A dude from work and I shared stories of our time as bored youths and what we did to pass time. He's a year younger than me (35 y/o), with a similar background.
Here's a few examples of my stupidity. If any kids are reading I dare you to top these:
The Homemade Grenade (age 12)- A got a hold of a few 1/4 sticks of dynamite that I stole fair and square from a friend. After I blew up a couple I came up with a dumbass idea to make one ultra powerful. I rubbed glue on the outside of the 1/4 stick and rolled it in a bowl of BB's. After the glue dried I had a bomb with over a 100 pieces of shrapnel adhered to the outside. I took it out in the woods, lit it, and ran behind a oak tree. When it blew, the BB's tore through all vegetation within a 40 foot radius. Leaves, tree limbs, and small plants were leveled. The tree I hid behind had been embedded with the silver spheres. This actually scared the fuck out of me and I was glad it was the last 1/4 stick I had.
Teh Milkshake Bomb (age 16)- My buddy and I were driving down a road with a 50 MPH limit, so we were doing about seventy (I was sitting shotgun). I had a McDonalds vanilla milkshake in my lap and I could see a jogger coming our way. For no reason what-so-ever I threw it out the car and nailed him in the neck (that's where the police report said he was struck). Yep, somehow, some way, someone got my buddy's license plate # and we were called to the police station. My Pop was liiiiivid (understandably, since he was a police officer in a different city), he wouldn't even say a word the entire ride down to the station. The cops succeeded in scaring the fuck out of me. They locked me in my own cell for awhile and treated me like a jackass. After all this I would like to thank the man I hit with the milkshake for not pressing charges. Worst of all my friend was completely innocent. I didn't give him any warning for the act I was going to commit. I took the rap by telling the cops the truth, but my buddy's father still didn't believe his always-in-trouble son had nothing to do with it.
HST is a bad influence (age 17)- Inspired by Hunter S. Thompson's book, Hell's Angels, I rolled a metal garbage can in front of a city bus. HST was correct, it does sound like a Volkswagen getting run over. Judging by the heavy use of brakes, the bus driver must have thought he killed a homeless person pushing a shopping cart. I could literally hear the passengers screaming. People on the block looked out the windows or ran outside. I would like to take the time to thank my parents for passing me their athletic genes that enabled me to quickly get away.
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