Giveaway

[tattoosteve99]

Here's another chance to give something back. I have a extra old style GAK to give. There is only one catch. I need a story from the members. I want a real life story. Be it good or bad. Enter as many times as you want, but with a different story. I will ship anywhere in the world. I will choose the winner at my discretion and all is welcome, including mods and friends. The knife is used but in great shape. I'll post a pic soon. Have fun but please put a real story and think it through. Good luck and fun my multi friends. Oh this contest will run for one month. I will choose a winner on March 31st.

[scattergun13]

Sounds fun, here's mine. Approx 19 years ago I was a rookie police officer working night shift christmas eve and riding with my field training officer. I was driving and we drove up on a beautifully wrapped, red and gold, christmas present laying in the middle of the road which had clearly fallen out of someone's vehicle on the way to a party, no doubt. Being fresh out of the Marine Corps I was immediately suspicious when I picked it up and sat it in my lap inside the car. I began looking for wires or anything irregular as this clearly didn't seem right. I slowly worked my way around the edges of the package with a Swiss Army Knife that I had at the time, and always carried. I still wasn't convinced it wasn't a bomb. My FTO was a grizzled old police veteran who grabbed the box from me and held it under his nose (not sure why, really) and immediately pronounced it to be christmas candy or fruitcake gone bad, and handed it back to me with the order to hurry up and open it.
I ripped the paper from the elegantly wrapped shoebox only to reveal the freshest box of steaming dog crap ever gift wrapped. I hucked it out of the car and knew immediately that we had been pranked. Just across the street was a house with 2 Doberman's in the backyard and I knew a couple of teens lived there so I instantly suspected them. Wanting revenge, me and my FTO drove up the street and blacked out to wait for the kids to come retrieve it. While waiting we got some other call and had to leave for about 10 minutes.
When I got back to the area, there was the box again, completely re-wrapped, in blue and gold this time and waiting for another victim. Needless to say, I didn't open it. but my FTO was still laughing and calling me an idiot. We got busy and never caught the pranksters.
About 6 months later, I was out on my own and responded to a barking dog call at that same house. When I was let in the front door, there were two teenagers setting on the sofa in the living room. When they saw me they started laughing hysterically. They admitted to the prank and said they had never seen cops un-ass a car so fast in their lives. I had to laugh with them because it was a great joke, once I made them assure me there was no video of the incident.
So there's my story and for the record, I never thought it smelled like christmas candy, but I am still shy of unattended boxes to this day.
Enjoy a laugh at my expense, they did.
Stew and K9 partner "Ajo"...

[scattergun13]

Here's another story, this one from my childhood, which should clarify why I am so psychologically damaged... . When I was nine years old my parents took me to the zoo in Tulsa Oklahoma. At that time there was a small lake there with an island near the shore, and this island was inhabited by some sort of monkeys which were all about the same height and weight as a nine year old boy. One of the zoo keepers had taken a small, yellow paddleboat out to the island to feed the monkeys. This was apparently a daily routine and drew something of a crowd since the island was so close to the shore you could see everythibng he was doing with the primates.
Anyway, the wind kicked up and his boat was blown away from the island, leaving him stranded there. The boat blew to our side of the lake and beached there. Thinking nothing really of the matter, my father set me in the padddleboat and told me to take the boat back to the island for the zookeeper. As a child my family spent lots of time at the lake so I was familiar with boats and water, so off I went. This really drew a crowd...
Being only 9 years old and not tactically minded yet, I didn't give any thought to my approach to the island or to the fact that the monkeys might not welcome me and the zookeeper didn't wave me off so I proceeded on. As I got close to the island, I unknowingly paddled under a long tree branch that hung way out over the water and that's when my world changed forever...
I remember hearing a deafening screech and looking up just in time to see a monkey running full speed toward the end of the tree branch. The rest seemed to happen in slow motion, as most wildly bizarre incidents do. The monkey leaped off the end of the branch and seemed suspended in mid-air for eternity before landing on the little paddleboat with me.
If you're at all familiar with paddleboats, then you'll know there is barely enough room for 2 calm human beings, much less one terrified 9 year old and a hystericaly overprotective female monkey named "Alice". She boarded my tiny vessel, without permission, and proceeded to "monkey spank" me into near oblivion. This really drew a crowd...
I could hear my father yelling for me to "keep my head down" as if he were some expert on primate attacks, nonetheless, I did as I was told and Alice proceeded to beat the hell out of me. When the zookeeper finally swam to the boat and got in with me and the monkey, I was ready for some relief. Much to my dismay, instead of throwing the monkey, or me for that matter, overboard, he just headed to the shore with both of us. He had us seperated and was paddling as fast as he could.
The episode lasted long enough that there was an ambulance waiting on the shore along with my parents and about a hundred amazed onlookers. As it turns out, monkeys don't like ambulances either because just as we got to the shore, Alice apparently became enraged even more by the lights and the crowd and crawled over the zookeeper to beat the hell out of me some more.
When I woke up, I was in a hospital room in Hillcrest Hospital in Tulsa and my parents were by my side. Next to them was a man from the zoo who was offering my father lifetime free passes to the zoo which he politely declined. I recovered fine, with exactly 42 small puncture wounds up and down my small frame and one chunk of the heel of my brand new cowboy boots bitten clean away. I've never been back there but my girlfriend took her daughter there about 5 years ago and there were 2 ladies working there who had heard of the story. I'm happy to report that "Alice" passed away, of old age, not infection, and I am relatively none the worse for wear.
Irregardless, I don't blame Alice, but I still don't like monkeys either...
Stew and Ajo.

