This is awesome. In summary, a four year old broke out of his house, stole some beer, broke into other houses, stole presents, and was apprehended while walking down the street, drinking beer, and wearing a little girl's dress. Daddy is in jail. Mommy is a fat 21 year old. Focus: Everybody does something trashy every now and then. What's your trashiest moment? Does it top a drunken, cross dressing, thieving toddler?
Little Johnny is coming along nicely. Focus: Trashiest moment for me was watching the ex dump out black plastic bags containing all my clothes into the front yard of my friends place, where I was staying. Classy banjo moment.
Beer and cheerios is a lot trashier. Mostly because you can call the concoction "beerios". I've had me some beerios no less than 5 times in my life.
You think that's trashy? My residence replaced all of its fruit loops and cheerios with generic cereal. I had to drink beer with generic fucking cereal. Christ, did I feel dirty after. I mean, your parents pay for an Ivy League education, you expect to get something worthwhile in return, you know?
They should probably check his body for tattoos. I always knew TV was bad for you. Spoiler Focus: My trashiest moment would have to be eating noodles and drinking cheap wine for breakfast, since I didn't have anything else and I "wanted to get a buzz going for my morning lecture". Surprisingly, I fell asleep during that one.
When I was a kid, my best friends older brother had quite a valuable collection of Starwars, Superman and The Phantom collectibles. My best friend and I were convinced that we could be fuck you rich, if we could just get in early on the next big collectors craze and stock up. We'd hold onto the shit in mint condition and when the prices went way up - we'd sell and buy ourselves an island. So we went out and found the next big collectors craze and started early. Unfortunately, we were 10 - so had basically no money. So we decided to start stealing stuff for our collections. I stole and I stole. I shop lifted more then a pallet worth of collectible goods. Mostly trading cards. I had a dozen complete sets of every trading card released. To memorialize Jurassic park. I had the comic books. I had the dinosaurs in their eggs. I could swim scrooge McDuck style through my pristine, immaculate collection of every piece of Jurassic park collector shit that would fit in a 10 year old's pockets. I tossed most of it out six months later and gave up all hope 2 years later when I realized that nobody would ever give a shit about Jurassic park collectibles. At my most classy as an adult, I regularly engaged in a game called Wheel of Goon - where each participant in the game brings a cask of shit wine (typically Goon brand swill) to a party, takes the shiny gutter pillow from the cask, pegs it by one corner to a rotary washing line and stands underneath. The wheel of goon is spun and everyone chants 'Come on Passion Pop, Come on Passion Pop!' (the one marginally drinkable flavor of Goon) and then drinks from whichever bag is closest when the wheels stops spinning. Everybody has to keep drinking until somebody else stops. The only real winners are the ones who don't play.
I blacked out and woke up with a kid's Razor scooter. Wouldn't be all that bad, except I still have it. Kickflip motherfucka.
A girlfriend cheated on me, so I wrote the word "NEXT" and an arrow pointing at the door on her front lawn at night with about 5 bottles of motor oil. A week or so later, it magically appeared like one of those 1980's era markers that you got in the cereal box.
I'll raise you (not me though): When my sister was in high school, an ex-boyfriend wrote the word "SLUT" in weed killer in our front lawn. He used so much that my parents eventually had to dig up all the surrounding dirt after several failed attempts at planting new grass (all of which died in the same pattern).
I'll raise both of you: A kid from my high school wrote "FUCK YOU [PRINCIPAL'S NAME] on our principal's lawn with Miracle Grow. He had to mow that part of his lawn every other day or the insult would reappear. Not like it really mattered, since the words were a slightly darker green than the rest of the lawn, so you could see it anyway. Pretty sure it lasted a good year before it faded out.
My first time having J.D. (now known as JizzoftheDevil) had two such events*, we were 16 (just turned) and I was hammered off of 6 or 7 shots. We were going from one place to another and were stumbling through a neighborhood park when one of the girls starts throwing up uncontrollably, then taking a sip of her water bottle and then offering my friend ST a blowjob. He was a virgin at the time but he still said no. I wasn't so lucky, I passed out in my friend's basement with a puke-filled Stratego box on my lap. Classy board game. *The other of which will be a thread of its own tomorrow.
Besides living in Mississippi and randomly firing guns off my front porch for shits and giggles, I've got a few. ( It rather surprises me that at one point in time I was a productive member of society.) When I was in my late teens one of my buddies went to prison for breaking into a beer warehouse. I was pissed off that I was left out this little adventure and besides that I was supposed to be the crazy one, so I spent a couple of years proving I was fucking bat shit insane. I stole a car from off a dealers lot in front of a restaurant full of witnesses . (Extra bonus redneck points...it was a Camaro) . Some girl invited us to her house after we were done being drunken monkeys playing in a bar. It wasn't actually her house, it was her parents and they were out of town. I woke up the next morning to some horrified girl screaming "Why are there boots in the toilet?" followed shortly by "Why is there a stolen car in the garage?" Well fuck, don't invite the band home sweetheart. Shit's going to happen, sometimes very unexpected shit especially if we get bored. That's a life lesson right there.
