Tell me a story.

[RJ 17]

Now this is a story all about how my life got flipped, turned upside-down. I'd like to take a minute, so just sit right there, I'll tell you how I became the prince of a town called Bel-Air. In west Philadelphia, born and raised, on the playground is where I spent most of my days. Chillin' out max and relaxin' all cool and shootin' some b-ball outside the school. When a couple of guys who were up to no good started making trouble in my neighborhood. I got in one little fight and my mom got scared and said "You're moving to your Auntie and Uncle's in Bel-Air."

I begged and pleaded with her day after day but she packed my suitcase and sent me on my way. She gave me a kiss and she gave me my ticket, so I put on my Walkman and said "Might as well kick it!"

First class, yo' this is bad! Drinkin' orange juice out of a champagne glass! Is this what people in Bel-Air look like? Hmmm, this might be alright! I whistled for a cab and when it came near, the license said "fresh" and there were dice in the mirror. If anything, I could tell that this cab was rare. But I thought "Nah, forget it. Yo' Homes, to Bel Air!

I pulled up to the house at about seven or eight, and I yelled to the cabbie "Yo' Homes, smell ya later!" I looked at my kingdom, I was finally there to sit on my throne as the Prince of Bel-Air.

Want another one?

A man walked into his house and demanded to know why his wife did it. In tears she said "I don't know!" And the man's best friend shot her. The End.

 

[Ruedyn]

Alright, I think I got something, though I'll be keeping names and specifics out of it.

Okay, one time a long time ago when I was a kid of about 10 years, I was bullied. A lot. I was the usual combo of glasses, funny accent, and not threatening looking that it seems brawny motherfuckers love picking on. I went to this soulless babysitting factory where they would put us in this big general area while a couple of 20 somethings who thought they'd be doing more in life and an elderly Russian lady made sure we weren't dying from... things, I guess?

Being just out of the insanely abusive hands of my old babysitter (details too sad to go into here) I was feeling... well, not confident, but I definitely had a look of hope in my eye. Apparently this was less than acceptable. I had 1 real bully, and then a few kids who cracked wise and generally stayed away from me cause I got punched in the face a lot. The bully, however, was relentless.

This guy was also dumb, slow, shit like that really. I think he was blonde hair and a vehicular homicide attempt away from being an 80's high school movie villain (or my mind is fucking with me). I had no Mr. Miyagi, unfortunately, I only had knowledge on my side.

One day, one day after multiple months of getting my face and other bits (not there) punched, I had had quite enough. And we were to go to the park for one of our Birthdays. I pretty much headed straight for the sand box and didn't look back as the rest did other kid things. I played for awhile, until he approached.

I should've noticed something, the frustrated mumbling was the best hint, but I didn't. I waited for him to get close, filled my hand with sand, and turned around with a "WATAAAAAH" that'd make Bruce Lee rise from his grave to give me a pat on the head, and threw the sand right into his eyes.

... Making him drop the cake he was supposed to deliver to me and swear loudly and colorfully to the heavens. I ran as fast and hard as I could to the nearby Library and hid for the next hour or so. I think they hunted for me, but to the bullies credit he didn't really explain HOW the sand got into his eyes. I think he wanted to make it more personal, but I am unsure.

Although, there was a witness to my deed. The birthday boy himself! He actually thought it was pretty awesome, and we ended up spending most our time in the Library as the babysitting supervisor tried to find us in the park. Turns out he didn't like most the stuff I liked, but I looked past that in the name of FRIENDSHIP!

Anyways I got the tar beaten out of me the next day, but he got in trouble for it and got watched a lot closer. Almost worth the concussion.

 

[RJ 17]

"For sale. Babies shoes. Never worn."

-Ernest Hemingway.

Jeff was a huge fan of Ernest Hemmingway, to the extent that he wanted to live his life exactly like the author he adored: he intended to write a number of brilliant novels and then kill himself. Unfortunately for Jeff, he wasn't very good at writing. So he just killed himself.

 

[Clade-170]

Hmmm, what to tell...(rubs chin) alright I got it, I call it the...

Spoiler: RISING ABOVE THE CROWDS

on the 8th of February 1996 at exactly 08:15 hrs my life had begone. In the small
desert town of Victorville in Southern California. I was raised in straight desert places,
were talking literally, the middle of fucking no where, but yet I love deserts.
something about being able to see for miles and miles that made me feel...free and myself.
I was brought up in a rather not so privileged family, so we couldnt afford most things
other kids took for granite, numerous toys being one of them. I also struggled to make
friends at school.


The very first toys I can remember actually...owning, was a little green bag of
soldiers with green tank and a little robot action figure I can fit on the palm of
my hands. Now, to you, that may not of seemed like anything but to me, they were
priceless artifacts at the time. So, I figured Id bring them to school and show them
to other kids and maybe make some friends. Every one only looked at me as if I was
the biggest loser on the face of this Earth. I dont know what it was, it was like
everyone had a pre determined hatred for me, even my own teachers and bus drivers
for that matter.


