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I have helped a few guys I know who do repo work by figuring out where the person lives and what their daily routine is, so they can recover cars in public places with lots of cameras like Wal Mart, where there's less chance of people getting violent. One time we got a newer Town and Country minivan wherein the owner had kids whom they most assuredly didn't really take care of. lovely diapers in the floor boards, empty milk containers with mold in them and a lot of half eaten snacks melted all over it. That was a terrible smell. Also once I helped them find and secure a late 90s Jeep Cherokee that had like 18 copies of the season 2 box set of Gilmore Girls.
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Nov 17, 2015 21:00
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| # ¿ May 12, 2024 08:56 |
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Judging a mod on his first day's work probably isn't a very fair metric one way of the other imo. Give ol Spidero a bit of time to get himself comfortable in the role and I'm sure he'll be fine, he's already pretty good at just communicating poo poo when asked about it without getting defensive or angry, which has almost every past GBS mod beat. Also, I like Gnarly. GBS will be fine
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Nov 18, 2015 16:27
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A flurry of savage suplexes on a man with Parkinsons until he was surely dead because he kept accidentally kicking out at 1
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Nov 18, 2015 17:22
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20matar posted:Is that about Verne Gagne the wrestler? I know he killed another old man in the nursing home. I have no idea. He was wearing a mask and from parts unknown so the cops had no idea where to even start looking.
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Nov 18, 2015 19:07
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Drunk Nerds posted:What is cnc? 
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Nov 18, 2015 21:43
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Applewhite's story reminded me I used to work in a ghetto movie store. The owner didn't have much money and rental copies of movies were expensive, so he would have us download foreign dubs of movie and then reinstert the English over top. Problem is we had a simple kid there named Doug who always hosed it up, but the owner would never let us throw out a burned copy of anything, so we had a bunch of hosed up movies. We would also have a movie going on at the store at all times, and on Tuesdays and Fridays Doug got to pick the movies. So my Friday nights were often walking around sweeping the floor and checking inventory while Doug's version of Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon was playing that had all the dialogue, background music and even canned laughter from an entire season of Seinfeld, or Titanic overlayed with the best of Kramer. I protested to the owner a few times, but around the 4th he came clean. Turns out Doug had been a normal kid until 3 or 4 years before when the owner had him working late one night putting up shelves for the movies. Everything was going fine as Doug would build them the owner would put the new movies in them. But one of the shelves collapsed and dumped a bunch of VHS copies of Ed O'Niel's movie "Dutch" all over Doug, giving him a traumatic brain injury. But the owner, he didn't have insurance so he just promised to Doug's family he'd keep him employed for the rest of his life for $25/hr so they wouldn't sue and he could afford to live on his own. Kinda hosed up, but there' some nobility to it. From then on I treated Doug a little nicer than I had, felt bad for him. I would praise his Seinfeld-ized versions of Forrest Gump, Scent of a Woman, even his version of Sam Jackson's Shaft that featured a lot of dialogue from Kramer's lawyer Jackie. I just smiled and told him he did a good job. Then one night, as we were closing up Doug called me over to see his latest opus, Eyes Wide Shut. The whole thing was next level bizarre, even for Doug. All the sex scenes were just voiced by clips of Elain shouting and struggling, but he added the girls from Friends to it as well and what I could only assume were grunts and collisions from the previous week's Monday Night Football game. I don't remember specifics but I remember it having a Newman heavy plot. The whole time I'm watching it Doug is just smiling like the retard he had become that fateful night. I felt repulsion, laughter and sympathy at the same time as the movie continued on, and then as the credits rolled, I heard Doug making noise. Doug made a hiccuping noise, it started slow, then sped up. The cantor was like a show-horse being made to gracefully and methodically speed up as it is presented to the judges. Finally I saw a tear and Doug let out a high pitched wailing noise. It wasn't sorrowful or .. The Son-of-a-bitch was laughing, he was laughing with tears of jubilation streaming down his face. In the proceeding moments, Doug would explain to me how he only got a concussion, but he hated the job and just wanted to make a lot of money while editing together his own fan-scripts for Seinfeld. The bastard had turned an entire video store in to his personal Deviant Art Fanfiction depository . He had faked being a simpleton and dived down the rabbit hole of erotic fiction. I would never trust a retard again
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Nov 19, 2015 14:18
