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It's Been a While

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Exits
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    Oblivionz

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#61

Posted 18 April 2007 - 09:46 PM Edited by Exits, 18 April 2007 - 10:07 PM.

May I request: Why you shouldn't burn bridges or Why You Don't f*ck Around With Bouncers please
And hey, if you remember me, I'm Oblivionz.
Been a while since we talked, if you call it that. Only talked to you for a minute or so once. :]
Anyway, f*ckin' great stories. First thread i've ever read all the way through. And click whenever there's a new post

Reincarnated
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#62

Posted 18 April 2007 - 10:05 PM

Great thread. I really believe that you need to experience it yourself, it builds character. Of course, aside from drunk driving, etc.

just another thug
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#63

Posted 18 April 2007 - 10:16 PM

With the whole binge drinking think, it's not totally safe as my friend had alcohol poisoning and there was an EMT at the party to save his life before we could get him to the hospital. Not cool.


btw... nice stories 'nuj, very interesting

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#64

Posted 19 April 2007 - 12:11 AM

Anuj, fellow St.Louisian. I'm coming back into town next weekend, maybe I'll see you at a club or something. Anyways, I want to hear the Beer Bottles and AK's story. Sounds intriguing.

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#65

Posted 19 April 2007 - 01:49 AM

Another great read nuj. I would like "Why you shouldn't burn bridges"

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#66

Posted 19 April 2007 - 02:19 AM

Enjoyable reads. You do seem to have a knack for writing in a style that appeals to the reader, and makes it seem more personal than "I did this, then that, then this".

Can't wait for more.

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#67

Posted 19 April 2007 - 02:21 AM

QUOTE (No Escape? @ Apr 18 2007, 19:19)
Enjoyable reads. You do seem to have a knack for writing in a style that appeals to the reader, and makes it seem more personal than "I did this, then that, then this".

Can't wait for more.

What are you trying to say, Ensbury? Don't my webjournals captivate you enough!? Don't they!? mad.gif

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#68

Posted 19 April 2007 - 06:11 AM

No story updates right now, but pictures to keep the ADHD-crowd interested.

Diamond watch:

user posted image

1ct diamond ring mounted on white gold

user posted image

Seriously, these things are my babies. First watch I've owned with diamonds in it.

The ring set me back a bit. First real bling I've ever put on my hand. We're going to have a guessing contest. First ten people get guesses. Closest to actual retail without going over wins a karma star. biggrin.gif

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#69

Posted 19 April 2007 - 06:13 AM

I will set the bar, About 5 grand. But I dont know sh*t about bling, just pretty much pretty expenive rocks. Oh anuj I hope you sort out your issues.

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#70

Posted 19 April 2007 - 07:21 AM

$3,333

That's my first thought.

Ps, love the stories as always 'nujer.

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#71

Posted 19 April 2007 - 07:56 AM

4000
nice stories, btw ph34r.gif

no, i'm not just posting for the karma ! D:

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#72

Posted 19 April 2007 - 08:23 AM

$2,400

These stories are a great read, as always.

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#73

Posted 19 April 2007 - 09:35 AM

$700 for the watch, about the same amount $500, lets say, for the ring.


Ah, whose car the watch picture was taken in. I see carbon trim.

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#74

Posted 19 April 2007 - 10:04 AM

I'm lovin' the stories smile.gif .

Oh and, $6.2k for both the watch and ring.

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#75

Posted 19 April 2007 - 11:21 AM

Uheeehhm.... Idk, $5000?

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#76

Posted 19 April 2007 - 03:03 PM

I say $3400 for both

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#77

Posted 19 April 2007 - 03:05 PM

750 for the ring?
GBP

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#78

Posted 19 April 2007 - 03:28 PM

Though your GGW night was a little more excessive, I'm very reassured by your sudden swing of disgust at it all - I was much the same on my first trip to a strip club. You start off, swayin' and a grinnin' at everyone you see, then there's the awe that surrounds you as you realise it's actually just like being in a movie. Even the lighting is the same, and the girls are as orange as ever. Then suddenly it rockets downhill; a mate pulls you over to tag in for a lapdance each, and all of a sudden you're down 40 and need to find an ATM before you get face-planted by the bouncer. Strangely, there's nothing more depressing than that moment when you get straddled by a butt-naked Lithuanian girl, and that flurry of discomfort swells up in you as you clasp the hope that you must be the youngest person in the club; and how that makes your unexpected abandonment of moral fibre that bit more justifiable. After all, it's their fault - they're adults and I'm just a kid. I'm not doing anything wrong. And as if she can read your mind, she asks you your age.

