# win a knife! not really, but you can use it on one. Time for a Giveaway



## sachem allison (May 10, 2012)

with all the things that have been going on in my personal life and all the wonderful support I have been getting from you all. I felt it was time to do a give away. I would like to thank Dave and all the moderators for doing the best job they can, working with diminished capacities and all. I would like to thank the diminished capacities IE: the Knife Knuts for all your contributions, I learn a lot and many of your questions force me to use my brain and try to remember the things I used to know, so thanks. 
So, here it is. I want stories, I don't care what it's about, It can be funny, sad, happy, tawdry, no gushy stuff, it just has to be interesting. if you do tawdry pictures are always welcome. In a weeks time, I will pick the one I like the best and you will get the prize. That's it.

I know that a lot of you do not get the opportunity to use or possess exotic or rare items, either because they are too expensive or you never thought of it or a million other reasons, well here is an opportunity have something to work with or have made into something cool and unique. I am giving away one small Hippo Ivory tooth. it can be used to inlay something, make a ferrule, small set of scales or a hidden tang knife handle. The tooth is 7 1/2 in long and 1 in in diameter, it has a weird tip, I don't know what the little guy was eating. here are some pics. The giveaway will end on 5/16 at midnight. I want good stories, You don't have to be good writers, just write likje you speak and it will be fine. I personally suck at writing. have fun dragging up those memories. fiction, non fiction whatever is fine. no gushy!


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## sachem allison (May 10, 2012)

really? nobody wants it? you guys are disappointing me.:eyebrow:


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## Deckhand (May 10, 2012)

After the killer whale tooth I had wanted my whole life to wear around my neck. Feel I am overpaid. I can add stories if you want.


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## Deckhand (May 10, 2012)

I was on Andros in the Bahamas spearfishing with a Hawaiian sling that had a button for release. I had a good spear tip on it. I was trying to get a grouper under a coral head in 20ft of water. I had speared many fish successfully. Still don't know what the deal was. Maybe tough skin as it was a big grouper. The spear bounced of the grouper a couple times this put some blood in the water. I looked over and saw a big shadow in the distance on the bottom. I then saw it was a tiger shark between 12-15ft. I shot up to the surface and was jumping in the boat. My buddy was originally going to jump in to help corner the fish then he saw the look in my eyes and stopped. I jumped in the boat and the tiger shark came up the 20ft and banged the side of the boat.


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## Deckhand (May 10, 2012)

I was on a Kawasaki ninja doing 110 m.p.h. on the 210fwy by Pasadena when I hit a weather groove on the freeway. It took me across three lanes and yes there were cars on the freeway. The adrenaline surge from that would have made me crash as my arms started shaking. I pushed my arms forward to lock my shoulders and elbows this let me ride without crashing until the adrenaline calmed down. Don't want to do a bunch of motorcycle stories but had many experiences with them and scars to prove it on dirt bikes. Never dropped my ninja, but used to use my digital watch and try to beat my record to work every morning. coworkers thought I was nuts sliding into my parking space and hitting my watch.


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## Eamon Burke (May 10, 2012)

I like it, but I wouldn't use it. I'd just look at it, so I'm passing.


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## Lefty (May 10, 2012)

Alright, I'd love this piece, so I'll go ahead.

I was out to dinner with my wife, my bestfriend, his wife and another frien of ours. We went to a nice "Asian inspired" restaurant, in a very nice part of town. We ordered various curries, Thai dishes and multiple Tiger beers. The food was fantastic, and the beer was...well, beer.
At the end of the meal, I stood up to quickly use the washroom (rest room to most of you). As I stood up, I looked out the window that our table was next to. Eerily peering in was a man dressed in a tweed coat, one of those earflapped winter hats that I always associate with John Candy, and some relatively stylish glasses. For one reason or another, I panicked and let out the manliest of all schoolgirl yelps. Everyone jumped, turned around to see what had spooked me and did the same, as this man peered in, smiling and waving at us. A good laugh was had by all....
After we paid for the meal, we were heading to the car and the same old man was hovering around our vehicles. He stopped my wife and asked, "Excuse me, ma'am, are you going to eat that?", while pointing at the take out container in her hand. As we tend to do, she said, "No, but I hope you like spicy food". He thanked us as she handed him the box. He then stopped my friend and asked her the same question. Although it seemed a tad pushy, we all just handed hi our leftover food, feeling that maybe we had done a bit of good.
We then went to our friends's house and continued with our drinking and eating.

Two days later, my wife and I went to the same area of town an while walkin from one store to another, we noticed the man from two days before. He saw us and came up to us to say hello, and thank us...or so we thought. He said he recognized us from the night I just described, and while the food was delicious, it had given him an "unrelenting bout of diarrhea", which caused him to ruin his only good pair of pants. 

That was very likely the worst I have ever felt for helping out a person in need. 

PS. This is actually a true story. Haha


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## sachem allison (May 10, 2012)

BurkeCutlery said:


> I like it, but I wouldn't use it. I'd just look at it, so I'm passing.



go for it, looking at it is perfectly fine.


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## oivind_dahle (May 10, 2012)

Here goes.

As some of you know I work as a business advisor and last couple of years Ive been working with some high profiled persons around the globe, being their personal advisor regarding financial questions. One day I sat in my office and Donald called me and asked me to come over for a round of golf with him and Tiger. After having a good 18 hole set, we was joined up by Warren. The man is a living corpse, but hell he makes a hell of a Bloody Mary. So we knocked down a couple of drinks when Tiger started to wiping about his x. By this time Warren was asleep, so we headed back to fifth to Donalds tower in the chopper. Tiger kept wining all the way, so when we got in the limo we decided to drop Warren and Tiger off. Donald and I ended up in bar in the meatpacking district called the Bagatelle. Nice bar, and started to party really heard and as usual Donald wanted me to wing him. After getting some rejections (the man don't look that good) we ended up in a pretty good company. Headed over to "the box" with our new friends, and I still needed to wing Donald. While getting past the line at "the box", Hugh suddenly called and asked if we needed company. Well, the man is after all a legend and we accepted. That night I ended up with this insane good-looking model called "angel". Gotta love that night.

