Wild Stories from your youth ......

Two friends and I were in the parking lot at Great Woods before a Van Halen concert. We were sitting on the back trunk of my parents' car smoking a joint when a guy comes up to my friend sitting next to me and asks if he has any to sell. When he says yes, the guy pulls a badge out of his shirt. Undercover Mansfield PD. Fuck. Friend has a half ounce in his pocket. Cop: "is there anything else in the car that I should know about?" Me: "Yeah, there's a bag of pot in the glove compartment, roaches in the ashtray and a case of Labatt Blue in the trunk." We were all under 21, hence disclosing the beer. The cop and his partner are talking to each other about exactly what they are going to do. I assume my friend with the bag is getting arrested and that as the driver of the car, I'm getting arrested as well. I'm asking my third friend, who probably would not be getting arrested if he can drive a stick shift (parents' car was a manual") and that he should follow us to the police station and bail us out and we'd probably miss the opening acts but still get to see Van Halen. Then like a gift from God, a scalper walks up to the 2 undercovers and offers to scalp them tickets and they completely turn their attention to him. They ended up making my friend dump the weed out on the ground, mash it around with his foot and poured two of the beers on it. Then they let us go and actually left us with a 12 pack, didn't even take all of the beer. One of the luckiest close calls of my youth. Van Halen was great that night too...

Back in the mid 2000s I “hacked” (aka correctly guessed the password) an account in a niche community and posted a thing or two on that account. People STILL make speculations about that time period and who did what. I even found a YouTube video posted a month ago on that subject. 👀 Part of me is tempted to come forward, but I’m too chickenshit. If I ever did get outed though, the first thing I’d do with that attention is create an onlyfans and promote the heck out of myself and see if I can rack up a bunch of followers quickly that way.

In an earlier day, when the web was a little less strictly controlled, I managed to make a local news station's presidential candidate poll show a *huge* preference for the Libertarian candidate at the time. Somewhere in the neighborhood of 1500 votes for Harry Browne versus less than a hundred for the Dem and GOP candidates. They even broadcast the results on their live broadcast. The other is the story I've told here about the only time I've had to draw my pistol with the intent to use it against an actual person.

