When I first read the thread title, I thought: “That one scene in Hannibal (if you’ve seen it, you know the one).”.
…but after reading this thread, it’s hardly worth mentioning.
[list=1][li]With this thread, who needs daytime television?[/li]
[li]More Casey stories![/li]
Hi Opal!
Two stories:
First, it was some time ago, about 6 or 7 years or so. I was quite heavy into the club scene back then, and so was a friend of mine. We often went to the same club in Amsterdam that had quite a reputation of being kinky and extreme. There was my first experience with some XTC and I really liked it. My friend as well but a bit too much (why this is important comes later). Anyway, he managed to score a girl he took home and it was already agreed that I would stay over as well. Unfortunately, there was only one bedroom… When we came home, I was quite tired and being the tactful person, I went straight to bed, leaving the two alone in the living room. It didn’t take very long before I was asleep, but after a while a was awoken by some strange noices. I was looking down from my bed and saw those two lovers vehemently going at it. And I mean, seriously doing ‘the thing’. I couldn’t do anything but watching full of amazement. I was too polite to say anything about it, so I just layed there. To make matters worse however (if that were even possible) they started muttering that something was amiss. It turned out that while they were going at it, the condom was slipping off. They cursed rather loudly and suddenly they lost it. They couldn’t find it anywhere. So the bed was searched and the entire room. I still kept asleep and they probably believed it. Suddenly a roar of euphoria sounded when the couple found the rubber again, but ofcourse they couldn’t use it anymore so they disposed of it in a rather unusual way: they just threw it over their shoulder and started to go down on each other again. You probably guessed where the condom landed: right, just on my pillow, very near my mouth… Anyway, the whole action lasted for another hour or so before they finally stopped. And I was in the meantime quite aroused and very unable to sleep…
The second story is a bit more raunchy and also homo erotic, so you can turn your head now if you can’t stomach it…
This happened the same year, with the same guy and the same club. You do need to know that I always had a major crush on the guy, even though it was my best friend. He probably knew that but never mentioned it. Anyway, we were out there clubbing again, and both had one or two doses of E in our system. The night wasn’t that great for some reason so we decided to call it an early one and do some chilling at home. So we sat there, both quite high, not saying much, just very busy with yourself. When all of a sudden, out of nowhere, a tiny voice in the corner says: “Hey, how about you give me a blowjob?” Ofcourse, at first I didn’t knew what I heard. Here’s this immensely nadsome guy, who is straight as hell, asking me if I want to go down on him. Ofcourse, that feeling lasted for only a few seconds. After that I only enjoyed the ride of E induced horniness.
Well, there was this time that I was out of town on business and staying in a motel. On my last night, I went out and partied down, so, crocked, I was walking back to my motel when I was accosted by this great looking hooker and decided, ‘what the hell’ and worked out an agreement. As we headed for my room, we did a bit of snuggling ---- and he had something between her legs that women don’t normally have but guys do.
That sobered me up damn fast! She/he did not get anywhere near my room, was rudely told to beat it and when I got back, I washed my mouth out with toothpaste, bar soap and mouthwash!
Two stories, which unfortunatley are pretty graphic. They are both burned into my head and both are absolutely true.
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About 1980 or so. Walking through Spotsylvania Mall with my dad, who builds furniture as a hobby. A guy is in the middle of the Mall giving a demonstration of woodworking equipment so my dad and I stand there and watch, talk to him about the equipment, etc. The guy is working with a planer (you feed the stock (lumber) into the machine and it essesntially shaves the piece so that its smooth and of uniform thickness). The man is talking to my dad and paying no attention to what he’s doing. Suddenly his whole arm gives this tremendous jerk and the machine starts to whine. His hand has been pulled into the machine and blood and flesh is being spit out the other end. My dad immediately recognized what had happened and yanked the power cord from the socket and started prying the blade up. The guy, once he can, starts to scream bloody murder. I froze. Completely. Not only did my jaw drop, but so did I. Passed out right there in the Mall. Not anywhere near as gruesome as…
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Seeing a man’s head explode. 1996/7. Colonial Downs racetrack (the first horse racing facility in VA) is being built and I’m the Planning Director. Due to legal hassels the company building the facility (a $60 million project) have to build it in about 8 months. People are working around the clock, just busting ass. I was on the site about a week before opening day. I’m standing near the side of a road that is being asphalted. Beep, beep, beep. A dump truck is backing up. As I turn around I see one of the workers get knocked down in the rear of the truck and then it backs over his head. Utterly horrific. I will never ever ever forget it. I took 2 weeks off from work it freaked me out so bad. The crew took the rest of the day off but came back the next day to finish the job. They said that the poor guy would have wanted them to finish the job. There’s a bronze marker by the side of Colonial Downs Parkway the crew erected in his memory. Shudder.