[Logrus9]

I think the contest is over 

[tattoosteve99]

Nice stories. I like it. Keep them coming people.

[AHB]

Nice one Steve.. 

[padowser]

Haaaaaaaaaaa...that is an epic monkey spanking tale...Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

[J Mackrel Jones]

The bar has been set - too high!  Give Scattergun the knife, Steve.  But here is a story or two:

A couple years ago I had to pay a visit to a government
office in downtown Denver; the lady at the information desk told
me the office was on the fourteenth floor. After getting off the elevator
I was told that the office I wanted was actually on the 13th floor. Taking
the stairs down one flight I found that the stairwell door was locked.  There was a large gap between the steel door and its steel frame so I took
out my EDC SAK (a Vic Executive) and used the nail file to slip the latch and
gain entry to the desired floor.  While filling out paperwork at the office window I suddenly found an armed guard at my side who asked “Did you just come through that door?”, indi-
cating the door to the stairs. I admitted that I had done so.
The guard said “That door is supposed to be locked” but stiffly accepted
that the door had perhaps not been fully latched. I pretended not to notice as the guard examined the latch, realizing that I had almost been arrested
for Escape From Thirteenth Floor Stairwell.

As a freshman in college and kind of a shy outsider (I guess the school needed one of me to round out some quota), one evening someone came down the dormitory hallway calling out "Does anybody have a corkscrew?"  I had one on my Victorinox Champion and got invited to my first dorm party.

[Fisting_Chili]

Ok, about 15 years ago, I worked with two others in the copy center of a law firm in San Francisco.  It was myself and Kurt working till 9 and Jeff till 8.  Every night, when Jeff had to go use the restroom, he'd tuck the paper under his arm, bid us adieu, and proceed down the hall to the bathroom.

One night, Kurt and I got it in our heads that we would mess with Jeff, so we ran across the hall to the kitchen to get some paper towels.  We were out.  So....we wadded up coffee filters and soaked them all in water.  Then, feeling pretty giddy with anticipation, we snuck into the bathroom and perched outside of the stall door.

Silently mouthing to each other, Kurt and I both counted, 1...2...3....

"AIIIIIIIIIYYYYEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!"  we screamed together and began chucking the sopping wet wads of coffee filters over the stall door!!   We were cracking up....until.....


"HEEEEEEEEEEEEYYYY!!!!!"  somebody yelled from the stall, sounding terrifyingly unlike Jeff.  "Jeff....that better be you." I said. 

"Its not!!  Its DAN!!" (I've changed his name just in case).   Dan...one of the partners working at the law firm.  One who has a corner office on the 30th floor! 

.....holy smurf....

We spend the next few minutes apologizing profusely and repeatedly to him until he finally tells us to just shut up and leave.  Keep in mind, this whole prostration and abandonment of all pride is happening through a bathroom stall door and on the other side is a man still trying to finish his business.

So, Kurt and I leave and get back to our department where we collapse on the counter with our heads in our hands, muttering "holy smurf...holy smurf...holy smurf..." over and over and over.

