The liar's bench

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The liar's bench

Post by Truckinbutch » Sun Jun 09, 2013 8:40 pm

I'd like to establish a liar's bench here . Stuff in a chew , pull out your dollar Barlow pocket knife and start whittlin on the bench while you are contemplatin how to top the last whittler and spitter that had the floor .
I'll start .
Knowe a man that knowed , he swore , a man that chewed so much Mail Pouch that he wore a hole right through the side of his cheek . (Patoo . Ya gotta remember to spit after a story like that ; lends credence to your all-knowing wisdom .
NEXT ?
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Re: The liar's bench

Post by S-Cackalacky » Mon Jun 10, 2013 10:49 am

Round here the liar's bench is a reality and a cultural phenomenon. Just so everyone knows what TB means by "liar's bench" - it's usually an actual bench that sits outside the door of a country store. Or, in some cases it may be a booth or a corner table in a restaurant or lunch counter. Most often around where I live you will see a few old retired farmers sitting around telling stories early in the day. You may go by the same store in the early evening and see a younger group there on the bench. The Liar's bench is where that 8 point buck you shot last season grows a few more points, or where that 12 inch trout got to be 18 inches. That's the Liar's Bench.

When I was a youngun down in S. Cack, the ole boys would sit around outside the store playing checkers and not doing much talking. Somewhere along the line the checkerboard got lost and wit and wisdom took over. If you could collect all that wit and wisdom, the problems of the world would probably be solved.

I guess here on HD the Liar's Bench is a kind of virtual bench.

Just sayin',
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Re: The liar's bench

Post by S-Cackalacky » Mon Jun 10, 2013 11:09 am

Speaking of chewing tobacco - my great grandpa Coleman chewed something called "Black Cat". It was a dark square cake wrapped in something like cellophane. Me and my brother would sit with him out on his front porch while he whittled on a piece of wood and told stories of when he was a youngun. Sometimes he would take out his Black Cat and cut off a plug and pop it between his cheek and gum. Funny thing is - we never saw him spit. Once, we asked him about this and his reply was, "I payed good money fer it and I ain't spittin' it out.". When he sucked all the flavor from it, he would swallow the plug. He died at 94 - probably free of worms.

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Re: The liar's bench

Post by Truckinbutch » Mon Jun 10, 2013 7:41 pm

S-Cackalacky wrote:Speaking of chewing tobacco - my great grandpa Coleman chewed something called "Black Cat". It was a dark square cake wrapped in something like cellophane. Me and my brother would sit with him out on his front porch while he whittled on a piece of wood and told stories of when he was a youngun. Sometimes he would take out his Black Cat and cut off a plug and pop it between his cheek and gum. Funny thing is - we never saw him spit. Once, we asked him about this and his reply was, "I payed good money fer it and I ain't spittin' it out.". When he sucked all the flavor from it, he would swallow the plug. He died at 94 - probably free of worms.

Just sayin',
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I rekin :clap: Knew a few of them , too . One give me a cut of Day's Work plug and tole me I couldn't waste it .If I was going to chew I had to swaller . I don't remember how long it took me to crawl home on my all-fours , pukin about every 4 feet .
I do remember that his shithouse was the first we upset the next Halloween . I just wish the old sumbitch had been in it when it went over .
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Re: The liar's bench

Post by S-Cackalacky » Tue Jun 11, 2013 7:40 am

I once told my daddy that I was gonna start smoking as soon as I was old enough. His response was, "why wait?", at which point he reached in his shirt pocket and pulled out one of his cigarillos - like the ones Clint Eastwood smoked. He shoved it in my mouth and flicked the wheel on his zippo and told me to take a big drag. It was like sucking in the smoke from a bonfire. When I got over the gagging and coughing, he told me to just take short, slow puffs and inhale it down into my lungs. After four or five times, he must have seen that I was turning green and reached over and took the cigarillo and put it in his own mouth. When I started dry heaving and wretching in agony, he laughed his ass off. I don't remember ever being that sick again. From that day on when he would pull one of those cigarillos out of his pocket, he would motion it toward me with a little grin on his face.

I never got any retribution. Actually it was probably one of the best things he ever did for me.

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Re: The liar's bench

Post by Jimbo » Tue Jun 11, 2013 8:22 am

I was a youngun, not even into double digits yet. My brother is 5 years older and was not always a model influence. One day he stole a cigarette from my dad and we crawled into the crawlspace under the living room and smoked that cigarette. Well, young kids gettin in trouble usually arent the brightest, and wood floors in 100 year old houses dont seal too well. When we came up from the basement dad said so you want to smoke huh? He sat us down and pulled his pack out and made us smoke one after another until we were so sick we couldnt stand it any longer. It was many years before I touched another.
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Re: The liar's bench

Post by Coyote » Tue Jun 11, 2013 9:31 am

True story.