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Worked at a put-put course when I was 17. It was a neat place for a high school kid to work, you got to mess around and play a little golf every day, and the Wendy's next door hired pretty high school girls almost exclusively. There were only 7 of us that worked there, but the only person important to this story was Connor. Connor was a Mormon kid a year behind me in school, really nice kid, never swore, wouldn't say a bad word about anyone, just a really nice guy. I worked with Connor every Friday and Saturday night, the two of us would show up and take over for Justin and Milo around 4pm those days and we'd close down at 11pm. It was an easy gig, tell kids a few years younger than us to not hit the soda machines when it ate quarters, fast resets on old arcade machines when they'd gently caress up, signing out putters and balls and every now and then having to fix the loving windmill on the 18th hole. The windmill was a complete loving piece of poo poo. It was a big fiberglass shell with an electric evaporate cooler motor at 1/8th power to spin the windmill's "blades" at about 100 RPM. Problem was the motors had a hard time on windy days or when people would touch them, because the torque required to turn the 7 foot plywood blades was a bit more than the motor should have been handling on it's own to begin with. So any day when the wind would pick up or some kid would put his club out to hit the blade, it would cause the motor to lock up and you'd have to unplug it, hand turn the shaft and apply a little Vaseline to get it to turn again. We put a hand crank on it just to make it easier to operate really quick while the party finishes up, since the boss made sure no one got a free shot at the windmill, since the prize for winning was a free Cheeseburger, fries and frosty from the Wendy's next door, that he also owned. Connor and I had been working together for about 3 months and Summer vacation was about to end. In that time we got to be friends, I had hung out with him a few nights after work and had a burger while we tried to chat up the girls at the Wendy's next door. Got to know him well enough to see past the straight laced Mormon guy demeanor and realized he was pretty funny and knew how to cut loose and have fun. Sometimes he'd go in the windmill and hand operate it so he could block little kids from scoring the hole in one, sometimes he'd restart the pinball machines to get a free ball when one of the girls next door would come over on her break, he even had me over to hang out with his family a few times. Good people. So that night we're about an hour and a half away from closing time on a dead night. It was getting windy so the windmill started making a metallic screech, so Connor volunteered to go and fix the motor while I kept an eye on the front. Not even 4 minutes later people start to show up to play putt-putt, so I just start renting them clubs and balls and sending them out on the course. Now I see Connor's Mom show up with his little brother and sister to play some golf and see him. I let them have the putters to go play for free and said he was working on the windmill and would probably be done in a few. I go about doing nothing for the next 10 minutes when I realize Connor has been trying to fix the Windmill for like 20 minutes, when the repair normally takes us closer to 5 minutes, so I go to check on him. I get to the windmill and open the little access door and smell the worst loving stench I had ever experienced at that young age. It smelled like a turd had thrown up on a dead fish., I look in a half second before I see Connor and one of the girls from next door int here together, looking horrified. So out of pure shock I loudly say "Connor, dude what the hell is going on!?" as I pulled away from the door and back toward something that didn't smell like a New Delhi Street poo poo Stream, as I'm finishing the sentence the girl just charges out, her beige pants looking like she'd been using her rear end to go 4x4'ing after a rain storm. Connor followed quickly, trying to button his back up, but his jeans were covered in the front with what looked (yet smelled nothing like) a snickers bar thrown in a blender. Connor stopped, looked at me and said "Dude, just help me out and......" he turned ghost-white. He just stood there looking like a deer caught in the headlights of an on-coming semi-truck. I turned to see where his eyes were and saw his mom, not even 10 feet behind me with a look on her face that reminded me of the face of sheer rage Sigourney Weaver made for the entire last hour of Aliens. His mom had pieced together the same thing I had, our boy Connor was gettin himself some "keep your virginity loophole" rear end-pussy when a severe septic blowback had occurred. His mom blew-the-gently caress-up, her voice changed pitch and cantor with every word, Connor was forced to stand there, in front of 3 groups of jr. high kids and his mother while she made every parental threat possible and promised his life and career as a putt-putt operator was over and that she was going to give away his 1986 Fiero to his cousin getting back from mission since he was never leaving the house again until he went to seminary. But it was her her words I heard when she was making him get in his car to drive home took in the parking lot that really got me "Really Connor, you're doing that with your own cousin!?" Worst part was she took his rear end away before we closed, so I had to hose out the goddam Windmill that night. Plus, dude never reset the loving motor so I still had to fix it in a fiberglass hut that smelled like a bathroom after a low budget porno.
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Nov 24, 2015 21:03
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Applewhite posted:Well then it makes perfect sense for her to be naked. When my mom was a kid she used to help her dad slaughter the Thanksgiving and Christmas pigs, your luau story killed with her yesterday
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Nov 27, 2015 14:36
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Applewhite posted:lol does she have any amusing stories of her own? Not really, but the pig not dying when he dad shot it was always a fear she had
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Nov 27, 2015 16:49
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When I worked at the prison while i was going to school, we had a pissed off guard poo poo in the coffee pot that the admin team had in their office with a typed note attached "You guys can clean it out yourselves this time" with a bunch of dates over the past 2 years listed under it
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Jan 4, 2016 14:39
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| # ¿ May 12, 2024 08:56 |
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Fluo posted:Did the admin team poo poo in the guards coffee pot for 2 years and he hust found out it was them? No, he was mad about having to clean up after the mistakes admin made which made the prisoners really surly
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Jan 4, 2016 21:41
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