I can't post pics as you will go to the media, sorry.


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## Deckhand (May 10, 2012)

I used to play nine ball, eight ball, etc. with guys like Keith McCready(color of money),Morro Paez,little Al Romero,etc. I was in a pool hall called Mr.Q's at that time. An Asian gang was inside playing pool. A rival gang drove up and started getting chains(literally), knives, tire irons etc. and was coming to the door. Looked like the Warriors come out and play scene. I stood in the door, blocked it and stopped them. I told them I could care less if they all wanted to go down to the park down the street and kill each other, but not in my livingroom. They left. More than one time people were shot there. I was there once for that type of unnecessary excitement. Preferred Hard Times in Bellflower. Better players and less drama.


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## Deckhand (May 10, 2012)

I was with Todd Bridges from Different Strokes at Jerry's Famous Deli in Studio City. Some girls ran up wanting autographs, etc. they said, "Are you Todd Bridges?" He looked over at me and said, "Richard,do I look like Todd Bridges?" I said, "Wow, you know what, you do look kind of like Todd Bridges, that's pretty cool." The girls walked away perplexed.:biggrin:


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## knyfeknerd (May 10, 2012)

Niloc must be busy because he would totally be ruling this s*%$ right now. Give me till later tonight when I get off work, maybe I can share something touching.


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## sachem allison (May 10, 2012)

wow this is sad, only three guys.


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## Crothcipt (May 10, 2012)

Relax son it is only day 1 out of a week. I am choosing my story right now. You left it kinda broad scope, so it will take time.


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## apicius9 (May 10, 2012)

Just not in story-telling mood these days... Besides, I'd probably just glue some horn and nickel silver to it and stick it on a wa knife, maybe someone else has more creative ideas 

Stefan


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## knyfeknerd (May 10, 2012)

So at the old catering company I used to be the Exec Chef at..........................
.........we do a very large horse racing(rhymes with people chase) event each year. Probably about 5000 people we feed for the day. Prepping for the event will run you beyond ragged. I have to load a semi(Sysco) trailer with all the prepped food for the day. Organizing this kind of thing can be mind-numbing. I leave work that night around 11pm.
I've got to be out to the event by 3am to start breakfast. It's dark. This place is way out in the boonies so no lights anywhere. I've gotta piss. Like I drank a pot of coffee in an hour to wake up and I gotta piss. Did I mention that I had to piss???
Thank the Gods for the awesome Port-A-Potty!!!
Oh sweet relief!!! 
In the dark I did not realize that the lid was down. I am covered in warm urine before I knew what was happening, I mean my chef pants are f*$#ing soaked! I've got a 13+ hour day ahead of me and I'm going to smell of piss all day, sweet.
I've alerted everyone to my situation and have no solution as nudity is not acceptable. 
Time to unload the semi-trailer. In the trip from the kitchen to the horse track some things fell over and got ruined. Also, the partition that seperates the freezer from the cooler section has popped open too. EVERYTHING IS FROZEN!!! Salad greens, eggs, deli meat, Cheese, etc. Anything, everything is frozen rock solid. 
Some DBag has the balls to tell me to relax. That freaking out won't help anything-yeah but me strangling you will make me feel better!!!
Hey, you aren't covered in piss with 100% of your food ruined!
...............long story short, the thankfully bright sun thawed my food out beautifully that day. Only minimal loss to some greens,etc. However I did still smell of piss all day. So F-ing gross. When you're 2 hours away from fresh pants, what can you do? Making S*%# happen is what we do, no matter the situation-no excuses or explanations! 
These rich people have got to eat!!!
As for the DBag that told me to chill.................
....that's a story for another day.


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## sachem allison (May 11, 2012)

Crothcipt said:


> Relax son it is only day 1 out of a week. I am choosing my story right now. You left it kinda broad scope, so it will take time.



just bored and the new drugs are making me antsy and irritable. Don't pay any attention to me.lol


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## Deckhand (May 11, 2012)

A walk on a beach. I went for a walk at Carpenteria state beach with my then girlfriend. As we were walking you go around little rock outcrops between coves. As we went into the next cove a beautiful woman was laying top up completely naked. I had to act like I had blinders on so I wouldn't get punched. As we went another cove or two I had to pee. There aren't any restrooms there. I had just gotten a good stream going when a cute elderly couple walked around the corner right where I was. The man looked over and said, " hey, when ya gotta go ya gotta go."


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## knyfeknerd (May 11, 2012)