Few seconds later, Jeff comes walking back in with the paper under his arm, whistling merrily.  "Guys, whats wrong?", he asks.  Kurt and I just look at him with death in our eyes.

So...as part of our duties, we collect the telefaxes that come in for the attorneys and deliver them.  Dan's pile continues to build as none of us want to go and drop them off to him.  Eventnually, they build up so much and one comes in marked urgent, that they can no longer be ignored.

So I prepare myself and walk over.  Dan is in his office and turns red when he sees me coming.  He is wearing slacks and a light blue, button down dress shirt with a white collar.  He also has at least 7-10 big wet spots all over his torso and back.   ( I can only guess he bent over to take cover on the toilet as we continued to rain down wet coffee filter hell on him.)

I walk in meekly and begin to apologize yet again and before I can utter more than "Dan, I'm really..."  He cuts me off with a raised hand and just tells me to leave, which I hastily do.

Kurt and I are absolutely sure we're fired and spend the whole rest of the night and following day smurfing bricks waiting for HR to call us.  We never get the call.

We never got fired and can only assume that Dan did not want to charge into HR  demanding our jobs and have them ask, "What??  What did they do???"

How do you tell HR to fire two long time employees because you were sitting on the toilet taking care of business when they ran in screaming and pelted you with a stream of sopping wet coffee filters??

This is a true story.

[edcgear]

Here's the story from few days ago.... Short one, but for your amusement!!

I was called as witness to court. Small company I used to work for was scammed by one customer, I knew the guy so the company listed me as witness. So I misses first hearing due to my work obligations. The law is such that first court invitation comes trough post, second is delivered by police, and third, well you get a fee and a "free" ride to court house... So as you can imagine, I went on second hearing. I was standing in court house corridor waiting to be called. The moment has come, clerk came out and called me. I stepped inside... You know, you allways have that chills standing infront of judge, it doesn't matter how inocent you are... They, the judges have that impact on people... So I came in, took a stand, all time looking down more or less... And then, I looked the judge.... Damn!!!  It was mrs. judge.... Blond curly hair... Blue eyes... Beautifull face... White shirt buttoned high, but never the less, implying just enough....

Tall... Long legs... Beautifull body... Allways smelling on peaches... 

Now how do I know that?!?!

She is my EX!!!! And not just ex... She was crazy in love with me... She wanted to marry me....

I got cold feets, so I runned with other girl....

 

[tattoosteve99]

Anonymous party gave me a little extra something to add to the giveaway. It's a mini Multitool of unknown parts. Has a small led light in it. Also going to throw in a paracord lanyard made by me. Great stories do far so keep em coming.   

[MadPlumbarian]

OK, i guess ill tell one,
  One day i had to cut out of school early because i had to go to the doc, so im driving in a 85 S-10 Chevy pic up, up on the highway, and this guys driving like right on the speed limit, so i tap the gas to give it a little go to pass, next i let off the gas to move over, nothing happens! next thing im 10mph over the limit, um, why is the gas not letting off? so i tap the gas hoping that it would let off, NO it sticks further down! oh no, now what? so now im like 20mph over and my exit is coming up,, well the gas isnt like the break, you cant pull it back so i exit, get to the stop, and im on the break petal with two feet, cost threw, luckily my destination is like 500ft from where i got off. here comes granny form around the corner, oh great, just what i need, i held the break as hard as i could with two feet, ok, shes turning, i let off the break and screached the back wheels, the truck takes off, here comes the turn, slapped the stick into neutral, and turned the key! i had enough movement to roll into a parking lot and into a spot, as the engin starts steaming,,
    i go to my appointment, not worrying about the dang truck, heck its not even mine, its the old mans, 45min i come back out, the motor is still worm but not steaming, pop the hood, and look things over, the spring on the carburetor broke, i have no tools, except my gerber multi tool, but what the heck am i going to do? my grandparents live like two towns over(12miles) but what to do? in order to get there? i forget what, but there was something in the glove box that had a cheesy spring, like a Bic pen, something just enough to get me to my grandparents. i took it apart bent it around the clips and sure enough it worked and got me to there house, then he looked around for springs, had one that worked perfect, yet it was so freaking stiff you just about needed two feet to push on the freaking gas now, every time you let off it would almost cut the gas off, then he checked the fluid levels since i went threw almost a whole gallon, oops, heck i was only 17 at the time..

