What kind of cool shit happened to you when you were young?

Ages 8 - 11 or so, it all blurs together:

So much snow we had to dig troughs to get light into the windows, and had to step DOWN to walk on the roof of the outbuildings (8 - 10 feet tall they were). Lots of playing in the snow, but lots of shovelling. Later, thanks to all the snow and also river ice 8 feet thick, the river flooded during breakup and we had three feet of water in the yard and icebergs on the grass.

Won first place the Anchorage Daily News writing contest (writing about the flood).

Got chased by a black bear in my yard. That was not cool at the time, but is a great story now.

Charged by a moose, twice. The same moose. My dad hit it with a shovel -that was cool. Then the moose moved in and lived in our yard for a month. I dreamed of taming it and making it my horse. (Remember people, rural Alaska here.)

Age 13: Went to State in the Battle of the Books. Took second, not bad for a home-schooler. Good year, grin.

Age 13 and 15: Went to Space Camp and KNEW I was going to be an astronaut.

Age 24: Am NOT an astronaut, but still get a kick out of weightlessness (powder days, mmmmmm).

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At 7 or 8 a friend and I set an overgrown vacant lot on fire. Never got busted.

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Heh, were we friends at 7?
I won a beautiful baby competition at 18 months and, like str8line, it's all been downhill from there.

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Originally Posted by str8line

I won my elamentary skhools spelling bee when I was in 5th grade :smile:

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pfft.. I was second in the city spelling bee in 4th grade. :fmicon:
I played in golf tournaments starting around age 6. I won a bunch. It was fun until I got the hooks around 12 or 13. Then it turned into complete misery. Oh well. Now I play for "fun" though I'm not sure how fun it really is. Thing is I just can't bring myself to give up the game. Golf was kind of a family sport for us. Both my brother and sister played collegiately at LSU and he later went on to the Nationwide Tour last year (he's giving it up now). I basically stopped playing seriously after high school. It kind of made me a miserable person. I'm probably the only person on the board who's actually gotten into a fight on the golf course (on second thought maybe not :wink: ). Of course I was only about 10 but that other kid deserved an ass kicking and to a 10 year old beating him at golf wasn't enough I had to beat him.

I vividly remember up at Mt. Baker a certain day around age 7 or so. I was enrolled in the local radio station kids ski school with a race at the end of the 8 Sunday sessions. So I ski with a group of maybe 8-10 the first half of the day and rip around with my dad the after lunch. On maybe the third day my dad did something (not even sure) but a snowboarder came up to help. Said snowboarder turned out to be Craig Kelly. At 7 I knew who he was and all, but was just in awe of that snowboard thingy. I thought the guy was the coolest on the planet for riding one of those and thought it would be very hard. So we got to take a few runs with him and I told him all about me in ski school and he showed us a few fun runs (at least they were to me). I rode a chair with Craig and since I was super scared of heights, he carried my poles like my dad did and I gripped the chair white knuckled. I wish I could remember more about that day.

So a few Sundays later was the last day. The race had started, but I was a few back and figured I would take another run. I got to the top of C2 and heard that I needed to start next. I mached the run as best I could, showed up at the starting gate with goggles crooked and snow in my eyes and they said "GO!!!". So I went, went hard and won my first race on skis!! I still have the trophy and picture of me taking a gate in some really bad brown outfit with my goggle crooked. But I won!!

Very cool experience.

Speaking of puking, my friends Jay and Tommy and I were on the Esplanade (the park on the bank of the Charles River in Boston) for the bicentennial concert on July 4 1976. Heart was the headliner ("Crazy on You" and "Magic Man" were already old).

The official estimate was that there were 750,000 people there. It was hot as hell, upper 90's. We were underage, but had a huge backpack full of beer that by mid afternoon was warmer than piss. We were near the stage, but off to the side away from the river. Heart is playing and all of a sudden Jay jumps up, says, "Oh, shit!" and starts running, hurdling people OJ-style. We take off after him, not knowing what was up. He gets almost to the edge of the crowd, where there were at least 500 Harleys parked, and Bikers galore. As he's running through the bikers he starts puking everywhere, right left and center, all over the bikers, the biker babes and the bikes. Jay just kept running, he was gone before any of them could react.

Naturally, we stopped running and pretended we didn't know him.

Those were some pissed-off puke-covered bikers.

