Bad, bad memory here, seems like ages ago (actually about 11 years ago). My SO had a terrible habit of disappearing literally for days at a time. Usually when he returned it was in an altered state with bogus, ridiculous explanations-one time he came home plastered reeking of liquor and told me he had been run over, taken to the hospital and the doctor forced him to drink a glass of gin with chiped ice, I swear, and usually he had spent every damn penny. So he is gone for a couple days, I had had it. I smashed almost everything in the apt. Glass wall units, pictures, lamps, glass coffee table, mirrors, etc. Then I left the place and stayed with my mom. That was a very frightening time, it really did not make me feel better afterwards, I scared myself, but I was young. That very definately was a different person. I am calmer than calm now, I am the Zen Master.
Tracer, c4 is a plastique explosive. When you see the hero/badguy in the movie slap a blob of putty on a wall, stuff a det in it, and run away before it goes BOOM, the putty is supposed to be c4. Don’t know where he got it though, since it is a controlled substance (Need a license to purchase as I recall)
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My worst rage? There was the time I flipped a VW bug over. Hurt for about a week after. I also used to make homemade gunpowder and blow things up…alas, it was my Star Wars figures that generally got the boom. might have been worth something today. :0
These days, I just startup quake/doom and go on a god mode bare hands killing spree. 
I tried to kill my brother.
People use that phrase lightly, but it was a serious attempt. If a knife had been available, my life would have been radically altered.
As it was, I cracked his rib, broke off two teeth and bruised a testicle badly enough that they discussed removing it.
He outweighed by about fifty pounds, but I was angrier.
Hasn’t happened since, but we still don’t talk, and this was 28 years ago.
When I was 15 or 16 I had a boyfriend. We’ll call him “Josh”. One day in late August, Josh decided it would be a good idea to break up with me. Then he decided it would be fun to spread really nasty rumors about me. So I found him at the pizza place in town, trashed his Honda CRX with a baseball bat and slammed him up against a brick wall repeatedly punching him in the face. My brother and three of his friends had to pull me off of my ex. It felt great until I got sent to kiddie jail.
I’ve hurt myself quite a bit, gotten in quite a few physical fights, and broken a lot of my own things. I’m better now. Mostly.
I used to lose control often as a child. I remember throwing a chair at my sister. I was very young so the chair didn’t go far but she got the message. I’ve since learned to control my temper. My biggest “rage” recently was last night.
I was burning a cd on my pc and when it was done, error free mind you, the damn pc couldn’t read it!
I ended up heaving the cd against the wall and shattering it. It felt good and it shattered on the first try!
I guess some of you would have heaved the pc instead.
The first that I remember as a child was, while I wasn’t a bully, I was a tomboy. There was a boy, bigger than I, who was picking on my youngest sister, I popped him on the side of his head with my fist, middle knuckle raised up slightly, as my good older brother had taught me. The guy LAUGHED, and I just saw RED, I started pounding him, till he wasn’t laughing anymore, he was lying quite still. My brother, who is almost five years older had to pull me off.
Did I feel better, no, I scared myself to pieces. All I could hear was my mother’s taunting of me in my head, ‘Dave, Jr.’ (my dreadful father’s name)
The last time (and only other time, I truly felt I could have killed) was my unhusband hitting my youngest son with a football. Duane is 6’4", and I’m 5’4", but he was sitting down at the kitchen table, yelling at me, ‘Hit ME! Hit ME!’ I just took the ball away from him and slammed it with all my force on the table right in front of him. I’m grateful to this day, we don’t own guns, or I would have killed him that night.
I didn’t feel better then either, I only scared myself, and my two sons, it wasn’t worth it. I still feel bad about both those incidents in my life.
Hmmm…I’ve been into more of hurting myself than hurting objects or other people. My left arm gets the brunt of it, with scrapes and scratches all over, sometimes drawing blood. Though that’s more like self-injury than just fits of rage, I guess. Just this morning I was mad at my mom so I found a wire and slashed my arm until it was bright red, then I went to band camp all cheery and happy. I guess it’s just my way of relieving stress and built-up feelings.