Continuation........of the DBag guy story. Let's call him Dick for short. That is seriously a shortening of his name, not a pun. New hire, in the "probationary period". So for weeks before the "people chase" event, this guy was really sucking. I knew he wasn't going to make it, but I needed some warm bodies for the big event. I asked him to make marinara sauce which he made his mirepoix-a whole unpeeled carrot thrown in the mix. I asked him what the hell he was doing and said it would be fine. That he would just puree everything anyway. I asked him to clean tenderloins-of which he only took off the chain and left all the silverskin on. Had him clean and grill flank-he just opened up the cryovac and threw it straight on a cold grill.
I also got wind that he was trying to incite some racial tension amongst my troops by taking employees in the walk-in and saying stuff like "I ain't used to working for those people" and "don't you see how he treats you because you are black?" My employees stood up for me. You can call me many things, an a#$hole, bald, ugly, stupid, whatever, but I am SOOOO not racist.
So the Monday after the big event, I've gotta let Dick go. North Carolina is a "Right to Work" state, meaning I can fire anyone at any time for any reason. This is also easy that Dick is still in my company's "probationary period". He is not happy, and leaves.
The next week he begins calling my bosses/owners. Claiming I am racist. That this is the most racist/sexist place he has ever worked. Every person in the building is racist. He calls the labor board and is totally gunning to get me fired. I am not a violent person, but I totally want to strangle this guy or punch him repeatedly or both!
Skip ahead one week. Friday. Payday.
I have just come from the hospital. My wife had a miscarriage after 4 months. I am distraught. Especially that I can't stay with my wife after this happened. I can't be with my wife after this surgery.
So who decides to walk through the kitchen to get his check?Through the F-ing kitchen when we have an office and a front door too!?!???
You guessed it -Dick!
He starts wagging his finger at me telling me how racist I am. I lose it. I want to kill this guy.
My 350lb buddy Javy has me wrapped up so I can't get Dick. I mean I've got Javy up off the floor and he's having a hard time holding on to me, but thank God he does.
I totally would have killed this guy-that's just the kind of day I was having. 
Thanks to my employees who had my back. Standing up for me and holding me back from doing something stupid. 
Thanks guys and girls.
If I saw Dick walking down the street today, I would just let it go. 
I'm over it.


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## Keith Neal (May 11, 2012)

My father was a B-17 aircraft commander at the age of 19, flying missions into Germany. The B-17s were often shot up pretty badly during these missions. On one mission Dad was struggling away from the target area with two engines gone and one smoking. He could not maintain altitude or stay with the group, so he was alone in an area known for German fighters who liked to pick off such stragglers. He called for help. Some Red Tails (P-51 Mustangs) of the Tuskeegee Airmen group were in the area and heard his call. They joined up with him and their leader said "Don't you worry white boy, we'll get you home", and they did.

Years later, long after Dad was gone, my Mother heard about a Tuskeegee Airman reunion in her area. She wrangled an invitation, and told the story to the group, asking if anyone knew who the Red Tails in the story were. No one knew, but they loved the story.


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## Lucretia (May 11, 2012)

My First View of a Nekkid Man

When I was around 14-15 years old (yeah, I'm old enough that girls generally hadn't seen at nekkid man at that age) a family friend invited me out sailing. He rented a small boat at a marina and we headed out for a morning on the water. So there I was, in a bikini and sunglasses, perched on the bow and ready for a day on the water.

To get out of the marina, you had to navigate around anchored boats. Silly me, I assumed the guy I was with knew how to sail. Next thing I know we were heading right at one of the expensive-looking anchored boats. "You're going to hit it!" I said. "No, no!" he replied. "I'll tack at the last minute." "You're going to HIT IT!" I said. "No, no! I'll tack!" "YOU'RE ABOUT TO HIT IT!!!!" at which point I started pushing us off the other boat as hard as I could (yes, we were that close) and managed to keep us from ramming it, but we still bumped it pretty hard--then slid behind it, where our rudder promptly got tangled in the line to the dinghy (did I say this was a big, EXPENSIVE boat that we hit?)

Next thing I know, this angry naked man comes running out of the cabin--"WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY BOAT!?!?!?!" and a few other pithy comments. We got untangled, he didn't shoot us, and we finally got out to do a little sailing.

He was tanned all over. And I'd lost my sunglasses.


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## Burl Source (May 11, 2012)

A couple days ago I was standing in the doorway to my shop.
The sun was shining and it felt good. I just stood there thinking, absent mindedly pulling on my beard.
It is a goatee that I have let grow pretty long.

Next thing I hear some kids laughing.
One calls out "Who is that crossing my Bridge?"
Another calls back "It is I, Billy Goat Gruff"
Then they all ran away calling out "Baaaaaaa, look, there is Billy goat gruff. Baaaaaaa"
Laughing as they ran away.


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## Lucretia (May 11, 2012)

:rofl2:


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## cookinstuff (May 12, 2012)

Mark's post just made my day, time for work .


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## mano (May 13, 2012)

In 1974 at age 19 I spent three months hitchhiking and backpacking around the country. A ride dropped me off in Phoenix near dusk and I found my way to the YMCA to get a room for the night. I didn&#8217;t have a reservation and the desk clerk said there were no vacancies, so I asked how to get to the University of Arizona. Back then, college kids were always willing to let people crash in their rooms, or in a common room in the dorm. 

My first ride was from a guy named Ron, in his late 20&#8217;s driving a Firebird. We started talking and when I told him about my trip he offered me a job doing roofing for a week. I could live in one of the bungalows he managed. After saying yes to a sure place to stay and a chance to make some money, we drove around, drank a beer and stopped for gas. While he was at the pump, I helped a cute girl who was having difficulty with her gas cap. The thought of picking her up crossed my mind and it would&#8217;ve been easy to take my backpack from his car to hers. Before I got too far along Ron came between us and helped her himself. It was clear he sensed what I was thinking, but I didn&#8217;t make much of it.

We got back in his car and drove to the home of Vinnie, his roofing partner. We talked, drank a few beers and on our way to the bungalow, Ron told me about himself. He thought long-hairs were phony and he considered himself a low-rider. I&#8217;d intentionally cut my hair short before the trip, and being from the east I didn&#8217;t know from low-riders. By that point in the trip I&#8217;d developed what I thought was a decent sense for potential trouble, and while Ron was someone I knew to keep an eye on, he didn&#8217;t appear to be a threat.

We got to the bungalow, he showed me around and we agreed to start off to work at 7:00. It was a long day so I went to bed. I was asleep when I felt a presence in the room. Ron was sitting in a chair and Vinnie was standing next to him. Ron asked if I wanted to go play pool and drink some more beer. I told them no, and they left. 

