Pure Fury
A friend's dad once stormed up to me and threatened to "punch your stupid face in" because I pointed a camera at him. I was 11. Have you ever done something innocent or made a harmless joke that ended in threats to your person? Tell us about it.
Thanks to Skullfunkerry for the suggestion
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 12:28)
A friend's dad once stormed up to me and threatened to "punch your stupid face in" because I pointed a camera at him. I was 11. Have you ever done something innocent or made a harmless joke that ended in threats to your person? Tell us about it.
Thanks to Skullfunkerry for the suggestion
( , Thu 26 Sep 2013, 12:28)
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Kerby
I grew up on a cul-de-sac, approximately forty houses of varying ages and style and about fifteen other children around my age. The parents of other children were happy for us to play on the street, and cars seldom disturbed our frolicking.
Boys, of course, all shared the common obsession of football and football related games. Most of us had a ball that had become scuffed by the cheap gravel stuck into tar combination that the council decided to coat the lesser used roads with, which left the plastic panels hanging off, gouged and likely to slice through any flesh that it came in contact with, or damage the paintwork of any car that it happened to hit at pace.
One summer afternoon, when I was eleven, we decided to play Kerby. For those of you unfamiliar with the game, I can't remember the precise rules, so I apologise, but the ultimate aim was to kick the ball from the opposite pavement so that it ricocheted back off of the kerb, allowing you to catch it. I think a points based system was used to keep track of who was winning or losing.
Anyway, enough background.
On one fateful day, I kept missing and consequently losing. This made me frustrated and inevitably my frustration led to anger, anger led to hate, and hate led to the dark side. I kicked the ball as hard as I could. The ball flew into the edge of the pavement, hit the sweet spot that in turn caused it to ricochet directly into my face, leaving me with a slightly wonky bloody nose and a fairly impressive cut under my eye.
In retrospect, it was a fucking stupid game.
( , Tue 1 Oct 2013, 16:43, 2 replies)
I grew up on a cul-de-sac, approximately forty houses of varying ages and style and about fifteen other children around my age. The parents of other children were happy for us to play on the street, and cars seldom disturbed our frolicking.
Boys, of course, all shared the common obsession of football and football related games. Most of us had a ball that had become scuffed by the cheap gravel stuck into tar combination that the council decided to coat the lesser used roads with, which left the plastic panels hanging off, gouged and likely to slice through any flesh that it came in contact with, or damage the paintwork of any car that it happened to hit at pace.
One summer afternoon, when I was eleven, we decided to play Kerby. For those of you unfamiliar with the game, I can't remember the precise rules, so I apologise, but the ultimate aim was to kick the ball from the opposite pavement so that it ricocheted back off of the kerb, allowing you to catch it. I think a points based system was used to keep track of who was winning or losing.
Anyway, enough background.
On one fateful day, I kept missing and consequently losing. This made me frustrated and inevitably my frustration led to anger, anger led to hate, and hate led to the dark side. I kicked the ball as hard as I could. The ball flew into the edge of the pavement, hit the sweet spot that in turn caused it to ricochet directly into my face, leaving me with a slightly wonky bloody nose and a fairly impressive cut under my eye.
In retrospect, it was a fucking stupid game.
( , Tue 1 Oct 2013, 16:43, 2 replies)
Christ, I remember playing that.
We used to throw it, though. If it bounced back, you could stand in the middle of the road and get an extra point for each one you'd get to bounce back.
( , Tue 1 Oct 2013, 17:02, closed)
We used to throw it, though. If it bounced back, you could stand in the middle of the road and get an extra point for each one you'd get to bounce back.
( , Tue 1 Oct 2013, 17:02, closed)
Aye, that's the one
Truly the sport of kings. Much better than the one where you lined up against a wall and let your mates throw tennis balls at you. Kids are savage bastards.
( , Wed 2 Oct 2013, 10:16, closed)
Truly the sport of kings. Much better than the one where you lined up against a wall and let your mates throw tennis balls at you. Kids are savage bastards.
( , Wed 2 Oct 2013, 10:16, closed)
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