendly, charm...