I had no idea how much later, but I woke up again and Ron was standing beside the bed with a gun pointed at my head. The lights were on and Vinnie was off to the side. Ron was in my face, repeating, &#8220;Get the change, Jack! We want the change!&#8221; I woke up real quick and gave him my wallet from under my pillow. Ron was angry there was less than $10 but I didn&#8217;t tell him about the $200 hidden in the back pack. 

He started shouting and pointing the silver small caliber revolver at me. I was standing by a wall when he shot the gun to my lower left. Vinnie got real mad and hissed, &#8220;Ron, what the f**k are you doing? Someone is going to hear that and call the police!&#8221; While they argued I looked to see where the bullet should&#8217;ve hit and there was no hole, so I thought maybe it was a blank. I also looked at the back kitchen area, hoping there was a door, but no such luck. 

Ron told me to go outside and get in the car. Instead of asking permission, I said, &#8220;Just let me get dressed.&#8221; I&#8217;d learned to never let myself feel at home during the trip and always kept the backpack ready to go. I grabbed it and thought, &#8220;No f&#8217;ing way am I getting in that car.&#8221; Once outside I told them, &#8220;Give me 60 seconds and you&#8217;ll never see me again,&#8221; and started to move toward the street. Ron punted me full-force in the butt and I swear both my feet left the ground. But I was off and running and glanced back to be sure they weren&#8217;t chasing me. About six houses down I darted between two homes and crouched under a wooden stair case that went to the second floor. A few minutes later I looked between the stairs and saw the Firebird cruising along. They were looking for me.

When your adrenalin is pumping in the midst of a threat, the passage of time becomes surreal. I remember waiting before deciding to run again, but then a dog in the adjacent house began to bark and a light went on over the side door. The dog, a young woman and her boyfriend came out. She kissed him and he drove off in his car. When the time seemed right I made another run the dog I thought was back in the house barked and ran at me. I shielded myself with the backpack and the dog suddenly stopped. It was tied up so I stayed out of range.

With my backpack slung under my arm I ran full tilt for a few blocks before slowing to a trot to get my bearings. The neighborhood was working class with some homes, apartments and small industrial type low-rises. Above the buildings a short distance away was glow of lights, which I figured was a business district. Still worried the guys were looking for me, I zigzagged in that direction. 

Pretty soon I hit a wide, lit boulevard with stores and office buildings. Everything was closed and there weren&#8217;t many cars, but it felt safe, or at least safer. It couldn&#8217;t have been more than a block when I saw the same YMCA. Maybe I could hang out in one of the lobby chairs until the sun came up. The door was open, there was a clerk at the desk and the clock read 11:15. For the second time that day I asked if they had a room and he said, &#8220;You were here before, weren&#8217;t you? It&#8217;s good you came back, we have one room because someone didn&#8217;t keep their reservation.&#8221;


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## knyfeknerd (May 13, 2012)

You'll get tired of hearing my stories, but I don't care. I'm going to tell them anyway, like a senile old man.
I cater (food)parties for a living. My daughter is 5 years old. The other day at school they were talking about what each of the kids parents do for a living. My daughter says that her daddy's job is "To Party" and "He parties every night" 
The teachers must think I'm a degenerate drunk.


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## SpikeC (May 13, 2012)

I was a member of the Village Idiots Motorcycle Club, and every year we had the annual meeting in Eureka CA., called the Lost Coast Luau. We would go for a ride down the Lost Coast, aka Mattole Road. It is a narrow goat path of a road south of Eureka through Petrolia. After a nice breakfast at the Samoa Cook house we headed out down the Lost Coast. I was riding my BMW K1200RS, a true road rocket bomber, leading my buddies on their assortment of sporty bikes. Most of these guys are club racers with more enthusiasm than sense, and we were moving at a pretty good pace. As I came up over a rise I saw a decreasing radius left hander in front of me. My front tire just shaved the edge of the crumbly pavement and dropped into the water filled ditch, stopping froward motion abruptly. When I came to my first comment was, as usual, "Where is my bike?"
It turned out the answer was "on top of me".


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## The hekler (May 14, 2012)