- We avoided the Gold Rush in Tampa for a while because our buddy's sister worked there and we didn't want him to find out and cause a big scene, though we were sure to get at least one lap dance. - I have been offered a threesome from a woman and her husband. She had a rose tattoo over her tittie and busted teeth. Her husband's ponytail went to the crack of his ass. - I once rode through a very small town in a buddy's dirt track race car at 4 in the morning. We spun doughnuts in a girl's lawn when my buddy thought she was cheating when her car wasn't in her driveway. Turns out her car was parked in the back yard. - The police confiscated a modified potato gun that was made out of welded tubular steel and propelled by pure oxygen, and hydrogen*. The cannon ball was a full beer can. The cops asked us to shoot one more before they took it away. - A very close friend of mine shot a hog and tied it to the roof of his Jeep Cherokee. Somehow it fell off and wound up being tied by one leg to the jeep with about 20 feet of rope. Rather than stop, Mush opted to try and sling it off somewhere. He slung it around and it began to leave a giant blood trail everywhere. The neighbors thought he was dragging a dog or a person. The police were involved, as the hog and rope took out several mailboxes and various shrubbery. - Another buddy came-to in a boat storage lot after several hours of blackout drunk to find that he was only wearing his sleeveless Lynyrd Skynyrd T Shirt and a condom. The woman he fucked referred to herself as Chyna, and fingered a passed-out friend's asshole the night before. She used fish frying grease for lube. The next thing he remembers is his mother waking him up and asking why he ripped the door off of their oven. His mother's house is about 30 miles from Chyna and her asshole fingering. * I believe. They wouldn't let me near the explosive gasses
Years ago a friend of mine invited me to a Christmas party that was taking place at Sugarloaf Mt up in ME. It was supposed to be a pretty big deal with something close to 100 members of his extended family and their friends. The next day everyone went skiing and that sounded good to me. I asked all the prerequisite questions such as dress code, location, etc and he made it sound like it was a super casual affair. We drive the four hours up to Sugarloaf and when we get to the lodge that it's taking place at I see all these women in fancy dresses and guys in suits going into the place. We of course had already hit four(ish) bars on the way up and were dressed for winter travel wearing Carhartt pants, sweatshirts, hiking boots, and winter hats. My idiot friend admitted he hadn't been to the party since he was a kid and had forgotten that everyone got dressed up. Since we were already half in the bag we decided to go in anyway. He was drunker than I was and at least knew people at the party. I was the severely under dressed guy pounding drinks like a homeless person who finds a free buffet and wants to pack away as much food as possible before they're thrown out.
Senior week of college (the week preceding commencement), I told the dean of students to go douche with a broken beer bottle. She wasn't amused. Less so when I offered to assist. Still managed to walk across the stage on Sunday and get the sheepskin.
A few years ago, my family attended my cousin's wedding. The wedding was held in a clubhouse that was in front of a trailer park where several of my family members lived. I was maybe 14 or 15 at the time and had just realized the joys of alcohol. I was drunk off my ass and went outside where most of the guys in my family were hanging out. The groom started calling my dad a pussy, which didn't go over so well. My dad walked calmly over to me, handed me his beer and cigarettes then proceeded to beat the ever-loving shit out of the groom. Eventually, my uncles pulled him off, but then some of the groom's family came out to see what was going on and suddenly, it was a full blown brawl. Finally, someone called the cops, prompting various members of my family to run into the trailer park to hide. After the cops left, my then 17 year old brother and I had to search the trailer park to find my dad, who'd crawled into someone's shed and passed out. When he woke up the next day, he didn't remember a goddamn thing and we haven't spoken to that side of the family since. I wish I could say that that's the worst moment in our family history, but the truth is we live and breathe white trash, so it's just the tip of the iceberg.
Raise your hand if you have ever had to go into work with your face fucked up because the stripper you knocked up and married decided that hitting was better than actually talking about any of your marital problems. *BigPerson raises his hand* Raise your hand if you have an aunt that has fucked both your father, and your ex step father. *BigPerson raises his hand* Raise your hand if your mother has six children from four different men. *BigPerson raises his hand* I'm not trashy damnit! I'm just class impared!
The summer between my junior and senior year of high school I worked as a lifeguard for the local park district. The job was ideal. The work was undemanding and I got to look at hot girls all day. But one day I got pissed off for one reason or another and I decided to bring the issue to my boss' attention. In keeping with the great American past time, we worked under a three strikes policy. As it turned out, I already had three strikes that I was only marginally aware of. Basically, my plan totally back fired and I looked like an idiot. But by the the grace of my boss, I was given I second chance. Not even two days later, I went out drinking all night and I woke up two hours after I was already supposed to have been at work. In the process, I hooked-up with a girl who I presume to be a vampire or an avid twilight fan because the next day the entire length of my neck and shoulders was covered in dark hickies. It looked bad, like my dad seriously thought I had hooked up with another man. Instead of deciding to call off of work, I came in to work anyway. Oh yea, and did I mention that I was going in to teach swimming lessons to children?