"Er, I'm 19."

"Really? I'm 18."

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#79

Posted 19 April 2007 - 04:11 PM

I'd say $7,500.

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#80

Posted 19 April 2007 - 05:31 PM

QUOTE (Superbeast. @ Apr 19 2007, 01:56)
4000
nice stories, btw ph34r.gif

no, i'm not just posting for the karma ! D:

Haha, you hit it exactly. $3700 for the ring, $400 for the watch. Enjoy your karma.

STM: It's a crazy life, no doubt. The first time out is experienced differently by each person. Personally, I can't stand strip clubs. biggrin.gif

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#81

Posted 19 April 2007 - 07:24 PM

Damn nice jewlry you've got there, Nuj. Very nice. icon14.gif

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#82

Posted 19 April 2007 - 08:30 PM

QUOTE (anuj @ Apr 19 2007, 11:31)
QUOTE (Superbeast. @ Apr 19 2007, 01:56)
4000
nice stories, btw  ph34r.gif

no, i'm not just posting for the karma ! D:

Haha, you hit it exactly. $3700 for the ring, $400 for the watch. Enjoy your karma.

STM: It's a crazy life, no doubt. The first time out is experienced differently by each person. Personally, I can't stand strip clubs. biggrin.gif

Wouldn't he be 100 over? Nice guess though.

QUOTE (Pavlov)
Ah, whose car the watch picture was taken in. I see carbon trim.


The stereo looks like a dodge. confused.gif

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#83

Posted 19 April 2007 - 09:54 PM

QUOTE (spenc938 @ Apr 19 2007, 14:30)
QUOTE (anuj @ Apr 19 2007, 11:31)
QUOTE (Superbeast. @ Apr 19 2007, 01:56)
4000
nice stories, btw  ph34r.gif

no, i'm not just posting for the karma ! D:

Haha, you hit it exactly. $3700 for the ring, $400 for the watch. Enjoy your karma.

STM: It's a crazy life, no doubt. The first time out is experienced differently by each person. Personally, I can't stand strip clubs. biggrin.gif

Wouldn't he be 100 over? Nice guess though.

QUOTE (Pavlov)
Ah, whose car the watch picture was taken in. I see carbon trim.


The stereo looks like a dodge. confused.gif

Yes, that would indeed be a 04 Neon SXT. I meant to say the ring was $3600. Just a typo.

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#84

Posted 19 April 2007 - 09:54 PM

QUOTE (anuj @ Apr 18 2007, 21:41)
As soon as that rolled out of my mouth I realized how many times I heard it myself and how many times I dismissed it, and now I'm on the other end trying to tell the kid how important it is.

It was kind of meta.


And thus, I graduate from prefix to a noun of sorts...

I always enjoy your spicy candor, anuj.

And a little something as fresh and now commonly disregarded as the novelty, honesty, endears you to me, as ever.

(All collar popping aside)

QUOTE (anuj @ Apr 17 2007, 09:56)
I don't remember how long I stood there, asking myself if I could bring myself to man up and watch girls lez out some more. In the end, I politely declined. I was already disappointed in my generation. I didn't want to see any more trades of dignity for a cotton t-shirt.


In agreeance with STM on this one, what seems so wonderfully cinematic & sexyful at 1st when stepping into these situations where women shed their clothing for us (or worse) not on the television screen or the PC monitor but quite literally in front of us in 3-D (minus the wacky glasses), leads us to realize in that moment, in all fairness, "no" you did not come to this debaucherous place to find your wife but what you have found is someone's little sister, stupid niece, neglective mother or wayward daughter engaging in acts that would make someone, somewhere (who actually cares for them), less than happy or proud.

The resulting feeling is awkward at best, a few more drinks and maybe you put that pesky little fellow, conscience away for the evening, so you can enjoy yourself.

After all, it isn't you who made them behave in this way, is it? And yet we see no, "Guys Gone Wild" videos, aired over and over at the late infommercial hours wherein young college guys drop their pants randomly for the camera or some cheap beads and are eventually ushered off into odd hotel rooms during spring break to give one another felatio.

Penis doesn't sell in America.

Boobs & Sudo-Lesbianism Do.

So the ladies know what's expected of them, it just takes a little social lubricant and some cheap party favors, to make a good girl "go wild" these days.

Bless'em All, for such an over-whelming lack of self-esteem.


Now one good story deserves another, I suppose...

