The "I'm bored, tell me a story" thread.

[Psycho Nulltard]

I have no interest in any of the threads in my "unread topics" list, so I thought I'd start a new one.

In this thread, share an amazing true story.

----------------

When i lived in Las Vegas, there was a pub within walking distance of my apartment. Bilbo's was its name.

One night after a long shift at work, I walked to Bilbo's for a drink. I did my normal routine of sitting, drinking, and staring at the TV wishing for someone to talk with. On this fateful night in the year 2002, my wish was granted.

Be careful what you wish for.

In walks this long haired redneck type... 6' 4 tall, who knows how large.... Just intimidatingly large. Dude asks if i want to play a game of pool. I accept the challenge, and i win. This started a series of events that no force could stop.

With my victory, I had confirmed this guy's suspicion that i was, in fact, an angel. He would not leave me alone. He followed me around, asking that i perform various feats and marvelling at my angelic perfection. Eventually he asked me to give him a ride home, then went to the lou.

I called the bartended over with urgency, asking to settle my tab so i could leave before the redneck returned. He asked why. I informed him of the impending doom and he nodded sagely, saying only "no man, you stay here, I've got this."

By this point there was only one patron in the bar aside from redneck guy and myself. Redneck guy returned and the bartenter exclaimed "free drinks for all!" He poured 3 shots, and we all took them.

Cranberry juice. What the...

"Free shots!"

Cranberry juice. It turns out that only the redneck was getting free shots. Straight vodka. Mine and other patron's were cranberry juice.

10 rounds of free shots later, redneck guy switches to slow motion... Drool pooling below his open maw as it neared the bar's surface. With a start he shot up and ran outside to ralph.

The bartender hopped over the bar as if he were in an action movie. He locked the door and raced around drawing the shutters.

The rest of the night, barkeeper, other patron, and i enjoyed free drinks and great conversation. Occasionally redneck guy would run around the building, banging on the windows begging to be let in. We didn't let him in. He eventually wandered into the desert and, I suspect, passed out behind a rock.

The sun rose, and at 9am the bartender opened the door for a new day's business. Soon thereafter entered redneck, covered in dust. He abashedly used the pay phone to call a cab.

[DeshDildo]

A few years ago the family and I were on vacation in Destin, Florida.  One evening we decided to take a walk down one of the piers.  My son (2 at the time) was holding my wife's hand and leading the way.  They were followed by my mother-in-law and brother-in-law and I was bringing up the rear, pushing my daughter (1 at the time) in a stroller.

I'm walking and we see dolphins, so I'm checking that out, along with watching some of the fisherman's catches.  All of the Sudden, out of the corner of my eye, I see something coming at me.  I turned my head and in gut reaction closed my eyes.  I then felt a warm liquid splash my face.  I was stunned at first and started looking for a perpetrator.  I noticed a large Pelican taking flight.  Upon closer inspection, I then noticed the liquid my daughter and I had been covered in was white and, was indeed bird shit.

I could not believe the shear amount of shit this pelican had rained down on us from the sky.  It was like the scene in the Flintstones movie when a pterodactyl drops a waterfall of shit on a car.  Not only was it on my face but, some of it was on and it my mouth.

Much to my chagrin, others on the pier noticed the events when I screamed in anger.  All of the people on the whole damn pier erupted in laughter at my expense, especially my own family. 

Now that I was covered in pelican shit and super pissed, I decided it would be a good time for my daughter and I to return to our hotel for the night and clean up.

Ever since that day I have vowed to get the pelican and make it pay for it's crimes against my daughter and I.  To this day, when a bird of any size flies overhead I look up, just in case.  My wife, of course, thinks this is hilarious.

[johnnymad]

Some cultures believe getting pooped on by a bird is good luck. I think that's a bunch of crap.

[DeshDildo]

Some cultures believe getting pooped on by a bird is good luck. I think that's a bunch of crap.

It really is, literally.

[esteban]

TRÜ STORIE: FRIDAY NIGHT (eons ago).

I was at a very loud show* and didn't have anything to plug in my ears (i.e. Napkin fragment, etc.)