3 weeks later the cable shredded to where you couldn't move the petal, so i ended up getting all new parts,,  JR

[tattoosteve99]

Cool story. Macguyer would be proud.

[Grant Lamontagne]

I'm loving these stories!  Keep'em coming!

Def

[tattoosteve99]

Ok more stuff added from another member. A brand new bushnell digital compass. This may turn into a first, second, and third place giveaway.

[MadPlumbarian]

I guess ill give another
After my grandfather gave me my first SAK(Victorinox Swiss Army Champion Plus) when i turned 12, we moved to a new house that had a mountain behind it, everyday my sister and i used to go up in the woods and see what we could find, i always took my SAK, cause who knew when it would come in handy! till one day, i lost it!! OMG where did it go, my father and i took metal detectors, followed my footsteps, found a pair of glasses in the back yard never the less, but no SAK. great my one thing that meant the most to me! fall came, then winter, then spring, i gave up on it. my sister and i still went up and had fun, but it just wasn't right with out it(to me). one day after it rained we were up running around and she slipped and fell, started screaming, so i turned around and started running to her slipped and fell myself, landed right on my face, err, i can still feel it. as im laying there, my eyes started to focus, and i see something under a leaf, i wiped my face, picked up the leaf, sure enough what could it be, it was my SAK. i couldn't believe it, it was in the sheath, oh wow, over 200 acres and i found it! so i opened it up, a little dirty, the brass button on the sheath was turning green, but the knife was almost like nothing happened. then i herd a scream again, OH CRAP i forgot about my sister!! ah she was fine, she just slipped on a rock and bumped her ankle, but me i found my first SAK!! so i took it home and cleaned it up, showed my father, a week later i snapped the corkscrew off from trying to screw it into a tree branch. oops! My older son turns 12 next month, and one thing he will be getting is his first SAK, cant wait!  JR

[scattergun13]

The bar has been set - too high!  Give Scattergun the knife, Steve.  But here is a story or two:

A couple years ago I had to pay a visit to a government
office in downtown Denver; the lady at the information desk told
me the office was on the fourteenth floor. After getting off the elevator
I was told that the office I wanted was actually on the 13th floor. Taking
the stairs down one flight I found that the stairwell door was locked.  There was a large gap between the steel door and its steel frame so I took
out my EDC SAK (a Vic Executive) and used the nail file to slip the latch and
gain entry to the desired floor.  While filling out paperwork at the office window I suddenly found an armed guard at my side who asked “Did you just come through that door?”, indi-
cating the door to the stairs. I admitted that I had done so.
The guard said “That door is supposed to be locked” but stiffly accepted
that the door had perhaps not been fully latched. I pretended not to notice as the guard examined the latch, realizing that I had almost been arrested
for Escape From Thirteenth Floor Stairwell.

As a freshman in college and kind of a shy outsider (I guess the school needed one of me to round out some quota), one evening someone came down the dormitory hallway calling out "Does anybody have a corkscrew?"  I had one on my Victorinox Champion and got invited to my first dorm party.

Way to go Jay Mackeral. Loved em both but the second story was my favorite. It demonstrated both your ability to laugh at yourself and the universal power of the SAK to bring people together.  to you...
Stew and Ajo.

[tattoosteve99]

What??? I figured more people would jump on this deal. Free shipping and a giveaway. I don't understand why more people are joining up ?

[jerseydevil]

What??? I figured more people would jump on this deal. Free shipping and a giveaway. I don't understand why more people are joining up ?

Some of us are trying to:

A) Figure out how to get our stories down to at least a PG-13 level without losing the point of the story.

And:

B) Wondering about the Statute of Limitations in some cases. 

[Ashley]

I have laughed so hard reading this thread. All good stories but so far the monkey and gas pedal sticking have had me laughing the hardest.

Sent from Ash forum mobile

[Heinz Doofenshmirtz]

Many years ago, before I started college, I worked as a bike messenger in San Francisco.  One day I had a delivery to the Mark Hopkins, a very expensive high-brow hotel at the top of Nob Hill. 

Needless to say, if you're at all familiar with San Francisco (don't call it 'Frisco', that's an insult to the locals), you should realize pretty quickly that riding up Nob Hill is a granny-gear gut-buster of a climb, even if you're in good shape. 

