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re: My 14 yo son's first test of maturity
Posted on 10/28/14 at 10:24 pm to Huey Lewis
Posted on 10/28/14 at 10:24 pm to Huey Lewis
WTF? 

Posted on 10/28/14 at 10:26 pm to mpar98
Was there a point to this thread besides pointing out that you werent able to correctly use a condom 14 years ago?
This post was edited on 10/28/14 at 10:36 pm
Posted on 10/28/14 at 10:28 pm to Huey Lewis
quote:
BOOM! He was on me. He was on me like flies on shite. I had no chance. I got my arm up between his teeth and my neck. WOMP! Went down in the mud, rolled over, rolled over, the dog is fighting and biting and scratching and kicking and I'm screaming and crying, I'm grabbing him around the head, I stand up and POW! Fall with my weight on him and CRACK! Hear his neck break. He's dead. He's not breathing, he's not yelping, he's not biting. I'm covered in blood. I stand up, wipe the blood off. I licked it. And my dad said: "Welcome to manhood!"
Same exact thing happened to me except it was a bengal tiger that I had to kill.
This post was edited on 10/28/14 at 10:30 pm
Posted on 10/28/14 at 10:29 pm to CtrlAltimerDelete
Ok now that's just bullshite
Posted on 10/28/14 at 10:33 pm to jimbeam
quote:
Ok now that's just bullshite
I Survived the Game!
Posted on 10/28/14 at 10:34 pm to Huey Lewis
You're going to thank me for making you do that one day, son! 

Posted on 10/28/14 at 10:35 pm to mpar98
So, your son is getting laid tonight?
Posted on 10/28/14 at 10:39 pm to Huey Lewis
quote:
Wow kids these days have it easy.
I remember my first test of maturity.
Well done, you magnificent bastard.
EDIT: Prince Henry Stout, what a majestic name
This post was edited on 10/28/14 at 10:49 pm
Posted on 10/28/14 at 10:44 pm to mpar98
Downstairs, my house has a major ant problem. Luckily I reside upstairs. Nevertheless, once every 5 minutes or so an ant comes trotting along my desk.
First I place a coin or another object in its path. This confuses the ant, causing it to run off in a different direction, but my finger is waiting. I block its path with my finger.
It runs in the opposite direction, but I anticipate this. Soon the ant is encircled by pens and other barriers, and if it attempts to climb them, swift punishment is issued. The ant remains in my arena.
Then I take my knife, and nimbly place the tip onto one of its legs, holding it in place, then I press down hard and chop the leg off. The ant does not run, it merely enters a craze moving all around wildly.
I allow it to suffer like this for a minute or so, chopping off another leg if it appears not to be in pain. Then comes a decision. Sometimes I will wait for another ant, and place it in the arena to see what it does.
Occasionally it will pick up its comrade, and run off, but this is an offense punishable by death. Other times, I will merely watch the ant until it gives up. It will stop moving all but one leg.
At this point I give in and slice the ant in two, putting it out of its misery. I save the corpses in a small pile, and once I have a considerable stack, I scatter them in my arena. This is where the real fun begins.
I venture outside to my back yard and find a red ant. This is my gladiator. I return to my room and place him in among the corpses. He wanders, confused.
I do not let him leave. I pound the desk near him with my fingers, scaring him. I toughen my gladiator up until another ant comes along. I place the intruder into the arena.
The red ant will go after the black ant, and they engage in mortal combat. If the red ant wins, another corpse decorates my arena. If the black ant vanquishes his foe, he wins the prize of life.
I carry him in my hands and bring him downstairs and place him among his comrades. If he put up a good fight, I give him a warriors welcome and feed his colony with bread. If he barely defeated the red ant, he receives no food, only the gift of life. This is how I spend my afternoons.
First I place a coin or another object in its path. This confuses the ant, causing it to run off in a different direction, but my finger is waiting. I block its path with my finger.
It runs in the opposite direction, but I anticipate this. Soon the ant is encircled by pens and other barriers, and if it attempts to climb them, swift punishment is issued. The ant remains in my arena.
Then I take my knife, and nimbly place the tip onto one of its legs, holding it in place, then I press down hard and chop the leg off. The ant does not run, it merely enters a craze moving all around wildly.
I allow it to suffer like this for a minute or so, chopping off another leg if it appears not to be in pain. Then comes a decision. Sometimes I will wait for another ant, and place it in the arena to see what it does.
Occasionally it will pick up its comrade, and run off, but this is an offense punishable by death. Other times, I will merely watch the ant until it gives up. It will stop moving all but one leg.
At this point I give in and slice the ant in two, putting it out of its misery. I save the corpses in a small pile, and once I have a considerable stack, I scatter them in my arena. This is where the real fun begins.
I venture outside to my back yard and find a red ant. This is my gladiator. I return to my room and place him in among the corpses. He wanders, confused.
I do not let him leave. I pound the desk near him with my fingers, scaring him. I toughen my gladiator up until another ant comes along. I place the intruder into the arena.
The red ant will go after the black ant, and they engage in mortal combat. If the red ant wins, another corpse decorates my arena. If the black ant vanquishes his foe, he wins the prize of life.
I carry him in my hands and bring him downstairs and place him among his comrades. If he put up a good fight, I give him a warriors welcome and feed his colony with bread. If he barely defeated the red ant, he receives no food, only the gift of life. This is how I spend my afternoons.
Posted on 10/28/14 at 10:53 pm to mpar98
Your son will be spending more and more time over there. More because the mother has become attached to him, and will be good with her daughter and your son having sex. Good luck with the future birth of a grandchild. 

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