The "True Story" Thread

[cojo965]

For this thread we will share true stories from your life, some details excluded of course for privacy's sake. I will share a story that has forever made me despise ignorance. I call it, "The Snake That Killed A Marriage." You may have seen this story in another thread, but I am going to go into detail here.

Mary is a married woman with two kids. One day they find someone that is failing to take care of a python and buy it off of him. After a few days, the snake is round, happy, and liked by all, Mary liking it most. However, now our defacto villain of the tale, Mary's husband, Bobby. He is a drunk who genuinely believes that beer is a hydrating fluid. One day he gets completely shit-faced and declares the python an abomination to God and chops it to pieces. Now this was a terrible act in and of itself, but it was the final straw in an already frayed relationship, and Mary files for divorce. It goes through, as this act demonstrated how unstable Bobby is, and Mary takes the kids with her. While a victory, it will never bring back that python.

Christ, I made myself sad just typing that. Obviously I changed the names for reasons, but this is messed up on so many levels. You can't do something like this after the people surrounding you have got attached to the snake drunk or not. Hopefully you guys have happier stories.

 

[Frezzato]

Back before the year 2000 I was working on a black and white game for the Palm III with two friends. We had a working prototype but they didn't feel like finishing it. See, I was pushing for a simple game in which you can make rapid progress that could also be saved in any state. My reasoning was that people could play games while doing the boring things in life, like waiting in lines or for appointments. Basically I wanted to turn people's pre-smartphone devices into Game Boys.

They thought it was a stupid idea. We never finished the game nor worked on anything since then. Several years later this thing called the iPhone was released, and...

 

[Ten Foot Bunny]

I've always been really clumsy. The pinnacle of my fumble-fingered lack of physicality had to be when I broke a car window while playing basketball. What's so special about that? I was playing in an indoor gym.

Even worse, the car belonged to my asshole of a gym teacher. He became so mean to me after that that he nearly failed me, but gave me a D- instead. I'm a lefty and needed some lefty equipment, which he withheld from me and then gave me failing grades when I didn't manage to perform to expectations. I swear he even once removed the right-hand softball gloves before our class began, then forced me to use a glove that went on my left hand - my throwing hand. Then he failed me on softball tossing and told me I needed to "learn how to throw properly," by which he meant throwing with my right arm.

Worst. Class. Ever.

Well, maybe not. My computer programming teacher in high school was named Richard Long, but he went by Dick. I swear he only did that to show off his name in the phone book. He had a dickhead, macho-man attitude to match his name.

 

[PsychicTaco115]

One time I belly-danced in a Moroccan restaurant at Epcot

I think I've come a long way since then ;P

I mean, I was still a pre-pube back then so I dunno

But the point is, I danced with mah bellah

 

[Dirty Hipsters]

I was once in San Francisco for a family vacation. I was staying in a hotel room with my parents, and in the middle of the night I woke up and realized that I needed to get something from my car (I've since forgotten what that thing was, but it's unimportant). I sleep in boxers and a tee-shirt, and couldn't find my pants in the dark, and I didn't want to wake up my parents by turning on the lights, so I figured I'd just run out to my car in my boxers real quick, since it was 2 in the morning and my car was only parked about 200 feet away.

Now, at the time I looked like a bit of a hobo. I hadn't had a haircut in about 2 months so my hair was starting to turn into a bit of an unkempt Jew-fro and I hadn't shaved in 2 days so I was all scruffy. So by the time I'd walked the 200 feet to my car and back in my boxers I'd somehow made $6 from people on the street who thought I was homeless. That probably wouldn't happen these days considering this happened before the hipster fad. Now half the people in San Francisco look like that.

 

[Idsertian]

Once upon a time, little 6 year old me returns home from a day out shopping in the town with my parents. Takes off shoes, heads upstairs to bedroom for reasons unremembered. Walks past bathroom, walks past sister's room, walks past parent's room, walks into his own bedroom... splat. Bare foot planted straight in the turd left there by one of the family dogs.

Forever known from then on as "The Poofoot" by my father. Goddamn dogs. >_>

Sidenote: That dog went on to live to the ripe old age of 18+ years, which is pretty impressive for a Jack Russel. I've also trodden in dog piss in my socks as well, by the way, just in case you weren't squik-ed out enough already. At least I've never trodden in dog puke... yet.

If that little story didn't float your boat, how about this in greentext form?

> Be 13/14 yo me.
> Be taking riding lessons on neighbour's horse in field next to house.
> Said field is used to house cattle during the summer.
> Said field also has a double wooden electric line/telephone line standing in it.
> My younger self is attempting to learn ye olde rising trot at the time, whilst turning.
> Trotting, turning right, going around aforementioned wooden pylon.
> Hey! I'ma doin' this shit!
> Fuck, right stirrup's come off my foot. It's bouncing like crazy, can't get foot back into it. Wat do?
> I know, keep pushing with left leg to keep horse going right, use right hand to steady stirrup and get foot back in!
> Reach down.
> Got it, but it's still flapping an awful lot, maybe if I lean down slightly...
> Left foot slips out of stirrup.
> World spins.
> Ground.
> Sky.
> THUMP.
> Ow.
> Horse stops, looks down at me as if to say "You alright, son? What you doing down there?"
> Look right, old cow pat.
> Look left, fresh cowpat.
> Have somehow miraculously landed between both.
> Relief at luck tempered by sore back for a week.

