The most "bad ass" act you have witnessed?

In My Humble Opinion
101

When I was in grade 7, three boys from grade 8 cornered me in between the portables. I don’t know what they were going to do to me (I’m female) but I freaked out. I kicked one in the balls and grabbed another by his hair and took off running, dragging him behind me. Once I was half way across the field I looked back and the guy I was dragging was running as fast as he could, but his head was pulled right down so he was all off balance and his legs and arms were flailing all over.

When I finally let go I had a huge chunk of his hair in my fist.

Oh, I was about 4 foot 8 and 100 pounds.

102

Two stories about my Dad.

First story happen before I was born.

This was before the present tresspass laws. Two hunters were on the ranch property. They could not find any game so they were just shooting off their guns in the air. The bullets were landing around the ranch house. Dad went out back until he found them. When he informed them where their bullets were landing and told them it was time to leave, one of them pointed his rifle at him and ask just who’s going to make us. Dad backed away from them and went back to the ranch house. He picked up the old 22 single shot rifle. He circled around behind them. He laid one shot through one of the guys buttock’s cheek. They both dropped their rifles and took off running. Dad picked the rifles and delievered them to the county sherrif with an explaniation.
The second story happened when I was about 4.

Dad had just fininshed butchering out a cow. The two sides were still hanging outside when a swarm of yellow jackeds landed on both sides. Yellow jackets are meat eaters. Dad carried first one then the other sides into the milk house ( a small house with screen doors and windows). all the time he was carring the sides the yellow jackets were stinging and bitting him. He hung the meet in the milk house then proceded to use water to wash the yellow jackets off and down the drain.

103

August 29, 1969

A little background. I was a Marine and got to Vietnam about the end of February 1969.

One of the first persons I met was PFC Thomas L. Ferguson (he’s the second picture down). He was unusual from the git go. A very average sized man, a little older than most of us, I think he was 25. He was smart. He had degrees in physics and chemistry. This was his second go round in Vietnam. The first was in the Army where he did 2 years in Vietnam. I think he got out and worked on the second of his two degrees. He told me one day that he decided to go back to Vietnam when he realized that (and honest to Og these were his exact words) he was, “Bored, bilious, and discontent.” He went into the Marines because the Army wouldn’t promise him Vietnam.

On the night of August 29th we were ambushed while trying to go to the aid of another company. We had 2 killed and another 7-8 wounded. When things started to slow down a guy came over to where I was and told me, “Your buddy Ferguson is dead.” This really bothered me so I was really happy to find out a bit later that he was only wounded.

There wasn’t much going on so I crawled over to where the medi-vacs were to say goodby. He was in a lot of pain from a wound in his upper arm so I wanted to cheer him up and was telling him he’d be okay

He laughed at me and said, “I’ve been over here a long time and I’ve seen a lot of men come and go, and I’m going.” There was a short pause and he continued, “And this is just the way I wanted to go.”

He didn’t die. In 1970 I got a letter from him (I was back home and out of the service then) saying he was back in Vietnam with a couple more scars to show for his efforts. When our company started having reunions in the late '90s there was a man who said he ran into him at Camp Pendleton in 1971. Ferguson was a Staff Sergeant, a remarkable rate of premotion. When asked about his plans he said he was getting out as the Marines wouldn’t send him back to Vietnam.

104

Back in high school, I took a class in the sport of fencing (as in, ritualized sword play with foils), taught by a professor at Hunter College who I later discovered was something of a legend in the world of fencing (Julia Jones).

She was a diminutive woman, well under five feet tall, but still wiry and spry at nearly 80 years of age. One day, one of my classmates – a 16-year-old guy – made a comment that while this was all fun enough as a gym elective, we were all starting way too late to become serious in the sport: the elite fencers of the world all started very early, at like age 3, so that when they reached their physical prime in their mid-twenties they combined it with twenty years of experience to back it up, to a degree that we could never match with only a few years of training. She rebutted that while that was often true for the Olympian caliber fencers, fencing was worth pursuing as a lifelong sport because it was mostly mental: what one lost in agility due to age was typically more than made up with guile and conservation of energy.

“Oh, come on,” said Sixteen Year Old Guy. “If you’re fast enough, that’s that, isn’t it? That’s what it means to be fast.”