Now, I'd gone to many shows, and never felt need for ear protection, but their was just something about this show that was hurtin' my eardrum. I didn't want to leave, so I pulled a half-eaten croissant from my cargo-shorts pocket (I worked at Costco and got trays and trays of croissants because they are awesome).

Anyway, I was reluctant to sacrifice my only food for ear plugs, but I plugged my ears with croissant.

NEVER, EVER, DO THIS. EVER.

After the show, I couldn't get the croissant out. But I had to work a full day, so I quickly showered and NEVER SHOWER IF CROISSANT IS STUCK IN YOUR EARS.

The croissants absorbed water from shower and I SLOSHED THROUGH THE ENTIRE DAY AT WORK, ALMOST DEAF.

My friend screamed in my ear—FULL ON SCREAM—and it was but a muffled queef to my eardrums.

Saturday night. Everyone is laughing at my stupidity.

OH SHIT, I GOTTA GO TO THE DOCTOR. SHIT, tomorrow is Sunday.

MONDAY AFTERNOON, I have to fill out the standard form.

"What is the purpose of your visit today?" Asks the intake form.

RECEPTIONIST LAUGHS UPON READING MY ANSWER. ASKS IF I AM JOKING.

"What?" I joke back. "I can't hear you, but I have a craving for some coffee."

Doctor flushes my ears with coolest machine ever. After procedure, I request to see the fucking croissant shrapnel  floating in the little bucket.

It was one of the most amazingly gratifying moments in my life. I could finally hear, normally, again.

*i forget the bands. I'll update later.

[NecroPhile]

lol... good story.  i need some croissants for the ride home from daycare every day. :/  "i want mcdonalds! i wanna go to walmart! this is taking too long! i wanted to sit in the other seat! [brother] is touching me! ARRRRRHHHGHGHGHHGHGHGHAHHAHAHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH WAAAAAAAH WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

Silence is golden, but duct tape is silver. 

[NightWolve]

Lucky you didn't get an ear infection, esteban! I suffered one last year, the first in my life, and my eardrum ruptured. Sometimes there's still mild pain, and the drum is now weak so when swallowing food I hear extra sound from it. I don't know if the rip/hole fully closed up either because about a week after it happened, like an idiot, I forgot not to blow my nose and so I broke through the scab with the air pressure, felt the air come out of it, etc... Most hearing seems to have returned to normal, but I know it can't be 100% as before.

@nully, cool bartender. ;) How was Vegas anyway ? I heard that after about 3 days of it, you've had all about enough of what you can stomach of it.

[esteban]

Lucky you didn't get an ear infection, esteban! I suffered one last year, the first in my life, and my eardrum ruptured. Sometimes there's still mild pain, and the drum is now weak so when swallowing food I hear extra sound from it. I don't know if the rip/hole fully closed up either because about a week after it happened, like an idiot, I forgot not to blow my nose and so I broke through the scab with the air pressure, felt the air come out of it, etc... Most hearing seems to have returned to normal, but I know it can't be 100% as before.

@nully, cool bartender. ;) How was Vegas anyway ? I heard that after about 3 days of it, you've had all about enough of what you can stomach of it.

I hate anything messing up my hearing. I know folks would say this about vision, perhaps, but I hate the thought of not hearing Le music. 

[DeshDildo]

Silence is golden, but duct tape is silver. 

YES!  Perfect saying for anyone who has a wife and kids!  Lulzy mclulzersonski.

[ClodBusted]

Ever since that day I have vowed to get the pelican and make it pay for it's crimes against my daughter and I.  To this day, when a bird of any size flies overhead I look up, just in case.  My wife, of course, thinks this is hilarious.

Your story got me this Red Bull commercial back into my mind:
Red Bull Werbung Commercial Vogelkacke Bird Dung 1‏

[TR0N]

Story huh 
Men At Work - Down Under

[xcrement5x]

One time I saw this picture in chatbox someone posted and I was like dang, she's pretty hot.  Then I was told she was a tranny. 

I didn't know how to feel the rest of the day.