JESUS!!! Bum everyone out, why don’t you. Holy fuck.
MOST!! of you.
i tell you, my jaw dropped when i read that one!
More Casey stories, huh?
Well, I was reluctant to put this in, since it’s really just as sad as it is shocking, and it really underscores why Casey was a tragic character, but after plnnr’s tales I might as well call this one “Casey Goes to Disneyland and Lives Happily Ever After” (even though it’s really the story of how Casey gave his car keys to homeless people, with predictable results).
Anyway, this took place over about three weeks, so I’m not sure that there was a literal “jaw-dropping” moment (though there may have been several, I don’t remember). As a whole, however, its “holy-shit-what-the-fuck-did-I-just-see” quotient is astoundingly high.
Casey had trouble making friends. As I’ve said, he had tourette’s syndrome and the only people he hung with were real A-holes who took advantage of him or outright abused him (and you seldom see that in college). The reason he moved into my room was because his suitemates would steal his stuff, had moved all his furniture out into the hall one time, had held him down and poured maple syrup on him, etc. (The problem was that he moved one door down from them. Now whenever they wanted to bother him they had to walk all of 25 feet.) Anyway, this is just background on Casey.
He spent alot of time in AOL chat rooms. Apparently, he met one couple that lived here in the Albany area online. They were getting kicked out of wherever it was they were staying and Casey offered to let them crash in the suite (not that he told us any of this; all we heard was that his “friends” would be staying here for a night or two if that was ok). Really contentious, unpleasant people these two. Mid-late twenties, often bickering – he’d “served time for attempted murder” to hear his wife tell it. I referred to them privately as Ma and Pa Cletus; they were Albany hicks, and not in a good way.
During their time with us they took advantage of Casey just like everyone else, having him drive them around and such. After 2 days, myself and our other 2 two suitemates insisted to Casey that he get rid of them, which he did (though we learned later that he did this by agreeing to pay for their hotel room at $50 a night). Over the next week or so they drop by occasionally to make some sort of demands of Casey, usually car rides or a loan. Apparently they became threatening. One day I got back from class, took two steps into my room and saw Casey hiding, quite literally, in the closet. Before I can comment on this, someone bangs on the door – it’s Pa Cletus. He demands to see Casey, doesn’t believe me when I tell him Casey’s not here, implies he intends to do violence to my person if I don’t go get Casey. “Sorry man, I don’t know what to tell you. Leave.” <Slam>. We call UPD (University Police Department), but Elvis has left the building.
One day, however, they come for Casey when no one else is around. They won’t quit demanding a ride to someplace. Cssey can’t get them to leave. Making the only logical choice, Casey gives the homeless couple his car keys, they say they’ll bring it back “soon.”
One week later, we still haven’t heard back from them. After contacting the police (who apparently contacted the Cletus’ family, who then told Ma and Pa that the cops were involved), the Cletus clan calls up, says they’re in Buffalo, and that they’ll bring the car back tomorrow. They don’t, of course.
In the meantime, Casey hasn’t told his mother and stepfather, hoping to get the car back before they figure anything’s wrong. Eventually he has to explain why he needs a ride to work, however. For obvious reasons, he tells them that the Cletus’ stole the car keys. He did this laboring under the false impression that the “Student Privacy Act” would prevent the police from telling his parents what actually happened. Casey’s mother was overly involved with his life (handled every problem Casey told her about), so she probably would’ve called UPD anyway. What Casey says to her, however, is still possibly the stupidest thing anyone has ever said. “Of course I told the police, but they can’t tell you about what happened so don’t even bother calling them, 'cause they can’t tell you what happened 'cause of the Student Privacy Act, so don’t even call them . . . Ok, but they’re not gonna tell you anything.” Of course, the car was registered under his stepfather’s name, so the cops told him what had happened. 15 minutes after he ends his conversation with his mother, his phone rings again.
Now, Casey had, easily, five huge fights with his mother over the phone each week, but this one took the cake. 45 minutes of screaming and tears and apologies (the highlight, in a sad sort of way: Casey screaming at his stepfather, “DON’T CALL ME A SHITHEAD!”).