When I was about 11 and my older brother was 14 we discovered the
local hardware store would no longer sell us pounds of black powder,
might have been a word from the folks to the owners - never have asked.

Anyhow older brother goes to the public library and searches until he finds
a recipe for DIY black powder.

Now we are making a pound or 2 a week and blowing the shit out of 1/2 the
ranch and range. Blasting stumps and creek banks having, well, a blast! Stripping
toilet paper rolls like we were dying of the runs, even going so far as to rob the
rolls from the local service station, city parks, and schools.

Back to that creek bank thing, Underwater demo had recently become of major
concern to us and we had to have some underwater fuse. Not being able to buy
any in a desert area with little water - we proceeded to design our own.

Kite string coated in black powder and paraffin wax showed promise during our
early testing, so being complete under achiever's we decided to do a one shot run of 25 feet.

A 2 pound tub of home made black powder setting on our bedroom floor, open the basement window,
light the fuse and WHOOSH! brother drops the fuse into the tub of powder and the whole thing goes
up in a huge flash of smoke!

Now the bedroom door is louvered, and mom is setting up in the kitchen at the top of the stairs
having coffee with the neighbor lady - when this cloud of smoke works its way up the stairs and into the
kitchen. The parakeet in the bedroom is now laying on the floor of his cage doing the funky chicken dance,
bother and I are trying to herd the smoke out a small window, mom and the neighbor lady know the house
is on fire, plastic tub full of home brew black powder, melted, melted through the carpet burned a hole about
16" round, good thing the floor was cement.

Needless to say the bomb making days ended on the spot. . . as well as our ability to set down for a week or so.

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Re: The liar's bench

Post by heartcut » Tue Jun 11, 2013 9:46 am

We made a better scarecrow and the crows brought back the corn they took tast year.
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Re: The liar's bench

Post by S-Cackalacky » Tue Jun 11, 2013 10:03 am

heartcut wrote:We made a better scarecrow and the crows brought back the corn they took tast year.
DAMN, that's awesome! Did they lay it at your feet and back away with a respectful bow?
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Re: The liar's bench

Post by Jimbo » Tue Jun 11, 2013 10:19 am

With just the right size rock taped to it. An M-80 will sink to the middle of a perch hole.
In theory there's no difference between theory and practice. But in practice there is.
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Re: The liar's bench

Post by S-Cackalacky » Tue Jun 11, 2013 10:22 am

Coyote wrote:True story.

When I was about 11 and my older brother was 14 we discovered the
local hardware store would no longer sell us pounds of black powder,
might have been a word from the folks to the owners - never have asked.

Anyhow older brother goes to the public library and searches until he finds
a recipe for DIY black powder.

Now we are making a pound or 2 a week and blowing the shit out of 1/2 the
ranch and range. Blasting stumps and creek banks having, well, a blast! Stripping
toilet paper rolls like we were dying of the runs, even going so far as to rob the
rolls from the local service station, city parks, and schools.

Back to that creek bank thing, Underwater demo had recently become of major
concern to us and we had to have some underwater fuse. Not being able to buy
any in a desert area with little water - we proceeded to design our own.

Kite string coated in black powder and paraffin wax showed promise during our
early testing, so being complete under achiever's we decided to do a one shot run of 25 feet.

A 2 pound tub of home made black powder setting on our bedroom floor, open the basement window,
light the fuse and WHOOSH! brother drops the fuse into the tub of powder and the whole thing goes
up in a huge flash of smoke!

Now the bedroom door is louvered, and mom is setting up in the kitchen at the top of the stairs
having coffee with the neighbor lady - when this cloud of smoke works its way up the stairs and into the
kitchen. The parakeet in the bedroom is now laying on the floor of his cage doing the funky chicken dance,
bother and I are trying to herd the smoke out a small window, mom and the neighbor lady know the house
is on fire, plastic tub full of home brew black powder, melted, melted through the carpet burned a hole about
16" round, good thing the floor was cement.

Needless to say the bomb making days ended on the spot. . . as well as our ability to set down for a week or so.