[Ninja16608]

I used to have a dog for a pet, True story

[MrFulci]

I used to have a dog for a pet, True story

Nulltard told me he'd straighten out my problem registering at his site. He never got back to me, a few days later. True story. Guess I'm like that redneck guy at the bar nearby Vegas. ::Single tear, one eye::

.

[SamIAm]

This is probably the best story I've got from nine years living in Japan.

--------------------------------

I moved from the deep countryside to the big city, set myself up in a cozy little apartment, and set out to look for work. Sadly, there wasn't much. But I had just passed the highest level Japanese proficiency test and had been dreaming of doing freelance translation work, so what better time to break into that than now?
 
As I searched for clients, I posted on a local internet forum with a modest advertisement and my resume. That soon got me a gig translating several articles into English for grad students at Kyushu University. Time passed with no more responses, though, and I thought that that was all that would come of it.

Many days later, I did get one more email from that ad, which was followed quickly by a direct phone call. A man introduced himself, gave me his name, and told me he wanted me to do live interpretation for him. The matter was private. He said would like to discuss it with me at a McDonald's next to a downtown subway station, to which I said sure. I was in front of the place on time the next day.

I waited. 10 minutes past the meeting time, I saw a man across the street wave to me, then signal to come to where he was. I crossed the street and shook his hand, and he just smiled and said "follow me".

It turns out he had asked me to come to that spot just so he could look me over first. He must have approved, because now he was taking me to where he really wanted to talk - an old cafe off in an alley. The inside was dark, with fine quality stained-wood furniture and hanging green glass cone lamps over every table. Cigarette smoke hung in the air. A curvy older woman in a flower-adorned silk slip sat behind the counter changing the music. She was playing 20th century opera on vinyl records. The place was mostly empty.

I took a good look at the guy. He was about 40, with a shaved head. Around his eyes were three scars that were almost certainly cut by rings in fistfights. He wore a fitted black suit jacket, the inside of which was lined with red, and the grey shirt he wore underneath had a dragon pattern on it. His card might as well have said "Yakuza". Instead, it said "Private Investigator".

He told me that the name on the card was his real name, and the one he gave me before was an alias. The real name was Shirouzu. He smoked, we drank coffee and made polite chit-chat, and finally, he exhaled deeply and said it was time to get down to it.

Mr. Shirouzu had recently broken up with his Russian girlfriend. That was all fine - he had no hard feelings toward her. Actually, he very deeply cared about her kid (who wasn't his). But he and his girlfriend had been friends with another couple, a married couple from Belarus, and it turns out that Mr. Shirouzu's Russian girlfriend had been having an an affair with the Belarusian man. As a friend, he wanted to warn the Belarusian woman about it. She didn't speak Japanese and he didn't speak Belarusian, but she did speak English. That's where I came in. He gave me the backstory, and I took the gig.

After a few email exchanges, we set up a Skype chat with the Belarusian woman (who was, at that time, in Belarus). I went over to Mr. Shirouzu's apartment for the occasion, which unfortunately really wasn't a very remarkable place. The only interesting thing was his long-haired, floppy-eared wiener-dog that he lavished attention on. We sat in front of the computer, and it wasn't long before the woman was on the screen.

The conversation was like a doctor speaking to a patient. I solemnly interpreted to the woman as Mr. Shirouzu told her he thought her husband had cheated on her and would likely do it again. He laid out his evidence piece by piece. There wasn't any one thing that was particularly incriminating, but it all added up to a fairly obvious situation.

However, in between chokes of tears, the woman said she still didn't believe it. That's when Mr. Shirouzu had to bring out the sledgehammer. Bear in mind, he's speaking Japanese, and I'm interpreting to this woman in English, in the first person.

Mr. Shirouzu: "She knows about your husband's tiny penis."

Woman: "...Um, what?"

Mr. Shirouzu: "Look, I know your husband has a really tiny penis. I saw it when we went into a public bath together. But my girlfriend knew about it, too. Hell, she described it to me in detail when we were drunk. There's only one way she could have known about that. They had to have slept together."