Anyway, a couple of weeks later, the Cletus’ show up to a court date in some nearby town (for some completely different offence), with a warrant out for their arrest mind you. They show up for the court date in their stolen car; the cops were there to arrest them.
Casey got his car back, but it was a holy mess: wrappers and all manner of trash littered the whole thing, one of the windows was smashed, the windshield wipers were destroyed, the driver’s side mirror had been ripped off, and after they got tired of living in the car they had their dog live in the car, so the back seat was completely covered in dog shit.
I guess that’s it. . .
This is what did it for me. It was back in the 80s and I was
making a living driving a compressed gas truck. It was a Friday
and I had finished my run late in the day. I had gotten back to
the yard when I was informed that they had a few deliveries to
be made in Manhattan that had to go today. So I get a helper
(it was about 3 PM) and the construction crews that where
getting the delivery usually quit about 4 .
First stop is off of Park Ave near the Hemsly building (don’t
remember the actual street, may have been 49th?).We are told
to pull up behind this flatbed that they were unloading steel from
– again it was a Friday afternoon and they decided to do it in one
big lift-and wait to unload onto the same Crane [the type they erect
in the elevator shaft on skyscrapers) I exit the truck and get ready
to unload.
Off in the distance I hear a sort of tinkling. I look up and see this
load of I beams coming down from the 50th floor. Being the cool
and calm individual that I pride myself on- I proceed to RUN the
other way-not sure but may have been screaming like a girl- I am
thinking that when this load hits it may spring and I may be better
served to stop and look so that I may dodge the flying girders.
The load hits about 35’ from me with a mighty roar and nary a bounce.
I look up and see the crane has collapsed across the street and the
only thing that prevented its coming down was the building on the
other side. I CAREFULLY go back to find my helper and thank God
he is alive and well if not frozen in the cab, my truck in covered in
bricks from the building across the way. Under the girders we find
a bumper and license plate of what used to be a car, Turns out that
the owner had doubled park and run into the building to make a phone
call.
The end results is that only one woman was hurt but had later died.
Truly amazing considering it was rush hour!
Hate to rain on your little laff parade, but:
MOST!! of us switched cars, and not all of us, because none of us wanted to be left on the platform as we went through this little maneuver. New Yorkers know that the “F” stands for Few and Far Between, especially on a weekend morning. Masturbating weirdo or no masturbating weirdo, you don’t want to spend 20 minutes waiting for the next train.
Of course, if it happened now, he’d have a cell phone – and he’d be The Amazing Human Crepe. Sorta makes you appreciate simpler times :p.
Man, no wonder you found him so attractive!
Try as I might, I can’t think of any stories to share at this point (contain your disappointment). But what has made my jaw drop? Every single post in this entire freaking thread!
January 28, 1986, actually. It was my 12th birthday. My 6th grade class was eating the cupcakes my mom made and watching the launch as a special treat. Ooops!
In a subway station in Budapest, Hungary, I saw a vendor. On a blanket, spread out on the floor, he had 6 small puppies and 2 small boys. All were sleeping, obviously sedated.
Well, I’m out. (crumples up “human leg in the garbage can at work” story and wanders away)
Not so fast, Featherlou. My story only involved PROSTHETIC legs. I want to hear the details about your human leg in the garbage at work!
LOL yep, but you should have seen his face when he came out a few minutes later, Came out and looked around and asked me what happened to his car and I pointed at the bumper and said is this yours,andmore importantly was anyone in the car? (the answer was no) 
Seeing the remains of the Murrah Building in Oklahoma City.
I don’t get it, was he selling the children?
When I was 14 I knew a 17 year old girl with 3 children. This is not the jaw-dropping part.
This girl was a friend of my aunt’s. One day my aunt calls me over to babysit. I was kind of pissed because I knew G. (the girl with the kids) was staying over. Why did I have to get on a bus to watch her kids when her friend was already there.
Well, I’m there a while and G.s oldest, 4 at the time, is running around like a wild child. “It’s time for you to go to sleep.” she says and proceeds to empty his bottle of the juice it contained and fill it with Olde English Malt Liquor!
I realized then, my jaw gaping, why I was called across town.
I would like to think that he wasn’t selling the children, and I thought of possible reasons they could be asleep, in the middle of a pile of unconscious puppies in the middle of a subway station - maybe they are his children, just taking a nap! But I walked by him a few times that day and the puppies and the children were there, not moving. And probably for sale.