Coyote
Do you and your brother sit around now and wonder with amazement why you're still alive? I know that me and my brother, when he was still alive, did. I remember once we were dropping cherry bombs down a piece of galvanized pipe, followed by a rock. The ultimate goal was to blow holes in a sheet of plywood - worked real good.

Just sayin',
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Re: The liar's bench

Post by Jimbo » Tue Jun 11, 2013 10:25 am

Haha. My brother and I do. We made gunpowder too. Sulfer saltpeter and charcoal and blow all sorts of stuff up. Mostly see how big s hole we could blow. Or send a sapling into the air
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Re: The liar's bench

Post by Coyote » Tue Jun 11, 2013 10:32 am

Mom and Dad raised 5 sons, very athletic sons, very inquisitive sons, very,very inquisitive.

Mam always said we could do anything we wanted - just had to put our minds to it.

I am damn sure that a lot of the things we did nearly caused heart failure for them both
a hundred times. The fact that they are still with us at 80+ years old is amazing to me.

Kid bother used to hunt birds in the trees and barns, using a 12 gauge shot shell with a marble
taped to the primer. Toss it on to a hard surface - from not very far away and BANG !
Don't know if he every killed a bird and surprised he didn't kill himself.

Ever water ski the irrigation canals by driving a pick up down the county road, with a 150 foot rope
to the skier? Funny as hell when another car comes along. . .

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Re: The liar's bench

Post by heartcut » Tue Jun 11, 2013 12:30 pm

This happened in the late 70's. A refinery plant startup involves sitting around telling stories and then going like hell till the emergency is fixed, then more sitting. Like the Liar's Bench with occasional, intense work thrown in. A guy I did a startup with was asking me about demolition material during down time. Told him enough to create a hazard, I guess. He didn't ask about technique, so I figured he was just curious. Saw him about a year later and he told this tale:
I was sitting around on unemployment and looking for a chore. Always wanted a pond and I have 40 acres and a creek, so I went to the feed store and bought a shitload of fertilizer, 5 gal of diesel and some waterproof fuse. Dug a big ass hole, put the fertilizer and diesel in the hole, taped the fuse to an M-80, threw it in the hole and filled in the dirt. Lit the fuse and drove away a bit, next thing I know, the whole f*cking world was falling on me and I was crawling under my pickup.
Totaled the pickup.
He had to replace lots of his own and neighbor's windows, this is with 40 acre lots.
The Sheriff came out.
The town Police came out.
He figured the reason he didn't go to jail was his being pale, shaking and deaf when they talked to him.
The creek didn't run for 3 days afterwards while it filled the "bomb crater".
His pond turned out not too wide but deep blue in the middle.
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Re: The liar's bench

Post by DFitz » Tue Jun 11, 2013 12:45 pm

I used to play with my pop's black powder. He had several cans and we'd wile away the summer days trying to figure out how to make small bombs. I came up with the idea of stuffing the powder into a small balloon and reinforcing it with plaster. I formed it into a nice ball and inserted a homemade fuse. Smaller versions had worked well. It was pretty bright out on the day we decided to test this homemade explosive and the sun was high. I let the fuse and we stood back to see the effects. Nothing! I walked back to the bomb, bent over to relight the fuse when it went off. It didn't explode however. Instead, it sprayed out a fire with furry first spraying in the face causing a temporary blindness and spun off onto the dead grass we called our lawn. This little whistler continued across the lawn spinning around setting fire to everything it touched.

We lived on a farm so :idea: we decided to gather grass from the nearby areas in the adjacent field in hopes of covering the damage until the grass could grow back. I got quite a flash burn but played it off of setting anthills on fire and that the fuel flashed. Anyway, the next day my dad was standing in the yard near out failed experiment as we were with him discussing work of the chicken pen when the wind picked up.. Grass started blowing around revealing the devastation we caused... The cat leaped out of the bag thanks to our younger brother who was always a wealth of information... you can guess the rest... :lol:

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Re: The liar's bench

Post by Braz » Tue Jun 11, 2013 2:24 pm

Jimbo wrote:With just the right size rock taped to it. An M-80 will sink to the middle of a perch hole.
Back in the day, (I'm really old) the acetelyne gas for torches was made on site by dripping water on carbide crystals. We'd fill a pint mason jar about a quarter full of carbide and poke a couple holes on the top to let water drip in, then toss in a rock for weight. Throw the jar in the lake and wait a while. Pretty soon the jar would explode under water like a depth charge on a submarine and the fish would come bobbing to the top just waiting to be harvested.
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Re: The liar's bench