Lol. I'm glad my early life was boring!!😂

Ok, this is probably not the kind of "wild" story that skibum requested, but it is a fucking wild coincidence. **WARNING** There is some disgusting content to follow, so if you're easily grossed out or offended you might want to scroll down to the next story, and possibly put me on ignore. But I swear on my eyes this is a true story. It was the spring of 1998, immediately following a divorce from my first wife. I was glad to be rid of her but exhausted from the process. My buddy decided to take me on a long weekend trip to Ocean City Maryland to celebrate. Before we even got inside the hotel, we met a couple of hot sluts in the parking lot, struck up a conversation, and made plans to meet them for drinks. Later on at the hotel bar I had an eye for, let's call her Slut #1, and he immediately hit it off with Slut #2. End result, it turns out #1 and I did not get along, not at all, and she got pissed off when #2 took my buddy back to the girls' room, leaving #1 alone with me at the bar. Being the gentleman that I am, I offered to put aside our disdain for each other, and let her spend the night in my room which, for lack of a better option, she reluctantly accepted. We did manage to have a few laughs and slept in separate beds. In the morning, I made us a couple of bloody marys to cure our hangovers and sent her on her way. My buddy showed up shortly afterwards and gave me the details. Slut 2 was not only the best fuck he ever had, but she gave him his first-ever rim job. Now I was glad to hear that, because having had several myself, I'm a fan of it, especially from a total smoke show like Slut 2. But then he shared something else. He'd been suffering with hemorrhoids since before we left on this trip, and the long drive down there didn't help his condition. He was hesitant to meet up with this girl again because, pleasurable as it was, he was apprehensive about the hemorrhoid thing. I asked him how long she was licking his butt and he said about 10 minutes or so. Bam... case closed. Obviously IF there was a problem, she'd have quit long before that, right? He agreed. So the second night, the four of us went out, my buddy and #2 were like a couple in love, and #1 and I both hooked up with others. She went off with some guy, I took a girl back to my room and had a pretty good time. My buddy went back to the same place to get his hemorrhoid-ridden ass licked again. The next and final night, #1 and I went our separate ways early on, and my buddy and #2 never even went out. They just stayed in the room. So it turns out we were all leaving the next morning. These girls were from southern NJ and we were from northern NJ, so we ended up on the ferry together from Delaware to Cape May. Other than a few sarcastic digs at each other, #1 and I were basically civil. My buddy and #2 looked like they were on their honeymoon. It was pathetic. Well obviously, I never spoke to #1 again, but he met up with #2 several more times, even though it was a long drive. She did the ass thing every time. He said he enjoyed it even more after the hemorrhoids had healed. After a few meet-ups, they lost touch with each other. You might think this story's over, but not quite yet. Fast-forward about 5 years... We have a friend who we like a lot but don't see him that often, maybe a couple times a year. He was coming off a messy divorce, and instead of taking some time to breathe he jumped right into another engagement with some other girl he had just met. He shows up to my buddy's house for the annual Christmas Eve party with his new fiancé. By now you can guess where this is going, right? Yes ass-licking Slut #2, who we had almost forgotten about, was now our friend's bride-to-be. She had no idea whose house she was visiting. We had no idea who our friend's new fiancé was. When they walked in the door I was there to greet them. I shook hands and hugged my friend. Looking over his shoulder I saw her behind him. I recognized her immediately, but I don't think she recognized me. I wished her Merry Christmas and went to find my buddy. He was out in the backyard, smoking a joint and having a drink by the fire pit. I got a drink for myself and a fresh one for him before letting him know who just walked in. By the end of the night, the three of us all knew who was who, but none of us let on that we knew each other. Our friend, her fiancé, was in the dark. To her, it had been just a weekend tryst with a couple follow-ups, which was in the past and need not be mentioned. To us, it was a hysterical story that we would love to expose, but we just couldn’t tell our friend that his fiancé, who he kisses every day, had once sucked on our buddy’s asshole. He married her and several years later divorced, but to this day we haven’t told him about it. Pretty sure there’s no need for that, funny as it would be.

Have less than 100 police encounters?!? Who the hell has anywhere near 100?!?? Not really "youth", but in my mid-20s, I was driving home in the wee hours of the morning, realized I was too smashed, and pulled over to sleep it off...a short while later there was a knock on my window. I woke up and saw three cops standing there. I opened the door rather than grab the keys to turn on the car to put down the window (that'd be an immediate DUI), talked to them a minute, and then suddenly.... *PUKE*... all over one of them. I thought OH FUCK, and then looked up and saw the cops behind him laughing. They asked for my ID, came back a few mins later, and I thought I was toast. Dude handed my ID back to me, said, "sleep it off, asshole", and went back to the police car. A min later they were gone.

Man I got to do some crazier shit

I was as wild and crazy as a teenager could be and lucky that I was never caught, prosecuted or killed for some of the things i did back then. One thing I recall is when I was 16 I bought a half gross of M80s. Two of my friends and myself were driving around one night and we were throwing M80s out the window and blowing things up. I was in the back seat so I could throw bombs out of either side. We were in a nearby town and had just driven through the business district and under a railroad trestle when I threw an m80 out the window. At the exact moment the m80 exploded a cop crosssed the intersection behind us. He made a u turn lit his lights and siren and came after us. My bud that was driving shouted for me to throw the m80s out the window and drove a couple blocks while i was throwing them out a handful at a time. When they were all gone he pulled over and the cop came up on the driver's side screaming 'we'll see what's funny now'. He told my buddies to get out and held them at gun point. He was so nervous that he either forgot about or didn't see me in the back so after a minute I stepped out from the passenger side and when he saw me he drawed down on me and had me step into the street. He continued screaming and kept his gun on us until his backup arrived then they frisked us while still under gunpoint. They handcuffed us and searched the car then took us to the station. Turns out he thought we shot at him. They questioned us for hours, and our story was that a pedestrian under the dark bridge threw the bomb and not finding a gun on us or in the car they eventually let us go. Even now I wonder how they didn't find a trail of m80s strewn for 2 blocks along the street and tree lawns.