Woman: "..."

I can't tell you how profoundly embarrassed all three of us were at this point. The woman never denied it. Anyway, she continued to claim that she didn't believe her husband had cheated, and that it must be a misunderstanding or a lie. Mr. Shirouzu concluded the call by saying that whether or not she believed that the affair had happened, she should be careful. That was all he could say, he said.

The woman was crying and exhausted, so we decided to cut the call. Mr. Shirouzu finished smoking what must have been his 10th cigarrette in 30 minutes, then led me out. I wish there was some wacky ending to this story, but really, he just paid me and took me to the subway station.

It was my first and last interpretation job. I never expect to find one more interesting.

[NecroPhile]

Nice story, Sam. 

Sam entering the cafe for his interview: clicky.

[NightWolve]

Didn't see that one coming, Nulltard carrying his own thread with self Q/A conversing... Heh-heh.

[DeshDildo]

Didn't see that one coming, Nulltard carrying his own thread with self Q/A conversing... Heh-heh.

Hahaha... I had to double check the original quote tag.  Must be a boring day at the office today eh Null?

[roflmao]

I ain't got nuthin' on the stories told so far but one that comes to mind that's kind of embarrassing takes place a lifetime ago. 

I'm fresh out of high school and start a company with my parents remanufacturing toner cartridges and repairing laser printers.

On one of my early repairs I'm at this fairly large corporation (I don't recall the name of it now but they owned their own building that was 3-4 stories tall). The floor I was working on was a call center. There had to have been at least 50 cubicles set up and all of them chattering away. I had to replace the fuser assembly in an HP LaserJet II.  Easy. 4 screws.

I open it up and start unscrewing the fuser assembly and all of a sudden *ZAP*!!! Huge, bright, crackly sparks, I get the shock from hell and the power goes out for the entire floor. Complete darkness.

Then I realized I was trying to replace that part while the printer was still turned on. D'oh!

Thankfully everyone had a good laugh over it and they continued to be a good client.  When we got the power up and running again I saw the screwdriver I was using sticking straight out of the printer. It had been fused to the screw I was unscrewing.

[esteban]

This is probably the best story I've got from nine years living in Japan.

--------------------------------

I moved from the deep countryside to the big city, set myself up in a cozy little apartment, and set out to look for work. Sadly, there wasn't much. But I had just passed the highest level Japanese proficiency test and had been dreaming of doing freelance translation work, so what better time to break into that than now?
 
As I searched for clients, I posted on a local internet forum with a modest advertisement and my resume. That soon got me a gig translating several articles into English for grad students at Kyushu University. Time passed with no more responses, though, and I thought that that was all that would come of it.

Many days later, I did get one more email from that ad, which was followed quickly by a direct phone call. A man introduced himself, gave me his name, and told me he wanted me to do live interpretation for him. The matter was private. He said would like to discuss it with me at a McDonald's next to a downtown subway station, to which I said sure. I was in front of the place on time the next day.

I waited. 10 minutes past the meeting time, I saw a man across the street wave to me, then signal to come to where he was. I crossed the street and shook his hand, and he just smiled and said "follow me".

It turns out he had asked me to come to that spot just so he could look me over first. He must have approved, because now he was taking me to where he really wanted to talk - an old cafe off in an alley. The inside was dark, with fine quality stained-wood furniture and hanging green glass cone lamps over every table. Cigarette smoke hung in the air. A curvy older woman in a flower-adorned silk slip sat behind the counter changing the music. She was playing 20th century opera on vinyl records. The place was mostly empty.

I took a good look at the guy. He was about 40, with a shaved head. Around his eyes were three scars that were almost certainly cut by rings in fistfights. He wore a fitted black suit jacket, the inside of which was lined with red, and the grey shirt he wore underneath had a dragon pattern on it. His card might as well have said "Yakuza". Instead, it said "Private Investigator".

He told me that the name on the card was his real name, and the one he gave me before was an alias. The real name was Shirouzu. He smoked, we drank coffee and made polite chit-chat, and finally, he exhaled deeply and said it was time to get down to it.

