Non-football related stuff that really makes your day

[Malto Marko]

Got another one for ya.

While I grew up in a suburb of Detroit, there was still a lot of farm land in the suburb I lived in. We had three major farms within about a half mile bike ride from my subdivision. One of them was owned by the parent of a schoolmate, the other two were unfriendly loners.

One of the unfriendly owners used to pedal his veggies in our subdivision every week in the summer. We had a German Shephard pup that was about 16 weeks old and he knocked on our door wanting to know if we wanted to sell him. The answer was an unequivical no.

He came back later that evening and asked my Dad if the dog was for sale and we told Dad he had asked earlier and we told him no. Dad reassured him the decision had not changed. The farmer then offered free veggis for the entire summer. Dad still refused.

Our pup disappeard two days later. We suspected where he might be and the next day we snuck on to his property to see. Sure enough, our pup was chained in his barn.

We told Dad as soon as he got home from work and Dad called the police. Dad and my older brother went over there with the police. The farmer denied anything and because the pup was in the garage, the were not allowed to go in as the farmer would not allow it.

We stole our way in again the next day as we were going to steal him back only to find he was no longer there.

For the next 5 years the coil wire, spark plugs, oil pan nuts, and break line nuts kept disappearing on the Farmers tractor. We planned most of our devilish pranks to be timed for when he needed his equipment the most.

He bought a couple of dogs to keep us off the property but they were not as good of guard dogs as he would have liked because they wanted attention that he would not give them and we would visit them and make friends.

[Marko69]

Did anyone ever find out if he'd sold your families pup on to someone else?

[bimmer84]

Why, yes.

As an 11 year old living in a subdivision that had a lot of diversity and everyone banging their chests, a couple of doors down we had an over protective Dad who used to threaten the kids in the hood because ......well, he could not manage to martriculate.

When we used to play baseball in the street, he used to come out and threaten to call the police if we kept playing on his property. It did not deter us from playing baseball in the street but, if the ball landed on his front grass, it was automatically foul. The game then had to stop until someone was brave enough to retrieve the ball.

.....So, ......(you like how this is going so far?)

We schemed to start a game right about dusk because the dude would come home from work then lay around in his underwear as air conditioning was not a common feature in our neighborhood.

Our best hitter hit a suckerball to put a fly ball right in the middle of his front yard. Our fastest runner was fielding the ball. Dude came barrelling out of the house in his underwear chasing the fielder while the rest of the gang threw balloons filled with shaving cream in front onto the pavement which caused him to slip and fall, right under the streetlight. He sprung to his feet threatening to kill us all.

My Dad got a visit immediatly following, in only froot of the loom briefs and shaving cream all over him demanding we be punished.

My Dad laughed him off our porch then kicked our asses.

Ah, the good ol' days. In our neighborhood the irritating neighbor was Mrs. Baldwin. She was always calling the cops on us for minor infractions, like setting off firecrackers, or setting fire to the leaves she left out at the curb to be picked up. She just didn't like us.

My older brother was the mastermind for most of our mischief. He was into model rocketry and RC airplanes at the time, so he decided one day to mount a rocket engine on an airplane and see how that would work out. Mrs. Baldwin lived right next door, and our yard wouldn't support a rocket-powered airplane - too many trees. The best spot to launch turned out to be Baldwin's front yard, so we waited for darkness, set up at the curb, and lit the fuse.

Like many of my brother's experiments, it didn't go as planned, which was probably good in a neighborhood of narrow streets and close built homes. The plane was airborne just a couple of seconds before the rocket motor burned the elevator and rudder off, and it crashed before it could hit the house across the street. Baldwin's leaves started on fire at launch, and burned nicely in the darkness. We retrieved what was left of the airplane, stomped the leaf fire out, and ran for cover.

The cops rang our doorbell about twenty minutes later and my brother and I answered the door. He asked for our parents, but they were out and we were dumbstruck, so he gave us a "I know you did it" and left shaking his head.

[Malto Marko]

Did anyone ever find out if he'd sold your families pup on to someone else?

No. He was never seen again and the Farmer was sure not admitting to anything.

[Malto Marko]

Good ole days, indeed, Bim.

[Marko69]

No. He was never seen again and the Farmer was sure not admitting to anything.

That's actually quite a horrific story, Malto. That old bastard is making Mrs Pryor sound not all that bad. Hope the dog didn't suffer in any way.

[Marko69]

Strapping rockets to model airplanes?!! awesome!