C4, PLastique, is a VERY stable, yet very high explosive, all you need is the stuff, an electronic blasting cap, and a long wire… a battery also…
just hook it up, and set the wire on the battery when ready to go off, and BOOM!
HUGE explosion… very satisfying…
I live near an army training center, and they have high-artillery training field, and sometimes the tank rounds don’t go off… it’s up to me to go there, find them, and make good use of the otherwise spent C4… BWAHAHAHHAHAHA
Several years ago, I had been to a party very late at night. I took my life in my hands traveling to my (now) ex-BF’s house where I found a strange chick in the upstairs naked. (In his defense, his friend was with her that night. I found him in a closet a couple of hours later. Hiding like a rat. Naked and shaking. But I digress.)
Anyhow, in my drunken stupor, I assumed the worst and went absolutely nuts. I found her purse and threw it through the kitchen window. This was after I took her credit cards, driver’s license, social security card and every thing else and ran them through the garbage disposal. I then grabbed her by the hair of the head, dragged her down the stairs and stomped the living sh** out of her, bashing her head against the door frame and counter top several times before she escaped from my grasp. In the process of fleeing from me, she lost quite a bit of hair from her scalp — I was still holding on when she backed away.
She had five years, 100 pounds, and probably a good foot-and-a-half over me, but I was pissed. To this day, I still can’t believe I was capable of that.
BTW, she required no emergency treatment and she never darkened the door of that house again. On the bright side, everyone in town gained a newfound respect for what this chick could do when she’s ticked off.
I’ve since given up the booze and all-night parties. And I never allow myself to get that furious, regardless of the situation.
Finally! The years of research by the dog scientists have paid off. The doorknob principle is now understood! Truly, dogsbody, your dog must be revered in the canine community.
Back to the topic…
I threw the controller at my Nintendo.
Hundreds of times.
Ultimately breaking the first Nintendo, and then the second.
I also broke my best friend’s Sega Master System controller throwing it.
I broke a Nintendo64 controller crushing it into the ground.
I smashed a mouse playing Quake.
I threw a phone into a wall, tearing a hole in the drywall, when losing a Duke Nukem 3D match.
But I’ve got it under control now 
BTW, all the stuff I’ve destroyed anyway was not mine and found out in the woods near my house, where my neighbors used to use it as a dump big stuff place…
so I was out nothing except a meager $0.30 for the blasing cap and fuse…
Anti Pro wrote:
Um … so … your “unhusband” (what’s that, a hubbie made of antimatter?) threw a football at your youngest son (how old at the time?), and then started yelling, “Hit me! Hit me!”, and … and that made you want to kill him?
Punched my ex-husband, it was more like self-defense though.
I used to work as a bartender in a mexican restaurant and was disturbed that they didn’t recycle their liquor bottles. A coctail waitress and I took it upon ourselves to do it on our own. When we got a big boxfull, we’d take it to the local center where you had to sort it yourself. We both agreed that it was cathartic (sp?).
Instead of just dumping the whole box in, we’d throw them one by one, shattering a little bit of anger with each bottle. It did wonders for the soul.
Heh. Rage.
I used to be the rage fuckin’ mastah.
I have flown off the handle manny a time, and done lots of shitty things.
Most of which in HS.