Went downhill skiing for the first time in I belive 5th grade. Whole family fell in love with the sport made plans for week trip to the UP. Mom got in accident had to cancel. Two months later she was feeling better and on a Monday discussed going out west to ski. On that Friday we left for Steamboat. Stayed slopeside in a highend condo (3 levels, 5 bathrooms, private sauna and whirlpool) and finally got to see and ski real mountains. We got some deal where the entire trip was under $1000 for five people. Best vacation of my life.

I broke my first pair of skis on that trip. Some rental pair with the word Swallows on them. I was trying to jump like the "good" skiers. Obviously it didn't work out too well.

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Originally Posted by iceman

Speaking of puking, my friends Jay and Tommy and I were on the Esplanade (the park on the bank of the Charles River in Boston) for the bicentennial concert on July 4 1976. Heart was the headliner ("Crazy on You" and "Magic Man" were already old).

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Heh - I remember that day!

Spent it in Lexington. My Dad grew up right there on Muzzet Street right AT the Battle Green. I met Jamie Farr who was in the parade that day. Think I still have one of the hats from that day floating around in the attic somewhere. Meeeeemoreeeez.

Space Camp rules! I went to Space Camp, Space Academy, and Aviation Challenge. I also KNEW I was going to be an astronaut by way of Navy test pilot. I didn't realize the amount of effort this would take, though.

I won my 4th grade science fair.

9 yrs old. We have a house with an enormous ceiling-- about 30 feet-- and would get these huge Christmas trees that were nearly that tall. One day after school, while watching Airwolf, I knocked the tree over while pretending to be a helicopter pilot. I couldn't figure out how to explain that the tree got knocked down while I was in my room doing my homework, so I got a rope and levered the massive thing back up. Problem was, the raising-up rope I'd used was still tied to the near-top of the tree. Not knowing what to do, I tucked it in the branches. I cleaned the broken ornaments and didn't mention a thing.

The little rope stayed, unnoticed, for the whole season.

I also got a random double-barrel bloody nose one day in 2nd grade.

when i was in 5th grade my mom and grandpa bought the local dairy queen. for someone who has always loved ice cream this was the coolest shit ever. sometimes i'd hang out down there "helping" my mom, other times she'd just bring goodies home in the designated cooler she kept in her minivan. when they sold it i was bummed, but part of their profit was funneled into an account that helped me get through college.

I was a mathlete in 6th grade. BOO-YEAH!!

My Most Vivid Memory--Sorry If You've Already Heard It

The Reverend and the Rabbit

I used to have a horrible fear of public crappers, especially the ones at school. My elementary was K-8, so at any given time in second grade, I could be alone in the bathroom with any number of 7th or 8th graders ready to pummel me. Because of this, I used to squeeze for dear life until I got to the safety of our shining porcelian repreive at home.

Well, one morning in second grade I knew I was in trouble. Pressure was building and the levee wasn't going to hold. I had gorged myself on tater tots and a sloppy joe the night before and the piper was making his rounds, poking me in the gut, prodding my bowels with what felt like a 30 pound barbell. The teacher was yapping about this and that as the sweat began to bead on my forehead. I looked down at my parachute pants, half expecting to see them bulging from the presure. I unbuttoned my camo shirt hoping to provide some relief, but no. It was go-time and there was nothing I could do except either make my way to the perils of the crapper or let 'er ride. I decided to brave the crapper and was just about to raise my hand for a hall pass when 4 denim-clad 7th graders passed by the hallway, talking loudly, inevitably plotting my demise, or so I believed. I was going to have to wait this one out.

About two minutes later I decided that I'd have to relieve some pressure and hopefully it would be just a little gassy gas. I looked around, wondering how I could possibly rememedy the situation and let it fly unnoticed. I looked at my close friend sitting next to me, a Japanese kid named Tsuomo Yassuda who claimed to carry throwing stars at all times. We were sitting at the end of the row, with Tsuomo at the very end. Then I saw it...the class pet rabit cage! I quietly nudged Tsomo and whispered an instruction to switch places with me, which he did curiously. I could smell the rabit cage. The sheer brilliance of my move nearly made me laugh in triumph. Delivery time.

I lifted one buttcheek of my shiny parachute pants while the teacher continued on about something or other. Wheeeeeeeeee... I let a squeeker out and immediately my gut felt just a little better. I glanced at Tsomo who had his pencil precariously deep in his nose. Perfect. Nobody noticed.

Then...horror.