I will relate to you the a story from my freshmen year in college and my introduction to north Philly. It started on a Friday night in October as I said I was a freshmen and was beginning to grow comfortable with my new college lifestyle. As most males recently separated from their parents on a friday evening I was at a frat party enjoying my freedom and doing what college students do. Mainly drink, argue sports, and harass young women. As the party begins to wind down I decide to walk to a chinese take out place about 3/4 of a mile from the party maybe a mile total from campus. This was at a time when philadelphia was the murder capital of the country "killadelphia" and our special part of the city was amoung the worst, think temple university and then some. So one of my buddies decides to give another friend of mine a wicked looking knife to carry to keep us safe. I had a can of pepper spray that I had promised my parents I would carry everywhere. So the two of us set off, my friend who was accompanying me was a remarkable fellow and indeed the most intersting man I have ever met. He was around 35 (he wasn't sure of his age and upon arriving in the united states immigration told him to pick his age, he was one of the "lost boys of Sudan", in case you are not aware of the story behind them it is well worth looking up.basically he and some million plus deplaced refugees wandered over a thousand miles trough deserts and hostile territory to escape their war torn homeland, something like a hundred thousand or less survived the journey. He had personally killed another man with his barehands during the journey and killed a leopard with a spear, both in self defense and was granted a scholarship to our university. Needless to say a bad ass and I felt perfectly comfortable walking the streets at three in the morning with him and my liquid courage from a fun night. As we are walking we begging to realize there is someone behind us hoodie over his head following is. It was unseasonably warm and the goodie seemed out of place so we begin to figure things might get bad. My friend tells me what ever happens follow his lead, and I am more than willing to trust his judgment we try to quicken our pace without seeming obvious but by this time the man is fairly close and we are not in a brightly lot area. He proceeds to call out after ignoring him for a but it gets to the point where he is only a few feet away and it becomes impossible to do so any longer. He produces a silver snub nose .38 and asks for our money, cell phones, credit cards... the usual. I have my pepper spray ready to go in my left hand invade my friend wants to go that route and my cash in the other (about $10 and an ATM card) as I knew this thing happens and it would be imprudent to carry more I have also left my phone at home. I hand the cash over and our assailant is not happy with his take as my friend had a similar amount of money and an ATM card. So he request we go with him to the ATM machine and take out more money. I am still casually holding my can of mace just invade but he does not notice as we get to the machine he foolishly stands behind me to see my account balance allowing my friend to gain position behind him. My friend takes this opportunity to grab our assailants gun while cutting his gun toting arm quite badly with the knife I manage to turn around and empty my can of mace into his face at which point he let's go and bleeding and coughing flees into the night without the gun. In my haste to spray the guy I did quite a good job of spraying myself and my friend an as he coughs I proceed to vomit spectacularly from a combination of stress, pepper spray and too much to drink. Long story short police are called by some friends in a nearby apartment, reports are filed someone is apprehended but released as he was not the guy, we lost $23 dollaRs my friend lost his card but cancelled it before any charges appeared I had my card as I was using it in the ATM machine when everything went down and I learned the value of not walking down a street drunk without a lot of friends. My friend thought it was no big deal while I barely left the campus for months afterwards. Needless to say we probably could have handled it better,obey is vary much replaceable while lives are not but I was vary happy to have had my friend with me an looking back it was a hell of an experience although one I hope to avoid repeating.


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## Hermes7792 (May 14, 2012)

When I was 16 my grandmother Idella's Alzheimer got super bad and every time I would go see her she could only remember my face and that I was a cook. Well the last time I went to see her she was doing OK for all it was worth and when I walked in she got a huge smile on her face(I was so busy with culinary school and work I never had much free time) and she said "Look! The kid is here!". she could never remember my name but for those last few weeks, I was "The kid". She never got to try any of my cooking, but I know she would have loved it. The only thing I inherited was her recipe book, and I know she loved her own cooking! 

That was the happiest memory I had with her towards the end... So If I ever open a restaurant it will be "The Kid". 

Thank you for all your generosity son, you are a true saint.


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## mano (May 15, 2012)

Years back when I worked in the crisis and adult units of a North Philadelphia community mental health center Id regularly have someone who needed to be hospitalized. They were floridly psychotic, sitting in my office while I made calls to different facilities looking for a bed. Sometimes it took up to a few hours.

One day Brenda, an African American woman who knew me well enough was in an agitated state, but agreed to be hospitalized. She had the option of changing her mind so I worked quickly and tried not rile her up. But whats interesting about schizophrenics and some other psychotics, is their ability to pick up on what gets under your skin. A lot of them have a radar for pushing your buttons.

So, Brenda started to go off on the fact that I was a white Jewish guy. She really gave it to me in ways you cant even imagine all the while Im trying to do my job. After the 10th time she said, I hate ******** Jews, I turned to her and calmly said, Brenda, what kind of Jews do you hate the most. Apple Jews, orange Jews, grape Jews? 

She burst out laughing and let me find her a bed.


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## apicius9 (May 15, 2012)

O.k., I 'll play. My grandma's brother had emigrated to the US and returned to Germany in 1964. I grew up with him telling me stories about how wonderful America is, so I saved a little money, worked a few months after high school and then my the girlfriend and I flew over to San Francisco, hitchhiked over to El Paso, then by hitchhiking, bus and train through Mexico, from Yucatan to Miami and back home to Germany, a 4 month trip.

Of course, we were young and naive and didn't have enough money, so we mostly slept outside or in a small tent, at least in the US (more in the tent after awakening in New Mexico one morning with a tarantula walking by a foot from my face...). This was 1981 when this was already crazy but not suicidal like today. Lots of wacko stories on that trip, one to remember was this:

We had hitchhiked and arrived in a godforsaken town somewhere, I think in AZ but don't even remember, on a Friday evening around 8. It was like a scene out of American Graffiti, one Main Street and cars cruising up and down, checking out the girls on the sidewalks. We walked around a bit, hung out at the 50s diner for a while, eventually got tired, and decided not to look for a hotel. In a side street we found an obviously unoccupied house with a back yard that was protected a bit from open view, so we rolled out our sleeping bags and went to sleep. 

Next thing I know, there was a bright light when I woke up. After adjusting a bit, I realized that the bright light came from a spotlight on the Sherrif's cruiser which was pointed on us. Two officers were standing there in shooting position with drawn guns, telling us to get up - very very slowly and with our hands in plain sight all the time... Turns out, the priest across the street did not do the Christian thing (invite poor foreign travelers ) but called the Sherrif . There was a lengthy check of documentation, some discussion, some education about private property even if deserted (which I as an avid socialist at the time wanted to dispute but then thought better of it when my girlfriend started hitting me...). In the end, the Sherrif called a cab and had us driven outside of the city limits. The cab driver was stunned and told us that the Sherrif was known for shooting or booking people first and asking questions later, so we were very lucky.

Exhausted, we rolled up our sleeping bags again on the first lawn outside the city limits and went back to sleep - until we were woken up by noisy insects, and it started to rain. While we, groggily, were wondering whether we should put up our tent, it stopped raining and we went back to sleep - only to be woken up by rain and insects what seemed a short time later. At that point we realized that the insect noises and the rain were an automatic sprinkler which neither of us had experienced before, something for rich folk... It was a short night, but that picture of the Sherrif aiming at me with a pretty big revolver has been burned into my memory...

