Thinking about my wild escapades with women more than 50 pounds (11-18 years) ago, I harken back to one of the wierdest things that ever happened to me; and I was not able to do a thing about it.

Sept. 1996, my cousin died of a heart attack. We went home to the funeral; which was on a Saturday. He was a school bus driver, and much older than I was; he was well-loved in the community- so the church was packed.

A lot of people came from out of town to attend his funeral- a lot of old classmates, and one girl that had never left home. She and I had experienced a lot of "firsts" together, but she was never really my girlfriend, as much as we were each others 'play-thing'. But, she wanted me, but being on the chunky side, and fearful of what my friends might say if I was caught with "the fat girl" I never pursued a public relationship with her. (Although she wasn't really fat; she just had huge "glands" that made her look fat.)

I'd been married for two years, and she knew it- having come to my reception, albeit uninvited. After the funeral we were at my cousin's gravesite. We were standing maybe 3-4 feet from the edge of the grave and the preacher spoke/prayed over his grave as his body was entered into the ground. Standing in line was my Sister, my Mother, my Wife, and I on the far end.

As we all stood heads bowed- the girl, whom I'll refer to as "Ann" walked past Sis, Mom, my wife and I, and turned tightly next to me brushing my arm. As she disappeared behind my shoulder, I felt her grab my *ss and hold it for maybe 2.79 seconds, release it and go about her way. (Preacher is still praying) I'm sure I flinched just a little bit, not expecting anythign like that- but being cautious not to announce anything. Beig the honest guy that I was,I'd told my wife about her (because she always kept riding past the house any time I'd come home). If she'd had any clue that Ann had touched me like that, there would have been some s**t, right there in the cemetary. (You guys ever seen two black women fight?)

No words were exchanged, she had her fun and left- as the preacher kept praying. I never- ever told my wife about that, not even to this day. Did anyone else see her? I don't know... I guess she was having a flashback or something... (Or was mad that I married a "city-girl" and came home with her. I felt so violated... (Do it again...)

Talk about taking advantage of an opportunity, in a place where options for retaliation/rebuttal were limited; that was it... Almost as bad as feeling someone up, while they're driving...

That's the wierdest thing that ever happened to me...

She still has the hots for me- I saw her in the mall at Christmas (2004), and she gave me that look... I guess it's good to know that if wifey ever acts up; I have somewhere to go for "comfort".

 

Who's 50 lbs, hers or yours?

 

Mine...

 

Wouldn't matter- I'm married now...

Move past the weight....

 

Good story man....well written.

 

Cia...how many words can you type a minute? Your a machine.

Anywho.

I wouldnt say it was weird, but my experience was shocking. When I was in Okinawa, Japan (MCAS FUTENMA) me and a few buddies found a body that washed up on the beach. Well, it wasn't a "beach", like a public beach, but you know what I mean.

I will never forget that smell. You could barely tell what is was, except it was a female...

Here's the story.

Apparently, her and her husband had been scuba diving one day. They dived everyday. Well on this day, they got seperated when the husband went top side, and she stayed below. She never came up.

2 weeks later her "body" washed up to shore, and me and a few other buddies found what was left of her body.

 

Lets see. I saw a ghost when I was 15 or 16. My brother saw it too because he came running (or should I say "Falling") down the stairs and he was scared senseless. His eyes were as big as half-dollars, he was white as a ghost. All he could say is it was floating, had the figure of a man, and it was black with red eyes.

And at about the same time, a mirror just flew off the wall and shattered right were I was laying in the floor when I was watching tv. Luckily I saw it coming, and my Mom screamed, and I rolled out of the way. I think all this happened because we were playing with a ouijji board with my neighbor. I know, I had a weird childhood. This is all a true story. Hard to fathom huh? Believe it? Or Not?

 

WPM: About 60-70. I could do more if I was confident in my keystrokes, and didn't have to look at the keys to type.

On the old "Elite" font, IBM typewritters, that I learened (in so many words) how to type on, I was pounding out about 47 words per minute (corrected). The teacher told me that if I could get the confidence to let my fingers go, I could probably burn the machine up. 20 years later, I'm still hunting & pecking.

On the PC, that moved up to 62.... I don't think I've improved much beyond that, but if I'm typing from my head, I am probably closer to 70 WPM. Copying text, Probably between 50 & 60.

My Mom's secretary could type 120 words per minute, and Mr. Turner, my teacher- could do about 105.... They were machines indeed.