Anything recent (adulthood) would be fairly grim I'm afraid, as a director for a major drug and alcohol rehab program west of Dallas I see all the "party kids" well after the fact (years) and the end result is less than amusing, I'm afraid. But in my own stupidities and chemical dalliances a few solid nuggets of mirth could be sifted, if for nothing else, I survived and moved on to a safer and more mundane life-style, so where's the harm, eh..?


The Dorrito Bush

We'd been binging at Mark's house steadily for the last several weeks, being that everyone had graduated highschool and were nestled into the local colleges, schedules were free. A few of us moved out, a few stayed at home with the parents. I had moved out with my g/f, Beverly, into a small efficency apartment and was pretty much free to roam and try a number of things, chemically at the late hours I had never dared tried at my familes house.

My best friend, Noah was the latest to be failed by the drinking and debauchery, doing his best to make his way to the front door before pukeing his guts out onto the bush just left of the front door. The next day would reveal something truly unique and awful, a hybrid of sorts. It seems, Noah had had his fill of the tasty snack chip known as Dorritos before chasing them down with a ungodly amount of Smirnoff. Thus in the light of day a bush would be revealed with sinewey orange undigested bits hanging garishly off the leaves of the shrubery.

Thus The Dorrito Bush, was born.

Which leads us into...

Rise & Shine...

but this is a story for another time...

(like the next post or some'junk)

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#85

Posted 23 April 2007 - 10:57 AM

C'mon 'nuj, tell us more stories! I've always been so admiring of you and your manly ways.

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#86

Posted 23 April 2007 - 11:18 PM

So how about "Police and the unwritten rules"? That sounds like a good one...
My cousin's in the same business you're in, 'cept he also owns a valet service... guy never went to college, is now 25 and drives a brand new BMW... He also has some amount of "seedy" ties; the club he works for is a known mob hangout.

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#87

Posted 24 April 2007 - 01:20 AM

Damn, Nuj. What happened to the stories?

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#88

Posted 24 April 2007 - 01:22 AM

I'm on the edge of my seat...


start typing!

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#89

Posted 24 April 2007 - 02:00 AM

I've been so pissed off over the past few days, but last night made up for it. I'd like to type up what happened Saturday so you can understand.

My motorcycle does not have a fuel gauge.

The night started off normally. I hit up Dantes because a couple of Indian friends of mine were throwing a party down there. I get to the spot, pull into a parking spot, and walk towards the entrance.

"Hey AJ! I didn't know you ride a bike! PULL THAT sh*t UP HERE!"

So I pull the bike up to the front door. I will tell you that no matter how much you want to talk about how far humans have come as a race, and how much you want to elucidate on how women are smart, independent women who love to tell you how you're replaceable, women love shiny stuff.

Of course, they're the type of women I'd never touch with a random GTAF member's dick, but I digress. So to all you young guys who want to impress random hoes, just drop $5k on a motorcycle and learn to ride it. You'll have a whore on your side in no time.

After an hour or so of talking to random girls, I pull out and head to the Oz. I get there and one of my ex-girlfriends is there. She's there with a friend, so I walk up and say hi to both of them. I just wanted to be polite and not be some sort of bitter bastard just because my ex broke my heart some time ago.

At this point, I hadn't slept in 2 days. My head is pounding. I haven't drank at all because I'm on my motorcycle. The music is breaking my brain, and I decide I'm not feeling this club at all tonight. So I leave.

I get onto the highway, and head back into Missouri. Not two miles in, I start losing power in the bike. I twist the throttle and try to figure out real quick what's wrong. No response from the throttle, so I realize I'm out of gas and I'm not going to make it 1000 feet before I am stopped. I reach down and turn the fuel petcock to RESERVE, but realize that its already in that position.

I am a dumbass.

I break down. I park my bike in a 2.5 feet wide strip between 70mph traffic and an entrance ramp to the highway. I start thinking of people to call, and the first person that comes to mind is the ex. She's got a car, she's not even three miles away, and she's awake, in the club. I call her.

She says she's coming, and to wait for her.

Two minutes pass, and my phone goes off.

"Sorry, I can't leave. I'm getting the feeling that you're just jealous I'm having a good time and you want to get me out of the club. I'm not coming to pick you up because you really need to just let me have a good time."

I make up four or five curse words. I pick up a stone that's on the highway and throw it straight down 200 feet to the street level. I contemplate stepping into traffic just to teach that bitch a lesson before realizing that wouldn't make any sense.

