Memories of a stupid kid stories...

[CSW]

Over in the meme thread we've swerved, and have been discussing the stupid things that we did as kids, and survived.

Like building forts.
"Borrowing" shovels and digging tremendous holes in the woods.
"Borrowing" plywood from construction sites to use as the roof sections, and piling all the dirt from the hole on top of the plywood.
Who knew about bracing, support and such.....
What we did find out is, how much dirt, and how fast we could dig to get out friends from the collapse.

Or, as discussed, bikes and ramps.
We were all Evil Knevil. Bumps, bruises and breaks.

Let's hear some stories...

[blues]

Tree houses
Ropes suspended from trees to swing on like Tarzan (until an eventual oops!)
Refrigerator box forts
Scooters made from soda crates, 2x4's and old skates
Rock and bottle wars with the kids around the block (water balloons were too tame, I guess)
Jumping out of the windows on construction sites (until landing on a nail that went through my foot)

These jump to mind immediately...there are way more.

[CSW]

Playing war in foundation digs, then taking the fiberglass concrete tubs, putting them lashed together into the Hackensack River, and rolling with the tides out to Secaucus, to the mouth of the NY harbor.....
[parents, not amused]

[entropy]

Building go-carts out of fruit crates from the grocery store, taking them to the hill to test drive. Steering system consisted of clothesline nailed into a piece of lumber used as an “axle” support.... No issues there.

Estes rocket engines used to make a bazooka.

“Skitching” behind cars in winter.

Throwing knives ordered out of the back of Boy’s Life magazine. (any number of adventures with these)

Homemade SCUBA gear made from coffee cans and garden hose.



I got a whole lot more. Sometimes I wonder why I’m still here.

[okie john]

Pre-driver's license:

• Jousting on bicycles with trash can lids for shields.
• Pre-BMX jumping stuff on bikes.
• Making smoke bombs with saltpeter and sugar.
• Chasing cats with a couple of terriers and a Wrist Rocket. (Apologies to current cat owners.)
• Traversing several blocks underneath northwest Oklahoma City through dry sewer pipes.
• Skitching, definitely.
• Dirt-clod wars.
• Wandering through residential construction sites when the workers were gone.
• Heavily diluting the hand soap in the church men's room with urine because I hated Catholic school.

I should probably research statutes of limitations before I go too deep on post-driver's license hijinks.


Okie John

[Clusterfrack]

Here are some from the Youthful Transgressions thread:

Shot a hobo with a pachinko ball from a wrist rocket because we thought he was dead.

Skateboarded on my butt down the steepest streets in San Francisco, while passing cars and busses on the wrong side of the road.

Fired marbles out of a homemade cannon, crafted from steel pipe.

Threw firecrackers into a Rajneesh cult temple and got chased by angry cultists.

Got in a fight in front of the Vice Principal, but fortunately other kids started fighting and distracted him.

Had an airgun war with a grumpy old guy who lived near my friend.

[rd62]

Oh, absolutely!

My wife is only just beginning to realize what she may be in for with boys.

Bb Gun Wars

Shooting at street lights and UPS trucks with same

Bottle rocket wars

BMX and Skateboard ramps, quarter, and half pipes sans helmets or pads at all

Homemade bombs made from the powder and primers from shotgun shells

And on and on...

[CSW]

Burning, or melting anything we could with a magnifying glass... Including caps, and firecrackers.

[entropy]

Didn’t know this was open to “post drivers license”.

This too I remember like yesterday...

Mid 70s. West burbs of Chicago. My buddy and I are driving home from a party in my car. 3-4 blocks from our houses. We had each had maybe a beer or two, (at the very most) and the remainder of the case was in the backseat as we were going fishing the next morning. (The beer ironically enough, was purchased at a tavern literally RIGHT NEXT DOOR TO THE POLICE STATION from a guy that worked the place on weekends.) I digress... Anyhow while in a deep discussion concerning Lisa Willinger’s cutoff blue Jean shorts, while listening to a John Prine 8-track, I miss a stop sign. Mind you, this stop sign had been there my entire childhood. Lisa’s jeans were indeed that good. Unseen to us in the throws of our conversation, one of the towns Finest was on the perpendicular street. Red lights ensued. He walks up and immediately sees the beer. Doesn’t ask us if we had been drinking, but asked us where we both lived. Tells both of us to get out of the car. Makes us I open each remaining can of Old Milwaukee and dump contents in the grass. Tells us to put the cans in my trunk. Tells my buddy to walk home (we were about a block from his house when he pulled us over.). Tells me he never wants to stop me again. I agree enthusiastically and most politely. Tells me to get back in the car and drive the 2 1/2 blocks to my house. He will be following me. I do as told. He follows me as he said and pulls to the curb about 3 doors down from my house as I pull in the drive. I get out of the car, walk in the house, and spend the next three days wondering if he’s going to “stop over”. He never does. I never have booze in a car again.

Damn. Those jeans were sweet.

[Paul D]

Ah BB gun wars. When I violated the 3 pump maximum rule and when other kids complained, my response:

https://www.getyarn.io/yarn-clip/ec1...#26FuVOfs.copy