It was only after moving clear across the country to the state of North Carolina that
things seemed to turn for the better. I arrived in the month of November 2006, as to
the day and time im uncertain, I was 10. The schools out here are diffrent from the
ones of my upbringing, yes their were some douchbags here and their but I managed.
Things especially gotten better when I got into High school. If their is one thing you
need to know about me is that I am a Dreamer, an aspirere. One of my longest dreams
I clinged onto with all my passion is that one day...I will earn the Title of
"Astronaut". It is this dream and my love for god that pushed me to always improve
myself. After High school I plan to join the Air force, and to prepare myself for that
Im currently in my Schools JROTC program. I can say with great pride that I will be
a Platoon sergeant in my Junior year coming up.


I no longer take shit from no one, and I can say with absolute confidence, the day
I decided to no longer please the crowd but be myself, was perhaps the most liberating
act Iv ever done. One day I hope to look back to the earth on missions of exploration
and think about all Iv ben through, all the nay Sayers and how wrong they were.

well...that's my story thus far.

 

[Fox12]

"For sale. Babies shoes. Never worn."

-Ernest Hemingway.

Jeff was a huge fan of Ernest Hemmingway, to the extent that he wanted to live his life exactly like the author he adored: he intended to write a number of brilliant novels and then kill himself. Unfortunately for Jeff, he wasn't very good at writing. So he just killed himself.

Hmmm. I think someones a little passive aggressive this evening

 

[RJ 17]

"For sale. Babies shoes. Never worn."

-Ernest Hemingway.

Jeff was a huge fan of Ernest Hemmingway, to the extent that he wanted to live his life exactly like the author he adored: he intended to write a number of brilliant novels and then kill himself. Unfortunately for Jeff, he wasn't very good at writing. So he just killed himself.

Hmmm. I think someones a little passive aggressive this evening

Nah, I was just quoting from an old...old...OLD web-comic series called The Parking Lot is Full. Think of it as The Far Side only tripping acid. :3

 

[Fox12]

"For sale. Babies shoes. Never worn."

-Ernest Hemingway.

Jeff was a huge fan of Ernest Hemmingway, to the extent that he wanted to live his life exactly like the author he adored: he intended to write a number of brilliant novels and then kill himself. Unfortunately for Jeff, he wasn't very good at writing. So he just killed himself.

Hmmm. I think someones a little passive aggressive this evening

Nah, I was just quoting from an old...old...OLD web-comic series called The Parking Lot is Full. Think of it as The Far Side only tripping acid. :3

No worries, I thought it was pretty funny either way, haha.

 

[RJ 17]

"For sale. Babies shoes. Never worn."

-Ernest Hemingway.

Jeff was a huge fan of Ernest Hemmingway, to the extent that he wanted to live his life exactly like the author he adored: he intended to write a number of brilliant novels and then kill himself. Unfortunately for Jeff, he wasn't very good at writing. So he just killed himself.

Hmmm. I think someones a little passive aggressive this evening

Nah, I was just quoting from an old...old...OLD web-comic series called The Parking Lot is Full. Think of it as The Far Side only tripping acid. :3

No worries, I thought it was pretty funny either way, haha.

Here's the comic in question:

Looks like I was a bit off, but I was quoting from memory. :3

And here's another one of my favorites:

The series ended in 2002, but I loved the often dark and twisted sense of humor it had, as seen in the Hemmingway comic.

 

[Evil Smurf]

Boi seez gyrl
Boi: sho mi ur tyts
Girl: noeway, faqu
Lyk if u cri evey tiem.

 

[xmbts]

Well one time I was walking in the woods and was attacked by several dozen bees, because the psychotically territorial creatures thought it'd be good to live in a hole in the ground.

In any case it was a bad Tuesday, I've got tons of stories apparently.

 

[CrimsonBlaze]

I've got one that might top the OPs.

Once upon a time, one of my parents heard in the news about a 15 year old kid that accidentally killed his younger friend while practicing wrestling moves on him. Due to me being a straight A, obedient, and responsible kid, who happened to be 13 at the time and watched wrestling on TV, my parent fought fiercely with the school district in order for my younger sibling to be admitted to another school besides the one I attended until I was in high school.

So yeah, overprotective parents FTW.

 

[Muspelheim]

Once, in the far away lands of Nod, king Nikovaduk prayed loudly in his tent. The Anonymerians, his greatest and most powerful foes, had sworn to beseiege and utterly destroy the rising cities of Nod, leaving nought but desert wasteland and horrible tales of their defilation behind.
Nikovaduk prayed for long, day and night, burning insense and every respectable goatloin in Nuum-Dur. He prayed not for the Gods to strike down the Anonymerians, for he knew the Gods would not respect a king that cannot spill blood by his own arm. Instead, he prayed for a weapon. A machine for war, that would lead him and his people to victorious glory.