I felt it. I hadn't only farted. I had sharted just a little bit....a tiny little nugget had come out and was currently on the inside of my left leg. I could faintly smell it as my cheeks flushed and I tried desperately not to panic or cry. Again, I looked at the rabit cage. The rabit stared back at me as if to say, "don't even think about it, shit pants." Too bad for you, little rabit! I shifted my left leg so that the heel of my Roo was nearly touching the cage. The rabit backed up just a bit in his cage, afraid. I shook my leg. Tsomo looked at me, wondering why I was convulsing in my left leg. "Leg's asleep, ninja." I said casually. I continued to shake, shimming the shit nugget down my pants until it fell out...a little brown turd about the size of a quarter. I looked around. No one had noticed, so I kicked it next to the rabbit cage, much to the digust and apparent dismay of our class pet. Glancing at my handy work, I realized that the shit nugget looked like a massive rabit turd, and really didn't stand out too badly. I could smell it, but nothing I couldn't pawn off on my furry scapegoat.

The 10:30 recess bell rang loudly a moment later and without so much as a word, I ran to the bathroom for complete, unadulterated release and a little "touch up" work on the inside of my parachute pants. And in the end, I got away scot free! :fmicon:

I got a puppy when I was in second grade, (that was cool)but then he died when I was in college (that wasn't cool).

I remember being about 6 or 7 and I let out a big turd while farting in the bathtub. My mom freaked

In Junior high, I moved to Charleston, West Virginia from Baltimore(city), Maryland and didn't fit in to well. It can be quite a culture shock sometimes, especially dealing with the "reds" in WV. Then I met some friends and was introduced to this special plant. I swear it is the best medicine for curing just about any ailment. Too bad it is illegal to grow or consume. But I have made the best friends since. And unlike the hype, propadanda, or whatever you want to call it, all my friends seem to consume this wonderful plant, and they are all kicking ass in life. :fmicon:

This isn't really cool shit that happened, but one time I was on a ski trip in 10th grade and I hade some seriously potent shit. A buddy and I had been partying all night and we were just sitting on the back of the bus, when the shaperone swears up and down that we were smoking in the back of the bus. Not true, but man that was some potent smelling shit that got me in trouble, but damn it was good. I would like to shake that growers hand for producing such a nice strand. So that was cool.

In 11th grade, I tore my left ear off while mountain biking with out a helmet. Apparently the quick release wasn't tight enough and coming down a fire road, ended up losing the front wheel and supermanning through the air. It was crazy but made my love for the sport go through the roof. I am now a serious addict to that sport. So that was kinda cool too.

I am sure there is a lot of other cool shit, but can't think of anything too cool from the younger days.

Rev, I'll never look at a rabbit cage the same way again.

When I was maybe 8 or 9 we used to have WWF-style wrestling matches with all the kids in the neighborhood over at my neighbor's house. One guy would actually cut out cardboard and wrap it w/ aluminum foil for belts. It got a little out of hand during "Basement Mania", but it eventually disbanded because everyone wanted to have a belt. When someone won the Texas Panhandle belt that was the beginning of the end.

We also had a brief stint with boxing. My best friend was two years older than me and of course a lot of his friends were his age as well. His cousin was also like 2 years older and quite a bit bigger, but pretty much a bully. So, imagine my surprise when one of the first matches was me against the big cousin. Now, we also had a slight problem in that we only had one pair of boxing gloves, so we had to share them - each of us got a hand. He was left-handed and I was right-handed, so both of us had the glove on the desired hand. So, we start the match - no protective gear or anything of course, just a rule that you could only use the gloved hand - and we're going along neither of us getting too many real shots in. Then, somehow, and I really have no idea how, I land a beautiful right hand full force (for a 9 year old) square into his stomach. He goes down like a sack of potatoes, rolling around in agony on the basement carpet. Never had another match. Didn't have too many problems with him anymore, either.

I was on the 9-10 basketball travel team and we beat a team 76-4. I'm not kidding.

First day of school one year, 5th grade I think, I had my hand raised to answer a question, one of those where you really want the teacher to call on you (this passed, fortunately), and I had a pencil in the raised and was kinda nervously twiddling it back and forth in my hand. The teacher called on me I think, and the pen went flying out of my hand and went about an inch over her head, smacking the chalkboard behind her. Good start to the year.

- I broke my first bone when I was 4. I was rolling backwards on a tricycle and my little bird legs couldn't stop me. Over the concrete stairs I went cracking my wrist on the adjacent bricks ( I swear I'm much better on a tricycle now)

- I climbed my first 14er with my family when I was 10 (it was Pikes Peak but it was enough to get me hooked)

- I kissed Mandy Kolp behind my elementary school after a 6th grade roller skating party.....hmmm truth or dare.