Stefan


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## Crothcipt (May 15, 2012)

hmm from your pic I would have thought you were a bender robot.:stinker:


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## sachem allison (May 16, 2012)

come on guys! Get your stories in just over 23 hours left before it's over. Remember you can always have someone use it to make you something or make yourself a one of a kind solid ivory handle. Cut it up into spacers or ferrules. give me some stories that's all it takes to get in.
good luck, Son


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## Crothcipt (May 16, 2012)

Ok Son I have been thinking and this is what I come up with. 

I lived pretty much in K. C. for about 10 years. Working for a football player you get to meet quite a few people. One person I really ended up liking was/is Tony Gonzalez. This is a urban legend about him, I have heard it through a few people but never had the chance to confirm it.

In Kansas City there is a place with many bars and restaurants. A college is close by also, so many people that are just walking about all the time. This young woman was going home one night after closing time (3 am). She happened across a guy that she never knew who attacked her. At one point he started ripping off her clothes, to go for the big bad r word. Just as she is screaming some guy with a duffel bag over his shoulder attacks the guy. Tony stopped the assault made sure the girl was ok called the cops and left. 

He could have kept on moving, and done nothing. But he risked his career and life to help her out. 

Not sure on the validity of the story but it does fit the person I had known for a few years.


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## Hermes7792 (May 16, 2012)

just sold my CBR600f4, jewel of a bike to the chef of where I work.

2 weeks later he lowsides and totals it. 

My heart bleeds. 

poor bike, Hes ok though!


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## Hermes7792 (May 16, 2012)

When I was 8 my father gave my brother and I a XR100 dirtbike. It being Christmas and the same year the xbox 1 was released and me being a super gamer at the time, I chose to stay home and play counterstrike on it. When my brother first got on it he literally rammed a fence and went straight through. He had a piece of wood the size of a pencil stuck in his shoulder under the skin(GIANT SPLINTER!) and to think, it would have been me on that bike! he is ok now though, not even a big scar, about the size of a nickle.


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## Hermes7792 (May 16, 2012)

going Through culinary school I hated the knives they provided us. 2 years before I started they gave out very nice wusthofs, but because the sets were $400 or somthing people would lose them and couldnt afford another so they moved to... MERCER knives. I think they are the worst piece of crap Knives in the world. All of them were stamped and had plastic handles. I upgraded to a nice shun classic 8" and 4.5" shun classic paring after my first year. during my last semester I found KKF and bought a CCK1303 and decided I loves cleavers aswell. I always got stupid looks for classmates and underclassmen but my chef instructor thought it was awesome because he loves international technique and skills. 

And thats why I loves cleavers!


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## knyfeknerd (May 16, 2012)

To keep in the motorcycle vein............
.........about 17 years ago I bought a sweet bike. I shiny eggplant purple Kawasaki ZX6. I taught myself how to ride it after almost killing myself several times. What fun! Those who have never been on a bike just don't understand. 
One fine spring day I was riding through my neighborhood to work in the morning. I was probably doing 60mph in a 25mph zone. A garbage truck decides to cut me off. In my inexperience, I apply much too much pressure to the front brake, and kind of jerk the handlebars to the left too. No bueno!!! So I flip off the bike and go sliding down the hill a good 40 ft on my face and arms/legs. I stand up, look at the garbage truck driver who has a Hustler magazine in his hands-nice!
Look at the bike-Damn! it's toast. I was only wearing chef pants and a white tee so I'm missing about 25-30 percent of my skin. Ouch! Light up a cigarette, wait for the ambulance to come. The adrenaline wears off in about 10 minutes and it starts to hurt real bad. I can see my skin and hair stuck in the pavement like skin skid marks.
If I wasn't wearing a full-face helmet that day, I'd be dead now!
At the E.R. they give one Vicodin and 2 minutes later begin to scrub the gravel out of my wounds. That was the most painful part. That and totalling the bike.
I had to miss over 2 months of work, took way more pain meds than I ever hope to again. My girlfriend at the time was sweet enough to hook me up with lots of sponge-baths though.
Do I want another bike, hellz yes! But my wife says not until after the kids graduate from college, which isn't anytime soon. I would never go for a crotch-rocket again either.
That's just what I get for buying a purple motorcycle.


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## Salty dog (May 16, 2012)

Something I wrote back in 2007. The link would be easiest. One of the most memorable experiences of my life. Still feels like it happened yesterday.

http://saltyskitchen.blogspot.com/2007/11/carbon-moment.html


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## Mike Davis (May 16, 2012)

Salty, that is an awesome story. Ok i have a "not as young as i once was" kind of story...ending in personal injury lol. Christmas 2010. My sister in law was in town on leave from the marines. She and my brother in law decided to go snowboarding the day after, and i was invited. So we were up and off first thing in the morning. After a hour and forty five minute drive, we arrived at the hill. We gear up, pay our day fee and head to the lift. After making it to the top, we decide a path. I am horribly out of practice(been ten years) and i should have done a warm up run. I decided to lean into it and am cooking down the hill at around 35-40 mph. I made it through the first set of bumps and made it clean off the first jump. Confidence is soaring, i decide to cut straight down and hit the big jump. Apparently i was going faster than i thought, i did a 360 off the jump. I overrotated, by 45 degrees. The edge of my snowboard dug into the hill when i landed, i catapaulted face first into the frozen hill face. The force of said collision on my face knocked me out cold. When i woke up, i was laying in a puddle of blood(broken nose) and it hurt to breathe. Apparently i had my arm in front of me, landed on a closed fist directly in my sternum. Overall toll was broken nose, fractured cheek bone, 4 broken ribs, fractured sternum (3 ribs seperated from sternum) and a broken thumb. I had anticipated a fun day of cruising the slopes, instead it was an ER trip, a lot of wasted insurance money and a 3 month span before i could lay on my back. The moral of the story, enjoy being young.....While you still heal well


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## Amon-Rukh (May 16, 2012)

Okay Son, here is a story by me. As a side note, your contest has reminded me of how much fun I used to have writing and drawing and that I really should get back to doing more of that sort of stuff again, so thanks! 