Mr. Shirouzu had recently broken up with his Russian girlfriend. That was all fine - he had no hard feelings toward her. Actually, he very deeply cared about her kid (who wasn't his). But he and his girlfriend had been friends with another couple, a married couple from Belarus, and it turns out that Mr. Shirouzu's Russian girlfriend had been having an an affair with the Belarusian man. As a friend, he wanted to warn the Belarusian woman about it. She didn't speak Japanese and he didn't speak Belarusian, but she did speak English. That's where I came in. He gave me the backstory, and I took the gig.

After a few email exchanges, we set up a Skype chat with the Belarusian woman (who was, at that time, in Belarus). I went over to Mr. Shirouzu's apartment for the occasion, which unfortunately really wasn't a very remarkable place. The only interesting thing was his long-haired, floppy-eared wiener-dog that he lavished attention on. We sat in front of the computer, and it wasn't long before the woman was on the screen.

The conversation was like a doctor speaking to a patient. I solemnly interpreted to the woman as Mr. Shirouzu told her he thought her husband had cheated on her and would likely do it again. He laid out his evidence piece by piece. There wasn't any one thing that was particularly incriminating, but it all added up to a fairly obvious situation.

However, in between chokes of tears, the woman said she still didn't believe it. That's when Mr. Shirouzu had to bring out the sledgehammer. Bear in mind, he's speaking Japanese, and I'm interpreting to this woman in English, in the first person.

Mr. Shirouzu: "She knows about your husband's tiny penis."

Woman: "...Um, what?"

Mr. Shirouzu: "Look, I know your husband has a really tiny penis. I saw it when we went into a public bath together. But my girlfriend knew about it, too. Hell, she described it to me in detail when we were drunk. There's only one way she could have known about that. They had to have slept together."

Woman: "..."

I can't tell you how profoundly embarrassed all three of us were at this point. The woman never denied it. Anyway, she continued to claim that she didn't believe her husband had cheated, and that it must be a misunderstanding or a lie. Mr. Shirouzu concluded the call by saying that whether or not she believed that the affair had happened, she should be careful. That was all he could say, he said.

The woman was crying and exhausted, so we decided to cut the call. Mr. Shirouzu finished smoking what must have been his 10th cigarrette in 30 minutes, then led me out. I wish there was some wacky ending to this story, but really, he just paid me and took me to the subway station.

It was my first and last interpretation job. I never expect to find one more interesting.

HOLY SHITE! How did I miss this?

I blame fatigue from being overworked. I'm so glad I decided to browse the forums manually, otherwise I wouldn't have found this.

Awesome, awesome story. The fact that parts are anti-climatic makes it charming, actually. Real life. Appreciate the simple things. Not everything is going to end with a broken face, orgasm, or high-drama.

Most important thing you left out: did he have PCE hooked up to an old monitor in his bedroom?

[SamIAm]

Sadly, no.

He did, however, have an impressive collection of James Bond movies.

[esteban]

Sadly, no.

He did, however, have an impressive collection of James Bond movies.

Damn.

OK. 

[SamIAm]

Glad you liked the story, by the way. ;)

[DeshDildo]

Nulltard hails from Nantucket.
Every time he sees a sheep he wants to...

[NightWolve]

Nulltard hails from Nantucket.
Every time he sees a sheep he wants to...

Sure you're not thinking of DarkKobold ?



Spoiler: Psycho DarKKKobold stole the identity of another Kyle Thomson, who happened to be a model, but came up first in the google search results. He pretended for as long as possible he was that Kyle until he did a YouTube interview with Psycho JoshuaTurboTrollX-16 and made other public appearances at gamer nerd events with Saramaru, Nulltard himself, and the rest of the "rat pack."

[NecroPhile]

Ha!  That one fit right in. 

[NightWolve]

Sorry nulltard, we're mostly boring people. Hard to "unbore" somebody as a result. ;)

[xcrement5x]

I have a decent story from the wedding I went to last week but it'll take awhile to type up.  Will try my best.  In the meantime check out the first game I bought thread.