- When my friends and I were 14 we lied about our age to get into a wknd ski trip to Killington. When the bus left Ohio we were the only guys under the age of 50 on the bus. It was worth it though, I think it was the first time I got drunk and the first time I hucked my self off a cliff (well, a 10 footer looked big)

Let's see what I can dredge up from the back of my brain:

- In 4th or 5th grade, my family went to Legoland (the original one in Denmark). They had this room with giant sanboxes full of Legos, and a daily building contest. So I put together some sort of animal (maybe a spider) and entered it in the contest. When we came back the next day, I had won!

- Spelling bees: My poor spelling was a running joke in my family. I would regularly bring home elementary school report cards that had straight As except in spelling. In the tenth grade, we had a high school spelling bee. The entrants were supposed to be selected from spelling bees in each english class. However, my english teacher didn't want to waste an entire period on a spelling bee, so instead he gave us a spelling test with about 10 really obscure words. Since I read a lot, I actually recognized a few of the words, and managed to spell more of them correctly than anyone else in the class. A week or so later, on stage, I screwed up one of the first words (for some reason I can't remember the word, but I'm sure it will come back to me later today).

- I had lived in Houston my whole life until the third grade when my family moved to Norway. That was pretty cool and life-changing (especially since I learned to ski there).

When I was like 4, I realized that you can draw on stucco walls with a carrot.

When I was like 7, I peed my stretch pants on the single at MRG. (made for a cold run down as I remember)

When I was like 14, a friend and I mixed Old Grand dad, Johnny Walker red, Absolut and Tang and got wrecked. I took off on my friend and ran across a salt marsh in Essex, MA totally nude. This was at like 4:30 during a summer afternoon so plenty of families were out on their porches watching me.

When I was like 15, I took my mom's Volvo out for a rip and blew the clutch out about 5 miles from home.

When I was like 19, I got arrested for being a minor in posession of alchohol.

There are more stories...but I just realized I was supposed to say somethig positive....so umm.....I was in Talented and Gifted until I discovered pot at like 13.

I played in the Little League World Series (baseball).

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Originally Posted by Keoni

I remember being about 6 or 7 and I let out a big turd while farting in the bathtub. My mom freaked

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Is THAT where you get the "gotta take my shirt off to poop" thing?


*****

I went to the Southern California State Science Fair (Divisional Finals or something) with my project on wing shapes in modified balsawood gliders in San Diego. Some kid took my gliders and threw them out the door in Balboa Park. :fuckyou:

In 2nd grade I found $100 at an amusement park and spent it all trying to win big ass stuffed animals and a basketball :D

When I was about 6 or 7 or somewhere around there, I was over at my friends house, and we were playing down in the basement (he had a lot of cool stuff down there) any way we oppened up a cabinet to find some bottles with some sort of brownish liquid in it (like I said we were 6 or 7 and had no clue what it really was) and we decided that we would have some just to taste it. We wound up drinking a bit more that we had first intended too. The strange thing was neither of us got sick or anything (well maybe a little tipsy) and no one ever found out (actually this is the first time i've ever told anybody) I still dont know exactly what i was drinking.

In kindergarden we used to have these "back to the future" cars (I'm 17 so that wasnt that long ago) They were really cool. When you rolled them on the ground sparks came out of the back (porbably not the best thing to have in a kindergarden class but oh well) I was playing with one of those, and randomley stood up and puked in the middle of the class room over the blue carpet. We had a substitute that day, and she felt really bad for me.

When I was 13 I pumped our babysitter...

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Originally Posted by Knockneed Man

When I was 13 I pumped our babysitter...

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With what? A Supersoaker?

And, I hearby nominate the Reverend for a TGRlitzer Prize in Comedic Writing, for his essay entitled "The Reverend and the Rabbit."

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Originally Posted by Knockneed Man

When I was 13 I pumped our babysitter...

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Y'alls had an inflatable babysiter, eh?

That Crazy christmas singing fag kurt bestor fell on me an airport bus once.
I won a punt pass and kick football deal when i was 6. Never touched a football again.
I broke the hundred pound mark in the ninth grade.

when I was in first or second grade I went to this soft serve ice cream place, when about 3 4th graders started to fuck with me. They decided that it would be funny to hit the bottom of my ice cream so I would hit my face. Little did they know that form age 3 to about 10 i knew no fear and had a bad temper problem.. after the ice crem hit my face and I realized what had happened. I truned to the kid, shoved the ice cream cone in his face (got his good) and kicked him in the balls (I was a fairly tall kid), and ran like hell. Somehow I got away.