On the sixth day, he succumbed to sleep. And when he rose on the seventh dawn, the Gods had heard him, and rewarded his faith. His mighty weapon stood outside his tent. It was a plow.
Puzzled by the foresight of the Gods at first, king Nikovaduk put this new contraption to good use. Before long, this unlikely weapon of the Makers had devastated all enemies of Nod. But instead of desert and lost ruins, the conquered lands were covered by lush fields of bountiful harvest.
The cities of Nod never hungered again.

At least until those smelly Hematites researched combine harvesters.

 

[Zhukov]

My family keeps a small flock of ducks.

One day a hawk came and killed a mother duck and all but out of her ducklings, leaving us with the one little orphan.

We ended up raising him ourselves. He was grey with flecks of black and made little "mip-mip" noises. I named him Pisa because he couldn't stand up straight. He was sorta front-heavy, to keep his balance he had to keep walking forwards and the only way he could stop was by falling on his face. He was small enough that he could - and would - curl up and go to sleep in the palm of my hand.

We fed him on bread soaked in milk. It was summer at the time and we used to get a lot of flies around the windows. So we'd sit him on the windowsill and he'd go tearing unsteadily back and forth chasing flies. He got good enough at it that he'd catch them more often than not.

We made nest for him with some old clothes and a cardboard box and kept it on a shelf above the oven. When he was in it he'd stick his head over the top of the box and watch the goings on.

When he got bigger we managed to re-integrate him with the rest of the flock. As far as I know, he's still living a happy ducky life.

Ha! And you thought this story was going to have a sad ending.

 

[sky14kemea]

Oh good, I have a story that I want to tell people on Skype but they've heard it before, so I can re-tell it here!

When I was 17 I asked for a surprise party from my friends. I know that asking for a surprise party isn't a surprise, but it was a challenge for them. Fortunately, my friends at the time were all smart-asses, so they actually managed to pull it off.

It was a week and a half until my birthday, so naturally I didn't expect anything yet. My friend had mentioned going to town to buy something for her dad, but since she hadn't given me a definite yes, I rang her up and asked if she still wanted to go. (She knew me pretty well, I get bored on the weekends so I always look for an excuse to wander around).

Little did I know, a few days earlier my other friend had rang my house, but asked to speak to my mother instead of me. He asked if she could let them in on saturday after I'd left the house, so they could set up. My mum is pretty nice, so she agreed and didn't even hint at me.

Anyway, my friend started hinting that she wanted to go home, but I wanted to keep shopping, because I was oblivious to their shenanigans. We eventually got home 2 hours later than she'd planned, 'cause I'm a jerk like that. I asked if she wanted to come up to my house for a bit (I always ask that whenever I come back with a friend, 'cause I hate walking up my hill alone in the evening). She sighed and said "Okay, but only for an hour." and fake-reluctantly came with me.

When I walked in the house, the lights were off, so I just assumed my mum had gone out too. When I walked into the living room and turned them on, I got the yell of "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" and saw the rest of my friends sitting in a circle playing a game. Apparently they'd gotten bored since we were late and had started playing Monopoly until we got back.

My reaction was a normal "AAARGH! OH GOD HOW DID YOU GET INTO MY HOUSE?!", but yeah, it was pretty awesome.

Seriously though, who has a birthday party a week and a half early?! Sneaky gits! D:

 

[Fijiman]

I have a story, but I'm not sure if everyone will like it.

Spoiler

Okay, I don't really have any stories that I feel like remembering and typing out. I just thought it'd be funny to post that.

 

[busterkeatonrules]

I have a fun story about a friend of my dad's from China, so I guess it's actually my dad's story. Anyway, this friend didn't like to wear seat belts. Being oh so clever he bought a messenger bag with one strap which he wore while driving in order to make it look like he wore a seat belt, and when who can tell right? In China almost everyone's car has tinted windows, and you're both in motion so how can a cop tell the difference. Anyway one day he actually gets stopped, and when the cop comes to his window he asks nonchalantly, "What's the problem officer?" And the cop goes "You're seat belt is on the wrong side." True story.

SNIP

That reminds me of when I was taking driving lessons. As I live way out in the boonies, the program required that I complete at least one 45-minute session in the big city. You know, in case I ever had to leave those calm, uncomplicated country roads and face chaotic city traffic. Messenger bags like those you mention had just gotten popular among the city-folk, and were still largely unfamiliar to us simple country dwellers. After observing a number of people wearing said messenger bags, my instructor commented: "What the heck do pedestrians need seat belts for?"

 

[kpender]

Once upon a time, the end