Why, in a fit of rage I once:
[ul]
[li]beat a guy’s head against his car until it smashed his windshield.[/li][li]tossed a dude out of a plate-glass window, it was the front of a Subway.[/li][li]Threw an aerosol can at a guy. I missed. It hit a girl on the eyebrow and fractured her headbone. REALLY regret that one. Sorta. But that’s another story all it’s own.[/li][li]tossed another guy out of my house. Didn’t bother to open the sliding glass door first.[/li][li]flipped a coffee table out of my way, causing it to break a TV.[/li][li]jumped off a balcony into a swimming pool, breaking my wrist.[/li][li]yelling and cussing at my mom, like a dumbfuck. REALLY, REALLY regret that one. Totally.[/li][li]shoved my best friend into a cop.[/li][li]shoving said cop, resulting in an ass-kicking by a bigger cop and an uncomfortable hour in the back of a squad car.[/li][li]kicked a wall, resulting in broken toe.[/li][li]kicked a wall, resulting in a broken wall.[/li][li]punched a door, resulting in a broken door.[/li][li]head butted a friend, knocking him out.[/li][li]bitch-slapping another friend, resulting in him kicking my ass all over the place.[/li][li]pushing a friend off a man-made waterfall, resulting in the loss of a friend. Um, I don’t mean he died, I just mean he wasn’t my friend after that.[/li][li]punched the side of my truck till it had a big-ass dent. Can you say “dumbass”?[/li][li]yelled at my (then)girlfriend so loud that it blew her cap off. No, she didn’t dump me.[/li][li]jumped on a dude’s hood and kicked his windshield in.[/li][li]pulled the dude out and beat him unconscious.[/li][li]chased a chick around a neighborhood, threatening to kill her.[/li][li]beat a pay-phone with the receiver till the phone broke.[/li][li]ripped a mail-box out of some random yard, walked down the street, and tossed it through the front window of another random house.[/li][li]repeatedly slapped a guy till he cried, then kicked him around the room.[/li][li]threw a kitten against a wall, resulting in a kitty funeral.[/li][li]blew up a tree-stump with dynamite.[/li][li]wrecking (I mean totaling) my jeep.[/li][li]wrecking (I mean totaling) my friends honda.[/li][/ul]
And many other things that I can’t bear to admit, for the simple reason that they are really bad.
I am not that guy anymore, and I really regret all these horrible things that I’ve done.
Except throwing the aerosol can at that guy and bustin’ that chic on her headpiece.
But like I say, that’s a story unto itself.
Well, I punched through a couple of sheetrock walls in my teens. Surprisingly satisfying, actually. And I once assaulted a pinball machine, but I was going through Welbutrin withdrawl, so it might not have been entirly my fault.
I’m really a pretty affable guy, though. I tend to only get mad about trivial things. Big things I usually can take in stride. Usually.
I shouldn’t have shot Archduke Ferdinand, though. That was a mistake.
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“He’s calling upon the power of Bryant Adams!”
If I ever open a bar, I want Lexi and Sheerah to be my bouncers.
For the OP:
As a kid I beat the tarnation out of my little brother countless times. Feel bad about it now, though.
Threw lots of things at my mom, mostly whatever I was already holding when she pissed me off. Like my hairbrush or the phone and one time an open box of cereal.
Kicked a plate of spaghetti up into the face of a man seated on a couch. Upon impact, it splattered up the wall in the most pleasing garlic-scented sunburst imaginable. Don’t feel bad about it at all.
Put my head through a window.
As a teen, I had a HUGE rage problem. As I’ve gotten older, its gotten better. Starting blood pressure medication really helped.
note to self- Do not piss lexi off. do not even think bad thoughts of lexi, incase he is telepathic.
Rage, was a buddy of mine. I have-
smashed up a bike with a baseball bat.
countless things smashed against walls to prevent me smashing them off someone else. (I did this alone, away from the person, at a later stage)
and just for fun, to work off a depression, smashed a guitar. yeah, yeah, teenage angst and all that.
now, I let it all slide. No-one is worth me losing my temper, and I havent lost it in about 6 years.
mama, you threw stuff…at your MOTHER!!!
Lisa, shaking my head and wondering where I would have lived after I threw ANYthing at my mother.
I’ve gotten in fights, some of them wimpy, but then again some of them were pretty bad. Especially in middle school, where there were a lot of kids I didn’t like. I was a big guy in middle school, but was relatively peaceful and quiet until someone pissed me off. In a few instances I swung at a kids head with my backpack, beat someone senseless with a crutch, elbowed someone in the back of the head/neck repeatedly, and once smashed a kids face into the sidewalk. The only one I regret was the sidewalk incident, but it sure was satisfying.
Now, if I need to deal with agression or something, I have my kickboxing team to take it out on.
When we were first married, my new wife pissed me off about something…god knows what.
I had my supper plate in my hands, piled high with mashed potatos, gravy, meat and veggies. I slammed the plate down on the counter so hard, it broke in half.
I was covered in mashed potatos, gravy, meat and veggies. She laughed, I laughed…the world laughed.
Then for good measure, I smeared cold cream on my vanity mirror.