Post by S-Cackalacky » Tue Jun 11, 2013 4:56 pm

Braz wrote:
Jimbo wrote:With just the right size rock taped to it. An M-80 will sink to the middle of a perch hole.
Back in the day, (I'm really old) the acetelyne gas for torches was made on site by dripping water on carbide crystals. We'd fill a pint mason jar about a quarter full of carbide and poke a couple holes on the top to let water drip in, then toss in a rock for weight. Throw the jar in the lake and wait a while. Pretty soon the jar would explode under water like a depth charge on a submarine and the fish would come bobbing to the top just waiting to be harvested.
Ole boys in S. Cack used to talk about telephoning fish. They would drop two wires over the side of the boat with the other two ends connected to one of those old timey hand crank telephone generators. The electric shock would temporarily stun the fish and they would come floatin' to the surface. Never tried it myself.

Just sayin',
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Re: The liar's bench

Post by Tater » Tue Jun 11, 2013 5:49 pm

Clem Clyde and Claude were friends who shared lies on pouch of the country store .Problem was ole Clyde got to telling them so big and so unbelievable it was taking fun right outta the conversations. So to teach Clyde a lesson Clem and Claude decided to make up a lie so big even Clyde would see the era of his ways and get back to respectable lying.Next morning Clem and Claude went a little early so they would be there Clyde arrived .So here comes Clyde and Clem says Clyde ya aint gonna believe what we just saw !What did ya see says Clyde?We saw a she bear come running out of the woods say Clem and right behind it says Claude was fice dog snappin at its heels .Aw hell says Clyde.Yep say Clem and ya know what else?No what says Clyde .Well that little dog went round and round fighting that she bear and finally ran it down and killed it.No shit says Clyde .Yep and ya know what else says Claude that damn dog went to chewing at that bears nose and in ten minutes time ate that whole damn bear.Wow that hell of a thing yall saw says Clyde.Twas says Clem and Clyde do you believe us about this dog?Why I sure do says Clyde. Whys that asks Clem? Cause it was my dog that ya saw says Clyde. :)
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Re: The liar's bench

Post by Truckinbutch » Tue Jun 11, 2013 5:58 pm

HOT DAG! :thumbup: :thumbup: :clap:
This thread is going just where I was hoping it would go and has taken wings :clap: :clap:
The coloquial name was 'The Liars Bench " It was not limited to fabrication . Many real life stories were shared by the old timers . Those of us little mouth breathin heathens that had the patience to sit and listen learned many life lessons from the voices of experience .
That tradition can be passed along if you ALL keep passing wisdom learned here on this thread . Keep those great stories coming .
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Re: The liar's bench

Post by Black Eye » Tue Jun 11, 2013 6:04 pm

This threads like talking with my father in-law. Love it!
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Re: The liar's bench

Post by Truckinbutch » Tue Jun 11, 2013 10:27 pm

Those old hand crank phone generators were good for many uses besides phoning fish . Getin fishin worms was one .
Another concerned that ole cranky drunk that shot up our chickens and asses , as told in another story . Me and my buddy Keener Breck ( a great American and the reincarnation of Huckleberry Finn as well as a lifelong friend ) had some used leg wires off an electric blasting cap , a roll of shootin cable , crank phone generator , and a desire for revenge . Don't ask why we had this accumulation of toys or how .
We sneaked up to his shithouse late one night and wired the seat with shot wire run through a crack in the back siding boards . Stripped the ends of the 2 little wires bare and tacked them into the rim of the hole in the seat at what we judged was 2 ass cheeks apart . We hooked our shootin cable and reeled it back in the brush to a hidey hole and waited .
Just at first light he came out of the house headed for the backhouse . That straight legged , puckered kinda walk and him pullin his galluses off his shoulders as he went was an indication that this was a serious mission he was on .
We gave him time to get firmly planted on the seat and then we cranked for a long distance call !
>
>
>
Ever see an old man with his pants and suspenders around his ankles tear a shithouse door right off it's hinges and do hand springs through his yard while screaming and squirting shit in a 360 degree arc ? ..............................................................................................
We did that morning . We were gone by the time he got composed enough to think about gettin his Model 12 . I know he would have killed us otherwise .
Oh , and we took our generator and shootin cable with us . We had other uses for that at another time .
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Re: The liar's bench

Post by Bushman » Wed Jun 12, 2013 5:33 am

This was a great prank someone played on me and I can laugh about it now but at the time was no laughing matter.