* * * 

*Sunset*

This society is in free-fall.

I'm sitting on my fifth story balcony, overlooking the city as the sun sets. A smoky summer orange descending on the horizon, it tints the streets and the whitewashed walls of the new highrises on the outskirts in a translucent shade of red. It is the heavenly, luminescent cousin of the dull red streaks and stains that fleck the sidewalks with their morose and earthly splatter.

I smoke my cigarette and think of the time when people used to die for a reason instead of a triviality, when a man could go about his daily business without being armed, when a girl could run two blocks from the corner store to her home without the constant fear that stalking eyes were on her, waiting to drag her into an alley and beat her, rape her and kill her. The lucky girls are just left for dead where they fall. The unlucky ones are the ones who walk away, who make it as far as a police station where they're taken in by the cops and the beatings and the rape happen all over again.

There was a time when things were better. Back then the drug runners would come through town and make their deals with the police and the boarder guards. They were simply another part of the way things worked. The gangs would roam around after dark and if you got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, then you were going to be robbed for sure and had to count yourself lucky if they didn't beat you to the ground too. But they saved the killing for each other. The bark of guns in the alleyways, flashing muzzles and screaming teenagers writhing on the ground with blood spurting through their fingers and all the excitement replaced by terror and pain. If any of those kids ever grew up, they'd be as old as me now, but I don't think they did. They either died or were crushed beneath the advance of time in a world that has no place in its heart for those who try to repent.

There is a sign that stands at the side of the plaza at the center of town. It is made from a piece of scrap metal hauled from one of the many junkyards that surround the city with their stink and their piles of trash higher than half the homes that the poor people are forced to live in. Written on it in thick, waterproof marker are two lists. On the left, under the heading "Those who do not believe" is a list of names that gets longer every few days or so, sometimes by one, sometimes by a few at a time. On the other side, "Those who do" is another list, made up entirely of names from the left. You have to be crossed out on the left in order to move to the right, and you have to be dead to be crossed out. A name gets crossed off every Saturday night. In a saner place, the killer would never advertise his intentions in such a way. It would be too easy to end up caught, or at least too easy for the cops to protect the threatened victims. But not here. Here the cops are too scared that their names will end up on the list.

The police were never part of the solution but they weren't always part of the problem. It used to be that they just took their bribes and their payoffs and went about things as if nothing was going on. And you could even expect them to help you, if you had the money and you were in the right kind of trouble. That all changed when the army came in. The soldiers were sent by the new government to crack down on the flow of drugs, to run the narcos out of town and to make things look clean and presentable for the foreign powers across the borders. It was an audacious move. For a while, it even worked. Things were shaken up, the narcos didn't know how to react, and things seemed to pacify. Foreign investors came in and brought thousands of jobs with them--all the jobs that people in their countries wouldn't do because the pay was too low. Factories rose around the city and the highrises went up to house the people who came from all over to work in them. But it was all an illusion that masked what was to come.

The drug lords fought back in the most insidious way they knew how. The cartels set aside their rivalries and streamlined their operations. Just like the foreign investors, they kept their eyes on the goals of maximizing profit and cutting out the waste. They bought the police and let the gangs kill each other off or be hunted down. They focused on moving the big money drugs across the boarder and let the lesser stuff sit where it was. Here. And so we went from being the place that all the bad stuff went through on its way elsewhere to being steeped in it ourselves. The foreigner governments told our men in office to fight harder, but their investors saw where things were headed and decided to pull out. The big companies moved their operations elsewhere, to countries where they didn't have to deal with this problem and the people would work for even less, and the factories here closed. The highrises closed--nobody could afford to live in them anymore--and were bought by the cartels and used to store their stuff. A hundred thousand people out of work, sitting on nothing but their misery and piles of drugs.

Here's how you make a living nowadays: you can try for honest work and pray to God that you will squeak on by. You can deal on the side, poison your family and neighbors for ten times that much. Or you can help the cartels kill all the people who did them wrong or raised a voice against them and earn ten times that again. We all pray for things to change, but nobody has any illusions anymore.

I put out my cigarette and grab the black duffel bag with my tools inside, making sure that the black, waterproof marker is there on top. It's Saturday night, and I have to go to work.


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## PierreRodrigue (May 16, 2012)

This was sent as an email to me, I could have seen me trying this in a younger year... 

Just try reading this without laughing till you cry!!! 


Pocket Tazer Stun Gun, a great gift for the wife. 

A guy who purchased his lovely wife a pocket Tazer for their anniversary submitted this: 

Last weekend I saw something at Larry's Pistol & Pawn Shop that sparked my interest. The occasion was our 15th anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my wife Julie. What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized Tazer. 

The effects of the Tazer were supposed to be short lived, with no long term adverse affect on your assailant, allowing her adequate time to retreat to safety...?? 

WAY TOO COOL! Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home... I loaded two AAA batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button.. Nothing! I was disappointed. I learned, however, that if I pushed the button and pressed it against a metal surface at the same time, I'd get the blue arc of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs. 

AWESOME!!! Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to Julie what that burn spot is on the face of her microwave. 

Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn't be all that bad with only two AAA batteries, right? 

There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh & blood moving target. 

I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a second) and then thought better of it. She is such a sweet cat. But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised. 

Am I wrong? 

So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, and Tazer in another. 

The directions said that: 

a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; 

a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a major loss of bodily control; and 

a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water. 


Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries. 