At 15 I ripped a cops badge off and ran off with it. At 16 I tried taking a school cops gun but became a victim of police brutality and they pepper sprayed me.

Really? Imagine that 😳

^^cool story goofy

Lol victim of police brutality? People can literally get shot for trying to grab someones gun. You got off very easy, that isnt police brutality

"I tried taking a school cops gun but became a victim" Read that to yourself again, buddy.

Growing up in Miami in the Wild West days of the 70’s and 80’s, I had few police encounters, but way too many close calls and wild situations that seem unimaginable today. I truly believe that going away for college and graduate school, and getting out of Miami from 1982 to 1989 probably saved my life.

Well, since the statute of limitations has passed for any ramifications, I'll bite. So as some of you know, I was once arrested for attempted murder (I was out 3 days later on a 150K personal bond and a GPS tether around my ankle until my sentencing). No, I did NOT try to kill someone, it was a wromg place / wrong time / with the wrong person situation. I ended up pleading guilty to being an accesory after the fact of a felony, because I lied for my [piece of shit ex] boyfriend at the time, who actially committed the crime... was put on a special type of probation where if I completed it, no conviction goes on my record. 3 yrs probation. I was considered "low risk," so all I had to do was call in once a month and stay out of trouble (and pay fines and do 200 hrs community service). I smoked weed the entire time and completed my probation. The boyfriend went to prison for a minimum of 2 years. Here's the kicker: since we were co-defendants, we both were not allowed to have any contact whatsoever. It would've been a probation violation for me, they would've revoked my probation and given me the felony. Being a stupid 19 year old who thought she was in love, I HAD to visit my man in prison! There was no way I was going to go 2+ years without seeing him. So, lucky for me, I happen to have a twin. I filled out the visitor application in her name, and it was approved. I visited him several times, each time going as my sister, using her ID. I'd pay her a few bucks, she'd let me use her ID, and I'd make the longggg drive to see him, pretending to be her the whole time. Never got caught. In retrospect, it was very stupid and he was and is a worthless oxygen thief. I'm no "snitch," but if I could go back in time, I'd snitch on him in a heartbeat instead of nearly having my life ruined over a failure of a man who swore he had a plan.

^sorry for all the spelling errors and typos, I'm in a rush. Oh, and if anyone was wondering, the ex has been to prison (yes prison, not just jail) THREE TIMES NOW, and he only just turned 30 this year. I haven't seen him in about 5 years or so, and I don't plan to ever again.

@ 15 yo I took a fifth of vodka and whiskey from my dads liquor cabinet, called three buddy’s up and we got together and drank all of it plus a 30 pack of stroh’s in a public park. Not long afterwards a police cruiser with two cops in it shows up lights and sirens blaring. My buddy who never gets caught doing anything jumps up, runs across a baseball field jumps a fence and is gone in to the woods. I on the other hand being much less nimble and over 150 lbs heavier than him bounce off the same fence and land on the hood of the cop car that followed my drunken ass while trying to run away. They completely kick my ass while berating me for trying to run away. The coupdegras was a mag light to my balls while my legs were spread as they were “searching” me. I hate to admit it but after that ball crushing hit I gave up my friends name, they got on the load speaker and told him to come out of the woods. They did the perfect good cop bad cop routine on us and eventually let us go. The next day after the booze had worn off I was in bad shape. The beating left an impression on me and my psyche that I’d never forget. Soo.. fast forward a year later & I’m working in a national ice cream chain store by myself on a Saturday morning. In walks the same “bad” cop, the mag light swinging ball crushing motherfucker that beat me up for having run away from him. He has no idea who I am & asks for a vanilla milk shake. I add the ice cream to the cup but tell him there’s no milk and have to find a new carton from the back. Which I do, after I jacked off in the cup. Gave it to him and said no charge.