My wife does about 80-87, according to Mavis Beacon (1997)

I'd never play with those boards. But, there were two ghosts in my Aunt's trailer. I saw them, she saw them, my Mom & cousing saw them. One night my aunt started screaming for them to get teh H*LL out of her house, and they went away...

If you looked down the hallway, you could see the outline of a tall skinny man wearing a hat, and a short fat man. They never did anything to us, or them- but, we could all see their outlines- all they did was stand there.

And, that's no lie.

 

I believe you cia. Needless to say, I haven't been playing with those boards since then. Some people don't believe in spirits or ghosts...until they see one.

 

CIA, you are da man Getting felt up at a funeral. I would love to hang out sometime and here some of these stories over a beer or two.

Anyway, I was once in a Hijack Hostage Hell Scenario

A good few years ago, I was working in offshore in Angola and the chopper came in to pick us up from the rig. Have to note here that the chopper company was an Angolan one due to regulation.
We took off (it was a Sikorsky S76) and started flying back to the heliport in The Congo where we were based.
If you've ever flown in one of these small choppers it's pretty cool, you can see everything. Naturally, if your on the first row of seats, you have a quick peek at the gauges. Lots to read. Well, everything was fine except that both the needles on the fuel gauge were on the E.
Not to worry, it's like a truck and eventually a light comes on and there were still plenty of rigs around. Obviously, we were going to stop off and fill up somewhere else.
Soooo, we keep flying and eventualy the little blinky light comes on. By this time, the two pilots were getting a bit animated. I was getting a bit nervous.
Also, just to add to the fun, ahead of us was the biggest tropical storm I have ever seen. It was like a black curtain about 10 miles ahead. Surely we were not going to fly into it especially with no fuel. Just to compound the fun, about half a mile before we reached the storm, one of the pilots reaches up and SHUTS DOWN ONE ENGINE. ARRGHHHHHH!!!!!!
Well, the obvious happened, we flew into the storm and it's like being on the worlds best rollercoaster. Lighting was zapping all around us like something from Star Wars and the remaining engine starts to misfire. Probably sucking a lot of water by this time.
Next, the engine cuts and the pilot gives the "ditching, ditching" command. Great, we are going into the sea. The pilots sets the now plummeting chopper to autorotate and we drop like a stone. I have tightened my belt, and braced for impact.
Suddenly, instead of a huge spash like I'm anticipating, we hit the ground and bounce up again. Where the f*ck did that come from? It turns out we were over this little island in the ocean that we couldn't see. Hooray!!!!! Saved!!!
Eventually we bounce to a halt and everybody looks around stunned. The pilots start laughing hysterically and we give hi-fives all round.

Till we notice the signs that say "WARNING MINEFIELD" Really, I'm not making this up.
Then, a raggled bunch of troops with AK47's and scruffy uniforms come out of the trees and head for us in the chopper.Obviously, they are not happy to see us. We get out at gunpoint and its face down in the mud time for a bit of questioning. Fortunately, one of the guys on the chopper speaks French and it turns out that this island is disputed territory between Zaire and Angola. They fight over it on a regular basis. All these troops are from Zaire. We are a bunch of white guys in a chopper with an Angolan flag painted on the side. Bugger!!!!!!
Eventually, some officers show up and there's a protracted discussion as to whether to a)shoot us as mercenaries, b) hold us to ransom c) something else.
In the end, the French speaker convinces the officer that we are oil workers and they will be in serious trouble for holding us. As in a SEAL type rescue to get us back. (No chance whatsoever)
So after a day, they force us back in the chopper and tell us to leave. This is after taking everything except the clothes we are standing in. Kit bags, watches, passports, cash and even our boots.
Rather cheekily, we asked if they could give us some fuel but this was refused. We took off (just) on one engine and flew about another 20 miles over the sea at about 15 ft till we got into Kabinda. There, we just scraped into a PRI Helicopters (Go Canada) landing strip where they gave us food, drinks and fuel to get back into Pointe Noire in The Congo.

I'd say that was weird and uncomfortable.

 

Hell yea, now that's a story.

 

Excellent, Adam - great story. Who is going to be the first to follow THAT? Not I...lol

 

Damn Adam! So much for my "One time, at a bar..." story!

 

EA,

that was amazing. I fear my life will never be so entertaining. Heck I've never left the Eastern Time zone. :o

Mind if I borrow that for my grand kids?

JIm

 

Baby got back