[DanO]

Idiot in Bulgaria smoking at a gas pump gets taught a lesson by the gas station attendant:

https://youtu.be/7AzaHtImEO4

I had a woman do this a couple weeks ago. I bitched at her. She told me to fuck off. I told the attendant who called the police. She left in a rush when I told her the police were on the way. Still can't believe that stupid bitch was smoking at a gas station and putting everyones life at risk. Don't give a shit about her life. If she's that stupid she deserves to be blown up by herself.

[edindetroit]

The young guy is obviously the stereotypical modern day bellend, but the old guy is definitely a bit of an overreacting twat.

Or maybe there is a bit of history between them that we don't know about.

[Malto Marko]

That's actually quite a horrific story, Malto. That old bastard is making Mrs Pryor sound not all that bad. Hope the dog didn't suffer in any way.

While we had no proof, we believed he killed him because we had the cops visit and if the dog was ever spotted on his property, he could be charged with theft.

We made his working life miserable for about 5 years. My best friend lived two lots over and we had intel on him every day of the month.

[Panoptes]

Sorry, don't feel like going to jail for confessions here. ;)

[Malto Marko]

Sorry, don't feel like going to jail for confessions here. ;)

:D

[Malto Marko]

Well, this makes my day today.

Saturday night, watching the Michigan-Michigan State game I tried to get my Sr. dog to come into the house as it was soon going to start raining hard.

Both of my dogs have been on the hunt for the last two weeks. They ask to go outside constantly then they stay out a lot longer than they usually do and ocassionally I had to go out to coax them back into the house. I knew it would only be a matter of time until they were sucessful.

Strangely, the pup refused to go outside while the Senior dog, Lola, wanted out every 5 minutes and lingered. Well, Lola would not come in. I went out to coax her in and she kept running around the garage. Now, I know her well and she does not usually expend too much energy if she doesn't have to so I figured she was asking me to come look at something.

I started to the back of the garage and saw what looked like a huge rat laying on the concrete between the garage and the fenceline. I went into the house to get a flashlight to see what I was dealing with. I was surprised to find a young opossum. Sadly, I picked him up by the tail and put him into a compost bag that was half full of grass clippings.

The dog calmed down then came into the house.

The next morning I took tailgunner out to show him what the dogs had captured. When we gazed into the bag, the critter opened his mouth and hissed at us. Uh, oh. Now we have a delimma. I thought the critter was dead but it is still alive and likely with a broken neck or back given the way my dogs catch varmits. What should we do? We determined the only humane thing to do was to put it down quickly instead of letting it suffer.

I gathered the items necessary to get the job done and we once again opened the bag. This time not only did we get hissed at, but he moved his front legs. Oh, oh. No broken neck. Using a long screwdriver we touched his tail and it reacted to the touch. Oh, oh, no broken back, either.

Ok, what do we do? Well, the critter had been in the bag for almost a whole day with no food or water. I tossed in a couple of fat green grapes to see if it would eat. Checking on him the next morning, the grapes were gone and he was balled up like a dog snoozing.

I tossed in another hand full of grapes and headed off to work. While at work I googled a critter help center and waaa laaa! There is one that has a local phone number. I call the number only to have it go immediately to voicemail and proclaim that the number owner has not set up their mailbox.

I call local animal control to get a recording to leave my name, address and phone number and someone will return my call. About 3 hours later, I get a call from my local PD animal control. I explain the situation. She says, lay the bag down and the critter will walk away. I say, no, I want to relocate it because I don't want it to find refuse in my garage and die then I have to hunt down the smell. She insists not relocating, just dump the bag.

Nope. Not gunna happen. After getting home, I checked and all of the grapes I gave it earlier were gone. I threw another handful of grapes in the bag waiting for one of the kids to come home to help me transport to a more suitable area. Well, no one came home till after dark so, so much for that idea. I checked on him again and again, he had eaten all of his grapes and he was very alert now. I threw another handful of grapes in the bag and retired for the evening.

This morning, I check and he is very alert but no more hissing just staring at me. I grab a hand full of grapes and prepare to relocate him. I load the grass bag in the car and drive to Hines Park (a local area that is used for recreation and is the ideal place for a young opossum to survive). I find a nice secluded section and proceed to tip the bag sideways to allow him to escape. He trys to burrow into the grass clippings as if to say "I don't wanna leave this nice soft bed". I gently coax him out with a shovel and to my great delight, he saunters off into the woods.

Woo, Hoo! Win, win! This little guy does not know how lucky he was.

[DanO]

"I started to the back of the garage and saw what looked like a huge rat laying on the concrete between the garage and the fenceline."
--------------------------------------My ex told me there was a rat in the woodpile one time. I went out to look. I went back in and told her it wasn't a rat it was an opossum.

[-Deborah-]

Good job, Mark!