With a twinkle in her eye, she stood about three feet away in front of the fellow, nearly a foot taller and over sixty years younger than herself. “You think so, do you? Think you’re faster than me? I bet you are. Well then, raise your arm.” And she raises her right arm with her index finger extended, and gestures for him to raise his right arm in a similar fashion (without a foil in hand). “I’m going to touch you in the chest with my finger. You try and stop me with your arm.”

She then extended her arm straight in an attacking line, and began slowly walking towards him, with a measured pace. Sixteen Year Old Guy waved his right arm left, right, up and down, never making contact with her arm as it inexorably moved closer and closer to him. He backed up to the wall, but still she advanced calmly and slowly… And bink!, touched him on the chest.

Truly, I felt like I had witnessed Yoda giving Luke a smackdown, but in real life.

105

NCAA Wrestling comes to mind first.

Take for instance Cael Sanderson. Dude never lost. 159-0 throughout his four-year career. 4 NCAA National Championships. (3x Outstanding Wrestler) Later became a World and Olympic Gold Medalist. None of his matches were even close either. He literally wiped the mat with everybody.

Though that is extreme, wrestlers with literally only a few losses throughout their entire career is not all that uncommon. Brent Metcalf currently wrestling out of Iowa has only 2 losses (both to the same guy) and typically destroys everyone he faces.

And wrestlings not an easy sport. All of the competition takes the sport very seriously. Trust me, they eat, sleep, breathe wrestling. It just so happens that the top guys have something special that allows them to succeed.

Just google or youtube these guys and you’ll see what I mean. There’s more of them out there, too.

Also, Anderson Silva seems pretty unstoppable right about now.

106

I only saw it on TV, but this guy just has to qualify: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9-nXT8lSnPQ

107

Off topic attempt to fight my ignorance-why wasn’t such a multi-degreed person put into officer’s school? You’d think the Army/Marines would have something better for him to do than to stick his ass into a foxhole and let it rot.

108

Maybe this was the position he wanted? I imagine that giving someone a comission they don’t want is a fine way to get a very poor officer. Besides, smart enlisted men are quite useful, and stupid ones a liability.

109

I’m going to need a cite for wasps with a taste for beef.

110

They love meat. I’ve been bitten by them (not stung. Bitten.) at cookouts featuring salmon and hotdogs.

But for cites:
Here: “Yellow jackets feed mostly on scavenged meat, insects, and other small animals they capture. They are omnivorous, however, and will eat almost anything.”

And here (scroll down to the Yellow Jacket section): “Yellow jackets eat spiders and insects. They will also feed on human food, especially meats and sweets.”

111
  • So, why do we call them “meat bees”? Well, like most wasps, yellowjackets are predators. The larvae (the worm stage) are fed meat by the adults, which fly around looking for such sources. Link *

Using meat to trap yellow jackets:

*5. Addition of a protein supplement will improve yellow jacket catch greatly. Proteins are highly desirable in the early spring and mid summer months. Carbohydrates are very attractive in the late summer to early fall.
Protein sources:
Fish ham, turkey ham ( very good ), Yellow Jackets do not like spoiled foods. Keep proteins fresh.
Carbohydrates:
Apple Juice, Fruit Juice, Fruit wine, various syrups that don’t spoil.

  1. Place Protein source (fish, ham , sardines) on enclosed aluminum rod and place on top of the disposable liner that contains the soapy water. Link *
112

Wow. Ignorance fought.

113

( Bolding & italics mine) That I’d both love to see and be afraid to see at the same time!

114

The guy in the striped shirt = badass

115

Not to be Debbie Downer, but a lot of people can do that pretty regularly. I can, but my teeth have always been super healthy, despite my best efforts to destroy them. I do it once in a while, mostly to show off at a party like a dipshit, but sometimes it really is simply easier than trying to find a proper opener (and I’ve never been able to do the lighter thing).

116

Not wasps yellow jacket.

I have had chuncks taken out of my arm so my cite would be the site of my right arm.

117

deleted

118

I think that may be the one and only time I’ve ever genuinely cheered at a post on a message board!

Edited to add that of course my nick comes from the many, many acts of utter heroic badassery I’ve personally accomplished, but modesty forbids… :wink:

119

That was nuts.

If we’re showing videos, I’ve always liked martial arts instructor vs. pimp. Just love the complete cool and matter-of-factness the guy has.

120

Public pranks can be hilarious, but they depend on people not wanting to stand up and say “What the hell, folks?” When someone actually does, I can’t fault them at all. And man, what a kick.