Blow Job - Sixth grade

Edit - got one, didn't give one, and a female gave it.

I was slash burning at Red Mountain, I lit a pile on fire that was piled poorly and caused a small forest fire. It made for some great tree skiing. Eventually they removed the burned trees and widened the run.

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Originally Posted by Mcwop

Blow Job - Sixth grade

Edit - got one, didn't give one, and a female gave it.

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For a second I thought you went to a Catholic grade school.

As anyone who has played youth hockey in the sticks knows, you have to drive a long way for games, and usually stay overnight. Well, we had our yearly game against some boarding school that always kicked our butts, and a bunch of us got into a big pillow fight in the dorm, and the pillows were old and busted open.

They were real feather pillows.

It was like a snowstorm, but indoors. The entire bunk room was inches deep in feathers by the time we were done.

I got suspended for one game, but it was worth it.

From the 1st grade until the 6th grade I was chauffeur-driven to and from school in a black pimped-out Mercedes Benz S-class with Diplomatic plates and an armed chaueffeur/bodyguard.

This resulted in immunity to wedgies and bullying, teachers were very lenient, and I got out of detention by having said chauffeur/bodyguard show up to get me.

:D

When I was about 10 or 11 my best friend/neighbor and I used to go on hikes all the time. We lived right against the mountains of Brigham City and it was easy to take off and be gone for extended periods of time. One time instead of going hiking we decided to go walking, and headed towards the vast metropolis that is Brigham City. Our first stop was a 7-11. While there we ate some 5-cent candies and played some arcade games. Then we went out behind the 7-11. The 7-11 had a large cinderblock wall (maybe 10 feet high that made the area behind the 7-11 somewhat private. It was there that we found the needles and a confused Mexican janitor. We took turns stabbing each other with the needles (to see who was tougher) while the Mexican janitor mumbled something to a trash bag. My friend said he was starting to get dizzy. It was about then the Mexican janitor stood up and hoisted himself into the dumpster. I started to feel a little dizzy too. Then we both started laughing. We looked into the dumpster and the Mexican janitor was simultaneously masturbating and vomiting. There was a half-open bag of dead kittens in the dumpster as well. We were already walking away when we heard the gun shot. We climbed up the back of the cinder block wall and walked along the top of the wall until it met the side of the 7-11. We climbed up onto the roof and saw the man run from the store. I don't think either of us have ever told anyone we were there that day until probably now. I'd spent so long keeping it in that it's like it never happened at all and I made it up on the spot right here, because I didn't feel like working and I was bored. (Which I did.)

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Originally Posted by Grange

For a second I thought you went to a Catholic grade school.

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That would be true if the Nun gave it, but it was Public school.

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Originally Posted by Mcwop

Blow Job - Sixth grade

Edit - got one, didn't give one, and a female gave it.

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Spit or swallow?

Rev's story - brilliant, fabulous, too funny to read while eating french fries.

When I was in kindergarten, my skirt fell off in the play ground (it was a wrapround with pink and green elephants on it).

When I was in 2nd grade or so, I drank a cup of punch really fast and accidentally spit it all out in front of everyone.

When I was in 7th grade I was trying to flirt with a cute boy only to realize that he and his friends were giggling at me. Because my fly was down.

Notice a theme here? Let me just say, these types of stories go on and on - it would take me days to record them all.

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Originally Posted by meatdrink9

When I was about 10 or 11 my best friend/neighbor and I used to go on hikes all the time. We lived right against the mountains of Brigham City and it was easy to take off and be gone for extended periods of time. One time instead of going hiking we decided to go walking, and headed towards the vast metropolis that is Brigham City. Our first stop was a 7-11. While there we ate some 5-cent candies and played some arcade games. Then we went out behind the 7-11. The 7-11 had a large cinderblock wall (maybe 10 feet high that made the area behind the 7-11 somewhat private. It was there that we found the needles and a confused Mexican janitor. We took turns stabbing each other with the needles (to see who was tougher) while the Mexican janitor mumbled something to a trash bag. My friend said he was starting to get dizzy. It was about then the Mexican janitor stood up and hoisted himself into the dumpster. I started to feel a little dizzy too. Then we both started laughing. We looked into the dumpster and the Mexican janitor was simultaneously masturbating and vomiting. There was a half-open bag of dead kittens in the dumpster as well. We were already walking away when we heard the gun shot. We climbed up the back of the cinder block wall and walked along the top of the wall until it met the side of the 7-11. We climbed up onto the roof and saw the man run from the store. I don't think either of us have ever told anyone we were there that day until probably now. I'd spent so long keeping it in that it's like it never happened at all and I made it up on the spot right here, because I didn't feel like working and I was bored. (Which I did.)