Years ago I went down half way through Oregon to pick up my mother to bring her to our house for Christmas all told it's about a 7 hour trip one way. On the way home probably 1-1/2 hours into the trip I needed to use the restroom so I pulled into a gas station. Since I needed to take a dump I went into the stall and dropped my pants and sat down on the toilet seat. All of a sudden I felt a cool sensation on my bottom, thinking nothing of it I fInished my business wiped and headed out to the car. When I got into the car my ass was on fire so I told my mom I needed to go back into the bathroom. When I went back in I went into the stall and lifted the toilet seat. Someone had placed one of those hot sauce little plastic packets between the seat and the toilet so when pressure (sitting on the seat) was applied it would shoot out. I added to the problem when I wiped. That was one of the most painful 5-1/2 hour trips the rest of the way home I ever made.

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Re: The liar's bench

Post by Black Eye » Wed Jun 12, 2013 5:39 am

I think I know that feeling Bushman. I get that same burning everytime I eat Mexican, Indian or my fathers Chili.
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Re: The liar's bench

Post by heartcut » Wed Jun 12, 2013 6:46 am

We used to live in the Rockies and shared our outside living space with quite a few animals. Sometimes had to honk or even bump deer with the truck to get them to move. One Spring, a bear started getting into garbage cans. A bear gets into a garbage can by opening up the side, they don't know much about lids and such. What a mess. Anyway, I took a furnace ignition transformer (6000 volt secondary), connected it to the garbage can with a rubber mat under the can and stuck the other end on a ground stake, then went to bed. A few hours later a human sounding shriek woke all of us. Bear tracks came up to the can in a shuffle and left the area 9 feet apart, he was hauling ass. After that, the bear would only mess with plastic cans. He never visited us again.
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Re: The liar's bench

Post by S-Cackalacky » Wed Jun 12, 2013 5:08 pm

Medical Moonshine -

When my little brother was 4 or 5 years old, he got real sick. Mama and Daddy took him to the doctor and was told he had a serious case of measles. Problem was - he didn't break out with the usual rash associated with measles and apparently this isn't a good thing.

Mama went to an old lady friend who live down the road behind our house for advice. The old lady was something of a wild-crafter and was always giving Mama advice about home remedies - like taking sulfur to keep the chiggers off while blackberry pickin', or putting flaxseed meal paste on a boil to draw out the puss. She told Mama to get some moonshine and give a tablespoon to my little brother.

That evening Daddy drove to the County jailhouse, explained the problem, and asked the police (that's right) for some moonshine. He brought home a pint jar of moonshine. He poured out a big spoon full, held my little brothers nose with one hand, and shove the spoon way back in his mouth with the other hand. It wasn't 30 seconds later the boy's body was covered with a beet red rash.

God's honest truth.
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Re: The liar's bench

Post by wv_cooker » Wed Jun 12, 2013 6:27 pm

Well Butch should have known you would have started this. My Dad, my Brother and I built us a pretty nice Hunting camp up in Randolph county. It became Mom and Dads retirement home for many years. Back when we first built it we had a slight problem with a thief breaking in when we weren't there. Dad asked me what was we going to do. I thought a little and remembered we had a couple blasting caps from a little tree removal project and I said get me a blasting cap. I put it in a coffee can above the porch ceiling and wired it to a trip switch on the screen door. Then I went out to the back corner of the house a drove a couple stakes in the ground about a foot high and pulled me a trip wire about 30 or 40 feet out in a straight line from the house. Now you have to realize it was winter and the snow was falling pretty frequently. well to shorten the story a bit, when we pulled back up to the camp a couple weeks later we found a pretty good size hole in the porch ceiling that I had to fix by the way. When we went to check the trip wire it looked like world war III had taken place in the back yard, so we walked on out to the back of the property and low and behold there were tracks back and forth off of our property where someone had been going around our land to get back and forth to where he was going. I've often wandered how long it took for him to get his heart going again only to run out and about kill himself on the trip wire. I imagine it took a few days to get his hearing back, but you could plainly see in the snow that he had learned a good lesson which was bypass that piece of property!! I guess the days of the liars bench led to some pretty good ingenuity in this circumstance. We won't talk about fishing with M-80's and a 22, and I guess everybody had an old phone generator at one time or the other, but you forgot to talk about rock salt in a 12 gauge when tipping over outhouses, but that's for a different story. Sad part is I was raised in the big city!