^^ Too bad he didn't order a chocolate shake.

I lost my virginity when I was 16 to a slightly older woman (she had a driver’s license) who pick me up hitchhiking at the Jersey shore. Sounds like something out of a Penthouse Forum letter, but it happened.

^ it's a little old and black and white but think I saw you on PornHub

In college, my friends and I worked at a restaurant. Mostly everyone there, waitresses and kitchen staff, were around the same age and we became casual friends that went out as a group sometimes. One girl we got to know pretty well had a boyfriend, let's call him Jack, who we'd briefly met a couple times when he stopped by the restaurant. A little older than the rest of us, built like a brick shithouse, and a constant facial expression that said "Don't fuck with me" even when he was smiling. Heard from a few other people who had hung out with him before that he was a nice guy, but could be a loose cannon. So a bunch of us made plans to meet up at a Bennigan's restaurant one night. As it turns out, both me and this guy arrived a little early and saw each other walking in. We sat down at the bar to wait for the others. Just as the drinks showed up, he grabs me by the shirt/shoulder and pulls me in close. He says, "Did you see that fucking guy over there?" pointing across the bar. "He's fucking looking at me." I'm like dude, it's nothing, but he says again, "That guy's looking at me" as he starts heading around the bar. I don't know why, but I followed him. Even though I barely knew him, I thought perhaps I could settle him down. I couldn't. Before the poor guy knew what was happening, Jack grabs him by the collar and says, "Hey asshole what the FUCK are you looking at?" I swear the guy must have pissed his pants. He admitted that he had looked our way because he thought he knew one of us, but he was mistaken. So Jack lets him go, berated him some more calling him a dickless faggot or some such thing, and then we walked back around the bar. A few minutes later, the bartender shows up with a fresh drink for Jack. Apparently the dickless faggot sent it over as a peace gesture or whatever. Jack immediately starts back around the bar. I stayed put this time, but I could hear what he was saying. He goes, "What the fuck is wrong with you jerkoff?" Dude is like, "I just wanted to apologize for the misunderstanding." So Jack is like, "Well are you gonna buy a drink for my friend over there (meaning me) or are you gonna insult him?" And I'm thinking, "Oh fuck me, why is this maniac making me a part of this?" Anyway the guy ends up buying a drink for me as well. I caught his attention and raised the glass like a thank you, but made sure to do it when Jack wasn't watching. Ten awkward minutes later, I was so happy to see some other members of our group show up, including Jack's girlfriend, and we got a table and sat down. I found out later that Jack was a salesman at a Cadillac dealership. Not only that, but he had won "salesman of the year" two years in a row. I guess it must have been his charming people skills.

Back in the 70's I attended a house party in Seal Beach CA. The hosts both worked for the US post office in Seal Beach. There were about 20 of us that were a part of the crowd I used to hang with. Lots of drinking and some pot smoking. About 2AM somebody though it would be a good idea if we walked the block down to the ocean and went skinny dipping. So there we were including one pregnant girl and a Great Dane frolicking in the surf when 2 of Seal Beach's finest showed up, shined a huge light on us and order us out of the water. They called for reinforcements and 2 more cops showed up. Fortunately these 2 knew the hosts of the party and convinced the first 2 cops to just let us go as the Seal Beach jail was not big enough for all of us. They would have had to call in the county to transport us to the county jail. So we all went back to the house and continued the party.