All the while I'm looking at this little device measuring about 5" long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference (loaded with two itsy, bitsy AAA batteries); pretty cute really, and thinking to myself, 'no possible way!' 

What happened next is almost beyond description, but I'll do my best. 

I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side so as to say, 'Don't do it stupid,' reasoning that a one second burst from such a tiny lil ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad.. I decided to give myself a one second burst just for heck of it. 

I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and... 

HOLY MOTHER OF GOD. WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION. WHAT THE... !!! 

I'm pretty sure Hulk Hogan ran in through the side door, picked me up in the recliner, then body slammed us both on the carpet, over and over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs! The cat was making meowing sounds I had never heard before, clinging to a picture frame hanging above the fireplace, obviously in an attempt to avoid getting slammed by my body flopping all over the living room. 

Note: 
If you ever feel compelled to 'mug' yourself with a Tazer, 
one note of caution: 

There is NO such thing as a one second burst when you zap yourself! You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor! 
A three second burst would be considered conservative! 

A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), I collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape. 


· My bent reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. 


· The recliner was upside down and about 8 feet or so from where it originally was. 


· My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching. 


· My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs. 


· I had no control over the drooling. 


· Apparently I had crapped in my shorts, but was too numb to know for sure, and my sense of smell was gone. 


· I saw a faint smoke cloud above my head, which I believe came from my hair. 

I'm still looking for my testicles and I'm offering a significant reward for their safe return! 

PS: My wife can't stop laughing about my experience, loved the gift and now regularly threatens me with it! 

If you think education is difficult, try being stupid!!!!


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## Deckhand (May 16, 2012)

Oh man! That is wayyyyy too funny.:rofl2:


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## sachem allison (May 16, 2012)

Amon-Rukh said:


> Okay Son, here is a story by me. As a side note, your contest has reminded me of how much fun I used to have writing and drawing and that I really should get back to doing more of that sort of stuff again, so thanks!
> 
> * * *
> 
> ...



sounds like sinaloa


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## Amon-Rukh (May 16, 2012)

sachem allison said:


> sounds like sinaloa



Yes--I wrote this after reading a series of articles on on the socio-political situations in Central American countries and Sinaloa featured heavily. I opted not to put any specific names in the text though, since I feel like this is not the sort of circumstance that can be attributed to only one time or place; apply the right combination of factors and events and almost any place can end up like that.


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## sachem allison (May 16, 2012)

Amon-Rukh said:


> Yes--I wrote this after reading a series of articles on on the socio-political situations in Central American countries and Sinaloa featured heavily. I opted not to put any specific names in the text though, since I feel like this is not the sort of circumstance that can be attributed to only one time or place; apply the right combination of factors and events and almost any place can end up like that.



i just recognize some of the players as they fit in with some of my former... lets say associates . past life that I don't remember too much of thank god


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## Deckhand (May 16, 2012)

Would be really satisfying to put the name on the other side of that list of the would be assassins one at a time. I hate a bully whether a individual or a group. That story really upsets me that people have to live that way. I have intentionally hung out with wah Ching, groups where everybody is a cousin kiss on the cheeks with suits guys,hazard in LA where people walk on sidewalk in the daytime with oozies. I always kept my own seperate opinion and identity. I was young and wanting to see how the world was drinking,etc. After private schools and growing up on a private island. Been sober since 6/18/89. I had all the fun I could stand. For normal people doing normal life to have to live in that type of situation is way beyond upsetting.


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## sachem allison (May 17, 2012)

And the winner is the Hekler, as chosen by my roommates three unbiased fat-ass cats. placed all the names in the bag tossed in the cats and the one that came out with the sticky stuck on them picked the winner. congratulations!


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## sachem allison (May 17, 2012)

PM me with your info and I will get this sent out on Monday.


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## sachem allison (May 17, 2012)

*Congratulations, Hekler!!!!!!*


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## Crothcipt (May 17, 2012)

sachem allison said:


> And the winner is the Hekler, as chosen by my roommates three unbiased fat-ass cats. placed all the names in the bag tossed in the cats and the one that came out with the sticky stuck on them picked the winner. congratulations!



Lol you should have shot that, and up it on u-tube.

Gratz Hekler!!!:dance


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## Deckhand (May 17, 2012)

Congratulations Hekler!


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## Candlejack (May 17, 2012)

Congratulations Hekler!


But guys, don't stop here. Some awesome stories and i would love to hear more!
Especially by Son! He's lived a very interesting life and should have lots of stories to tell.


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## The hekler (May 17, 2012)

Wow, really? thanks Son! It's things like this that really make this forum the best on the internet and all too often Son is the guy behind them. I can't speak for others but If I see a post by you it's often the first one I'll click on, whether it's you telling us the back story one a French 'gangs of new York' type knife, or describing a beautiful French lady, you have a easy way of writing along with the most interesting stories, please keep it up!


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## SpikeC (May 17, 2012)

Yay Heckler!! Good job!


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## Mucho Bocho (May 17, 2012)

Funny S#!+ Deckhand!


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## knyfeknerd (May 17, 2012)

Congratulations hekler, what are you going to do with it? Let us know, we love the wips. Thanks again to son for his generosity.
I really enjoyed this thread. Writing about these memories and stories was fun for me. It's kinda like bringing them back to life.
Thanks to everyone for sharing. I think Pierre's was my favorite!


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## Deckhand (May 17, 2012)

Mucho Bocho said:


> Funny S#!+ Deckhand!


Thanks


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## Mike Davis (May 18, 2012)

Congrats Hekler!! You will love this stuff, it looks pretty amazing when polished up. Son, you sir are a class act.


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## Amon-Rukh (May 19, 2012)

Congrats Heckler and once again a big thumbs up to Son for being such an awesome guy! :doublethumbsup:


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