I can't think of anything else to do. I walk away from my bike, stand up, and just start yelling as loud as possible. I don't give a f*ck about anything at this point, because I'm so pissed that the girl I did so much for wouldn't help me when I'm stranded on the highway. There was nothing so satisfying as standing on the ledge of a highway, 200 feet above the street and traffic below me, and yelling so loud that I can't think anymore. No thoughts. No logic. No sense. Just pure rage, pure emotion, bellowing out of me and scaring the almighty f*ck out of everyone below. I was pretty sure at this point that I was going to get called in as a suicide threat.

I calmly walk back to my bike, sit down, and dial the police non-emergency number. They say they'll dispatch a car.

Walking back to the bike, I realize something.

"Fuck these hoes."

I keep repeating this to myself. "Fuck these hoes. Fuck these fucking hoes."

I'm starting to have an emotional epiphany when I see red flashing lights.

"STOP RIGHT THERE! POLICE!"

I turn my head slightly to see a cop behind me, holding a flashlight and a gun.

"ARE YOU THE ONE WHO WAS THREATENING TO JUMP?!" He yells at me. Despite my use of a question mark, his tone suggested that he didn't care whether or not I was.

"Nah, man. That guy left. He was f*cking nuts. I'm the guy whose motorcycle broke down."

He holsters his sidearm and asks where the guy went. I told him that last I saw him, he took off his pants and was running down the entrance ramp with his trousers around his head. I can only imagine how long the cops were looking for a man with my description with pants around his head screaming at traffic. I ask if I can get a ride to the closest service station.

He says sure, and I get in the back seat. We drive 1.5-2 miles to the closest gas station and he tells me to get out.

"I'll be right back." I tell him, and grab my helmet from the back seat.

Apparently, this guy was not a very good listener because as soon as I close the door he drives off. f*cking police, I swear to God they're useless as f*ck after the sun goes down. I'm now stuck at a service station whose "system is down", 2 miles from where I was stranded, in an area that I am not familiar with, in an area where my skin color is about as rare as a black albino Jew.

I walk up to the door. It's locked. Damn. I pound on the door until the Afghani man answers it.

"No gas. System down."

"Motherf*cker, do you see my motorcycle here? I hate to be rude, but if I don't get gas I'm going to get all three of you f*ckers deported. I just want to go home and get some sleep, and God is kicking me in the balls at every goddamn opportunity. So you can give me some gas, or you can call home and tell them you'll see them real soon."

This is paraphrased of course, but it's seriously the meanest thing I've ever said to someone who I had no personal problem with.

He gets me a gas canister and I pay for it along with $2.00 gas. I still don't have a ride back to the highway, so I start humping it. I'm tired as f*ck at this point. I don't want to walk two miles. I've got no choice, though.

On the walk back, I run into a white guy sitting on the curb. It's apparent that he's drunk as a motherf*cker.

"Hey dude, you got a ride?" I yell to him.

"Yeah man, I think my friends are coming to pick me up."

I ask him if I can bum a ride, and he says okay. We sit down and start shooting the sh*t for a few minutes. He gets a phone call. When the call ends, his face turns down and he looks at me.

"They're not coming."

FFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKK

At this exact time, a taxi comes through. I whistle for it, and the guy runs after it. It stops, and we both run after it.

At this point, I realize I have no money. At all. Zero cents. I ask the guy if he can cover me. He tells me it's no problem. The taxi drops me at the entrance to the highway, and I give the guy my business card.

"You give me a call anytime you want, man. I owe you more than a couple of drinks."

I climb up the embankment. I gas up the bike, and it still doesn't start. I shake it to get some gas into the lines. I remember that I paid for $2 gas. Not even a gallon at $2.80 a gallon. This much gas will barely get me to the next exit, let alone home. I get to the next service station, gas up, and go home.

First thing I do is call my ex.

"There's very few things in this world that are more messed up than what you did. I wouldn't do that to my worst enemy, much less the guy who took care of you when you were sick and held you when you cried. Yeah, I know I did some bad things but I never even approached the level of f*cked up that you crossed tonight. I hate you. I hate you. I haven't said that in so long, and yet it feels so good.

I f*cking hate you. Next time you see me, walk away or it won't end well."

Funny thing is, everyone I tell about it tells me I should've called them because they'd have dropped everything they were doing to come pick me up. In retrospect, I suppose I didn't call anyone because I was so pissed, but calling just one person was probably a dumb idea.

I learned something, though. Life is complicated. Life is funny. One day you'll mean everything to someone, and the next they won't leave the club to pick you up. The person who could possibly save your life might not even know you.

And that scares the living hell out of me.

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#90

Posted 24 April 2007 - 02:23 AM

What a f*cking bitch... Thats unbelievable how f*cked up that is.




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