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:eek: :eek: or :fmicon: :fmicon: . Not sure.

I heart Meatdrink. And I laughed my ass off @ Funken (esp. with his avatar) & Rev. Splat's story nearly brough a tear to my ehe


In 8th grade shop class I nearly sliced the tip of my index finger off with a band saw. It was just hanging off the side by one last flap of skin. I musta been in shock or something because I didn't feel a thing. It was pretty cool acting all tough and calmly walking up to the nurse's off holding my finger out like nothing at all happened.

Senior year HS -- I was captain of the soccer team and we went undefeated and won like every title imaginable (except states). The three years prior to this we won a grand total of 2 games...so it was pretty cool.

First cool thing was me beating out my nemesis (and royally pissing off his prick old man) by winning the provincial overall title in the last race of the year, my last year in the Nancy Greene racing league.

The coolest thing happened the next year. Me and my good buddy had been the only two guys racing out of this small local ski club for many years. The coach quit just before I turned 16 but we kept on paying our dues and racing under the club name for the next two years.

What this meant for us was weekly unsupervised skis trips around the province with my Dad giving me the car keys and a decent amount of spending money every weekend. Me and my buddy basically spent the next two seasons hosting parties in our motel room at every race, polluting the minds and bodies of impressionable kids with bad attitudes, evil headbanger music, beer, and assorted substances. Jumping, freeskiing, and putting cars in ditches were the new priorities. No coach or adult of any kind to rein in our antics on or off the hill. Fun factor went way up, racing results went way down. I'll give up the fact that the province was Manitoba :wink: but it was pretty cool times for me.

When I was in second grade I lived for recess. I always had a grand time teeter tottering, swinging and pretending I was doing something really important on the big wooden contraption with useless steering wheels and tires and shit.

Anyways... I remember one day I was outside at recess and my bladder felt especially full and I knew I had to piss real bad. So I asked the "aide" (thats what they called the people who stood around while we ran all over the place) if I could go back inside to use the bathroom. After being denied my basic right to use a toilet i realized that I had to take matters into my own hands and find a nice place to take a piss. I located a big ol tree just next to a slide or something and I ran over there and positioned myself so that no one could see what I was doing. Ahhhhhhhh. Relief........

Just then I heard giggling and I looked over my shoulder to see two girls pointing and laughing at me. Now for some reason at the age of 7 I was very freaked out at the thought of girls watching me pee so I bolted across the large field behind the school with my pants around my thighs and I eventually was stopped by a big chain link fence. Somehow I managed to cut my forehead on it... I still have a small scar.

Another pee related incident happened when I was dating my girlfriend in 97 (who is now my wife) I had to pee real bad, but the lift line I was in was impossible to get out of. Breckenridge, Peak 9, Falcon chair i think, so I held it in with the intent of watering the bushes at the top. After loading the chair with my girl on my left and her parents friends taking up the other 2 chairs to her left we were on our way. I was dreaming of the moment when I would pull into the woods and let er rip when the chair stopped cold. We swung in silence as I looked wide eyed at my girl with the look that said it all. A few minutes passed. I tried to meditate. ok breathe. just breathe...the chair will start soon, always does. I smiled plasticly at the 2 friends of my girl's parents. Oh god did I have to piss. Buzzing. I heard buzzing. A snowmobile. A snowmobile with 2 guys in liftie garb zip up underneath us. Crap this is not good. I could feel my bladder filling to the brim like a water balloon at the end of a sink's faucet. I knew it was coming.

" Excuse me , but if I dont go Im gonna piss myself." I said. I didnt care anymore. I pulled out my business and pissed a nice long steady arc over the armrest down to the snow 45 feet below. I looked left into the eyes of my horrified girlfriend and I thought. "Oh well, it was nice while it lasted."

" You know, " said the wife of my girlfriends father's friend, " I have to go too, and I would do the same thing if I could."

It was a nice gesture...

cant believe she married me after that....