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ga flatwoods
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Re: The liar's bench

Post by ga flatwoods » Wed Jun 12, 2013 6:43 pm

White dog ujssm 3rd generation tonight through pot still. Poured some into a red solo cup to try "straight out da still". ABV melted through the damn cup! They dont make anything like they used to , then again neither do I!
The hardest item to add to a bottle of shine is patience!
I am still kicking.
Ga Flatwoods

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Truckinbutch
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Re: The liar's bench

Post by Truckinbutch » Wed Jun 12, 2013 7:20 pm

WVCOOKER ,
You ,sir , are a classic example of how you can take the boy out of the country ; but , you can't take the country out of the boy :clap: :clap:
If you ain't the lead dog in the team , the scenery never changes . Ga Flatwoods made my avatar and I want to thank him for that .
Don't drink water , fish fornicate in it .

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Re: The liar's bench

Post by 00Buckshot » Wed Jun 12, 2013 8:55 pm

“boys will be boys”

When I was 16 there was an old bridge way back in the woods all the local kids went to in the summer to jump off and drink beer when we could get older kids to buy it for us. This bridge was about 40 feet long and sat about ten feet off the water but you could climb to the top and it was 25 ft drop(one kid jumped off when the river was low and broke his foot but that’s another story). Anyway one hot summer morning me and a group of about 15 kids had scored some beer and were sittin on the edge of the bridge when we saw our local sheriff coming from about 100 feet away. Being all too young to be in possession of alcoholic we all jumped of the bridge like something stuck a hot coal under us. Well most the kids figured the sheriff would just pass by so they all hide on the bank under the bridge, but me and dale didn’t wanna take any chances and proceeded to swim down the river about 20 feet and run up the bank into a heavily wooded area and layed down. Well we sat there watched from a safe distance as the sheriff got out and went down to the bank and told all the kids to come up so he could write them tickets if they werent of legal age. Well there I was thinking I was all slick having out foxed the sheriff when I looked over at dale to give him a shit eating grin and noticed he was lying flat on his chest arms out in nothing but a swimming suit in a bed of poison ivy, I then proceeded to look around me and sure as shit so was I! cuss words were whispered back and forth while we tried to decide what to do. It took every fiber of my being not to run and jump in the river and try to wash it off but I knew if I did the sheriff would catch me. Well we layed there for about 2 hours while all the tickets were being written the whole time telling myself it was worth it so I didn’t have to pay the fine and catch a beating from my dad. Well as it turns out the sheriff didn’t end up filing the tickets and just wanted to scare us kids. For the next 3 weeks the whole front of my chest, arms, legs, and face was covered in rash and same for dale. When my dad asked me what happened as he knew that I knew what poisoin ivy looked like I had to tell him the truth, after I was done and expected to at LEAST be grounded he just looked off in the distance laughed walked away and said “boys will be boys”.

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Re: The liar's bench

Post by Coyote » Thu Jun 13, 2013 9:26 am

No doubt you have all seen the movie "One flew over the Cuckoo's Nest"
Much of which was filmed in Oregon

In one scene they put gasoline in a light bulb and when you flip the switch - BOOM!!

During our Jr year of high school one of my running buddies allowed how that would never work.

Being raised on the ranch there are 3 things you always have in good supply.

Gas, light bulbs, and needles.

So we get a light bulb, heat a needle to melt a hole just under the metal cap,
wait for it to cool and push about 2 ounces of gas in the bulb with a syringe.

A drop light from the shop, 200 feet of extension cord, drape the bulb carefully
over the barb wire fence, a good safe distance from anything that might catch
fire, more than 50 feet away from the nearest stubble field - we had just finished
wheat harvest a week earlier - and from the safety of the shop, plugged her in !!

HOLY SHIT BATMAN the fireball had to have been 100 feet in diameter! In a matter of
seconds we have the edge of a 150 acre stubble field in flames and growing RAPIDLY !

Not earlier I said we had just finished wheat harvest a week before - So setting a 100 yards
away is the FWD tractor with the disk still hooked behind it, Run like hell, fire it up and start cutting
fire lines. It is a farm land phenomenon that the first puff of smoke rises 6 feet above the
ground and every farmer within 3 miles is headed your way with tractors, water trucks and even shovels.

By the time we got the fire stopped we had 5 tractors, 2 - 1,000 gallon water tankers, and the local
sheriff all there and helping.

When my buddies dad showed up and was talking to the Sheriff, near the shop they notice the extension cord laying
on the ground and follow it out to the now melted and useless drop light . . . . . . . . . . .

Buddies Dad and the Sheriff are not with us any longer - but my Father still remembers.

Coyote
"Slow Down , You'll get a more harmonious outcome"
"Speed & Greed have no place in this hobby"

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