When I was in high school my buddy sold his Ford Maverick to a used car lot in Irvington NJ. My buddy didn’t think to get the license plates off his old car. So, the sleazy guy who owned the lot decided to not give them back. My buddy was a decent kid, and he was no match for a sleazy used car dealer. So, I had my buddy drive to the lot when it was closed on a Sunday afternoon. I saw his car and I climbed the fence and started unscrewing the plates. I got one off and then I heard the sound of two very angry junk yard type dogs coming towards me. I got the second plate off and ran as fast as possible with those dogs right behind me. I got my ass up the fence and as I got one leg over - I felt the barbed wire cut through my jeans and open a gash on my thigh. In hindsight, I should have known they had dogs to keep the cars from being stolen. I didn’t think it through logically. I was fortunate to get away without being caught by the dogs - or getting arrested - or shot by the lot owner.

^^ Thus the meaning of the phrase "junkyard dog". Lol

My senior year in high school, my friend Mike and I were hanging out at someone’s house drinking and getting high when we ran out of alcohol. Mike and I volunteered to make a liquor store run. I was pretty fucked up, but anyway I’m driving. Got to the end of the street, slowed down but didn’t quite stop at the stop sign, and made a left turn. Just as I’m coming out of the turn and about to hit the gas, out of nowhere, a guy is in front of the car. I hit him. I heard this “thump” sound as he went tumbling over the hood and ended up in the middle of the street. Holy shit, you know that feeling you can’t exactly describe when something SO FUCKED UP happens you think your whole life might be ruined in an instant? That was me. So I stop, put the flashers on, get out of the car and go over to the guy. He’s like, “You motherfucker you broke my fuckin laig.” (I wrote “laig” because that’s how he said “leg”.) Right away I knew the guy was full of shit. His “broken laig” performance reminded me of the old Fred Sanford bit where he’s always having a heart attack. My suspicion was confirmed when I offered to drive him to the hospital. He suddenly toned down the broken leg thing and instead suggested that if we bought him a bottle of Hennessy he might feel better. Ok, now I know the guy’s playing me, but under the circumstances, a bottle of brandy seemed like a small price to make this potentially volatile situation go away. I helped him up and into the back seat of the car, while he’s still moaning. “Mah laig, oh mah laig.” By the time we got to the liquor store, like five blocks away, the pain seemed to have subsided because now he was more concerned with what bottle I should buy. He wanted to make sure it was Hennessy, not some bottom shelf stuff, and he wanted the big half gallon bottle. I came out, handed him the bag, and he confirmed it was what he wanted. I said I’ll drive him home, or wherever else he wants to go. I was hoping to drop him off at least some distance away because the “accident” had happened only a half block from where we were partying. Well, now he decides that he’s hungry and wants us to buy him some food. I look over at Mike in the passenger seat, rolling my eyes, and he’s looking down, kind of shaking his head. “No problem,” I said to the guy. “How about Chinese?” He agreed, and there was a Chinese takeout place a block away. I pulled over and asked him what he wanted, but he was already halfway out of the car. Apparently, he was going in with me to check the menu. The car was in a no parking zone, so I told Mike to go find parking. Then, under my breath, I quietly said, “Meet me at Carvel.” Mike was like “What?” I repeated, “Meet...me...at...Carvel,” still not sure if he heard me. Next to the Chinese place there was a parking lot that went all the way through to the next block, where there was a Carvel ice cream store. Mike slid over to the driver’s seat and drove away as me and the guy were walking up to the Chinese place. He seemed fine until he remembered his “broken laig” and started hobbling again. So I was playing along, apologizing profusely, and held the door open for him. As he limped through the door, I grabbed hold of the door handle for stability and kicked that lying sack of shit as hard as I could. Planted my foot right in the small of his back and sent him tumbling into the restaurant. I could hear a couple of startled women shrieking as I slammed the door shut and took off running through the parking lot. I was never a very fast runner. Average, I guess, for a teenager. But I should be able to outrun a guy with a “broken laig” right? Well I had a pretty good head start on him, but this fucker came out of the restaurant and was bearing down on me like Jesse Owens. All I could think about was I hoped my friend understood what I said about Carvel because this guy was closing in on me fast. He was maybe 30 feet behind me when my buddy comes screeching to a stop in front of the ice cream store, leans over to open the passenger door, and I dove headfirst into the car. The door slammed shut when he floored it and peeled out, leaving the would-be con man shaking his fist and yelling, “You motherfuckers!” We were still only a few blocks from where the initial incident had occurred, so we drove in a different direction and circled around the long way to make sure we didn’t run into this prick again by accident. Plus we now had to find a different liquor store so we could pick up the booze we originally went out for. Mike said he knew a place not too far away. But then I happened to look into the back seat and saw the brown paper bag lying there. “Hey Mike,” I said. “Don’t bother.”