Lesson learned kids: Don't lean over to the side when riding a horse, particularly while turning. You will fall. Also, wear a body protector. Your ribs and back will thank you.

 

[MeChaNiZ3D]

When I was in primary school, we were learning about weight. My teacher asked what we thought she weighed. I put up my hand reasoning she was more than 3 times bigger than me, and I weighted 30, so maybe like 100kg. She sent me to stand outside facing the wall and I had no idea how to explain myself, so I did.

 

[DanielBrown]

When I was in primary school, we were learning about weight. My teacher asked what we thought she weighed. I put up my hand reasoning she was more than 3 times bigger than me, and I weighted 30, so maybe like 100kg. She sent me to stand outside facing the wall and I had no idea how to explain myself, so I did.

Uff, something simular happened to me. I was around eight years old and asked a teacher how old she was. She told me to guess(which is quite stupid to ask of a child with no real conception of age).
"40!"
"No..."
"50?"
"28..."
She didn't like me much after that.

OT: Headbutted His Royal Majesty Knugen Carl XIV Gustaf of Sweden in the stomach.
~19 years later he sought his revenge as he almost drove me over with his car.

Spoiler: That's him on the right

 

[Caiphus]

Well, I almost drowned myself trying to impress girls.

Was living in Dubai at the age of 7. Neither of my parents are solid swimmers, so I never really learned while we were living in New Zealand. But it can get fucking hot in Dubai, and our housing estate-compound thingy had a communal pool, so I'd go and play in the kiddie area.

Next door neighbours were French. Had two daughters roughly my age. They knew how to swim. One day they started teasing me for not going over to the deep end.

Well. I wasn't having any of that nonsense.

So I went over to the deep end, thinking "Fuck it, if they can do it, I can probably, maybe do it. How hard can it be?"
Fucking hard, is the answer. I jumped in, and was just immediately fucked. Luckily, I jumped into a part of the pool that was just shallow enough that I was able to jump up and down on the floor to get my head above water. If it had been much deeper, oooh, I would have been in some serious shit.

Managed to half doggy paddle-half hop to the edge of the pool and dragged myself out. Sat by the edge of the pool choking when my mum saw me, rushed over, asked what happened etc.

On the upside, I sort of learned how to swim that day! The French girls probably weren't impressed though.

 

[MeChaNiZ3D]

When I was in primary school, we were learning about weight. My teacher asked what we thought she weighed. I put up my hand reasoning she was more than 3 times bigger than me, and I weighted 30, so maybe like 100kg. She sent me to stand outside facing the wall and I had no idea how to explain myself, so I did.

Uff, something simular happened to me. I was around eight years old and asked a teacher how old she was. She told me to guess(which is quite stupid to ask of a child with no real conception of age).
"40!"
"No..."
"50?"
"28..."
She didn't like me much after that.

OT: Headbutted His Royal Majesty Knugen Carl XIV Gustaf of Sweden in the stomach.
~19 years later he sought his revenge as he almost drove me over with his car.

Spoiler: That's him on the right

It's completely reasonable for children to have no value awareness. But from the picture, if that guy headbutts you in the stomach, it's a slow and painful death.

 

[PainInTheAssInternet]

My sister has decided that our house doesn't have enough animals in it, so she plays foster home to three kittens and ropes me in on it. We have to take them back to the vet to get them checked up every week or so.

On one of these trips, the cats won't stop meowing. Growing suspicious, we pull over and I get in the back seat with them before continuing on the journey. While on the freeway, they grow silent. Very silent.

Then the smell. Holy shit the smell.

Of course, they're in their crate, all three of them, and the crate is on an angle because the seat is on an angle. So the shit slides back and all three roll around in it. Since I'm the only one in the back seat and not driving the car, I am given the honour of cleaning the bastards. They somehow managed to get it everywhere like a painting. They even managed to get some on the seats, which did I mention were fabric?

I don't remember what happened at the vet. I do remember giving them a bath.

On a separate occasion, in the same car, we were coming back from the cottage to our house. About midway, one of the cats starts meowing the same way as the other one did before. I have the presence of mind to take him out of the cage and put him down in the front passenger footwell which I have mostly covered in toilet paper. Mostly.

He continues to meow, each one growing more urgent as he stares up at me. My sister informs me that rubbing his stomach will encourage him, so I do. Then the meowing stops and I put him back on the toilet paper. He then proceeds to go to the only corner that isn't covered and take a truly massive shit before I can get anything underneath him. Again, fabric upholstery.

We spent a lot of time cleaning that car and making it fresh. Good thing it was our car and not the family car.