I can't believe this thread died so quickly. I fuckin love reading shit like this, and I've got a bunch of 'em. They come back to my memory every so often. Way back, when I was in high school, my buddies and I were on the rifle team. Yeah, for you millennials or whatever, public high schools used to have rifle teams, where we shot real guns with real bullets, in competition with other towns. Our coach's main job was the auto shop teacher. His second job was some kind of half-ass administrator, like assistant to the Vice Principal or some such thing, I don't remember what exactly. And finally he was the rifle team coach. Anyway, none of us took classes in auto repair, but we used to hang out in his office at the auto shop during our off periods or when we were cutting class. So in his capacity as a junior administrator, he had a "master key" that opened almost every locked door in the school. Maybe the Principal's office and nurse's room had a different lock system, but it was good for just about everything else. The key was one of those "do not duplicate" Medeco keys, but our friend's dad owned a lock company and could copy it. Not the dad. He had some kind of oath or something, but our friend knew how to use the machine and had access to the key blanks. So one day we swiped the key, an hour later we replaced it, and then we had a duplicate for ourselves. After that we could go anywhere we wanted. The auditorium was one of the places that was locked and "off limits" unless there was an assembly or something. That was because my friends and I had fucked that place up so bad they had locks installed on all the entrances, including the service entrance behind the stage. For example, one time during our lunch period, we all pissed off the balcony down onto the seats below. The piss all ran down to the front because of the slope of the floor. A couple girls were cutting through the auditorium to save time getting to class, and one of them slipped and fell. She broke her wrist, not to mention she fell in a puddle of piss. Anyway with the master key we had access to the auditorium again, and used to hang out in there smoking cigarettes and weed. So one day this guy brought some kind of fireworks. Remember "roman candles" that shoot out like a dozen fireballs one after another? They were like that but they shot out M-80's. We set up two of them on the stage, aimed out over the seats. We used cigarettes to delay the fuses, lit them, and calmly exited the auditorium to a stairway down the hall. We were on pins and needles waiting. A few minutes seemed like hours, but finally the show started. It was "almost" perfect. One started before the other... BOOM... BOOM... BOOM... then the other one kicked in and it was double shots like BOOM-BOOM... BOOM-BOOM... Holy crap, this was the early 80's and people thought the USSR was bombing us for real. They sounded the fire alarm and evacuated the school. Then fire trucks from I think three different towns showed up, storming the school with all their equipment, coats, air tanks and masks, all that shit. They even had dogs to sniff out bombs. There was no fire, but man people were fucking pissed off after that. They started putting chains on the entrance doors with padlocks (different than the key we had) but they were so stupid, they didn't change the lock on the service entrance, so after a few weeks when the excitement had died down, we started hanging out in there again. We never did anything quite so dramatic again, but we used to do shit to fuck with them, like once we stole one of those giant bags of popcorn from the movie theater, dumped it on the stage, and shined a spot light on it from up in the balcony. Just left it that way.

Most of my outrageous escapades have been chronicled in posts (mostly in the TUSCL discussions page). Strangely enough, most of these wild escapades did not strike me as particularly wild or extraordinary at the time. But now that I am an old man, I have difficultly believing I ever did those things (or that such things ever happen to me)! These wild memories feel like they must surely have happened to somebody else, but not to me!