Having made my delivery and gotten a sig, with other packages in my bag I tore out of the parking lot as fast as I could, and headed east down California St. back towards downtown; back down the hill I had just climbed up.  The street at the top of the hill there is Mason, next one down going east is Powell.  Heading down, picked up some speed, the light on Powell was green my direction... cool!  Let go the brakes and basically start flying down the hill, rapidly gaining speed... 

The next street is Stockton... green light again... double cool!  Keep on flyin', picking up more speed... So now I'm moving at a pretty damn fast clip... close to 40 mph, so I check the light ahead of me on the next street, Grant, and see that it too is also green... Woo hoo!!! I let myself keep gaining speed... 

Suddenly, with about 100' to go, the light on Grant rapidly turns from green, to yellow, to red!  Now I'm doing a good 50 mph and not only do I have less than 100' to stop, but the crosswalk immediately fills up with Chinese senior citizens (Grant St. runs through the heart of Chinatown), and it's painfully clear I'm not going to be able to stop in time! 

Screeching in horror at everyone to get the smurf out of my way, my brakes squealing, and my tires skidding and literally starting to smoke, not a single person in the crosswalk understand a word I'm saying... they all speak Chinese!  I resign myself to a very messy accident, certain I'm going to kill about half a dozen people when I plow into the crowd in the crosswalk...

Then, the miracle occurs...  With about 10' to the solid white line of the cross walk, a gap about 5' wide opens in the pedestrian traffic and I realize it's my only chance...  I let go my brakes and actually start to hit my pedals as hard as I can...  I just make it through, giving an old man a shave in the process...  fortunately, there is also a break in the cross traffic, and I'm spared yet again from a potential trip to San Francisco General Hospital's ICU and then a trip to the city jail... 

The next block down is Kearny, and the big skyscraper there is the Bank of America building... I pull over, drop my bike, and hobble inside with my knees knocking, find the closest rest room, and wash myself up as best I can from soiling myself from the entire experience. 

And that, believe it or not, is a true story as well as I can remember it.

[scattergun13]

Many years ago, before I started college, I worked as a bike messenger in San Francisco.  One day I had a delivery to the Mark Hopkins, a very expensive high-brow hotel at the top of Nob Hill. 

Needless to say, if you're at all familiar with San Francisco (don't call it 'Frisco', that's an insult to the locals), you should realize pretty quickly that riding up Nob Hill is a granny-gear gut-buster of a climb, even if you're in good shape. 

Having made my delivery and gotten a sig, with other packages in my bag I tore out of the parking lot as fast as I could, and headed east down California St. back towards downtown; back down the hill I had just climbed up.  The street at the top of the hill there is Mason, next one down going east is Powell.  Heading down, picked up some speed, the light on Powell was green my direction... cool!  Let go the brakes and basically start flying down the hill, rapidly gaining speed... 

The next street is Stockton... green light again... double cool!  Keep on flyin', picking up more speed... So now I'm moving at a pretty damn fast clip... close to 40 mph, so I check the light ahead of me on the next street, Grant, and see that it too is also green... Woo hoo!!! I let myself keep gaining speed... 

Suddenly, with about 100' to go, the light on Grant rapidly turns from green, to yellow, to red!  Now I'm doing a good 50 mph and not only do I have less than 100' to stop, but the crosswalk immediately fills up with Chinese senior citizens (Grant St. runs through the heart of Chinatown), and it's painfully clear I'm not going to be able to stop in time! 

Screeching in horror at everyone to get the smurf out of my way, my brakes squealing, and my tires skidding and literally starting to smoke, not a single person in the crosswalk understand a word I'm saying... they all speak Chinese!  I resign myself to a very messy accident, certain I'm going to kill about half a dozen people when I plow into the crowd in the crosswalk...

Then, the miracle occurs...  With about 10' to the solid white line of the cross walk, a gap about 5' wide opens in the pedestrian traffic and I realize it's my only chance...  I let go my brakes and actually start to hit my pedals as hard as I can...  I just make it through, giving an old man a shave in the process...  fortunately, there is also a break in the cross traffic, and I'm spared yet again from a potential trip to San Francisco General Hospital's ICU and then a trip to the city jail... 

The next block down is Kearny, and the big skyscraper there is the Bank of America building... I pull over, drop my bike, and hobble inside with my knees knocking, find the closest rest room, and wash myself up as best I can from soiling myself from the entire experience. 

And that, believe it or not, is a true story as well as I can remember it.

That was funny! Did you have to remove any of the seat from your backside after the near disaster?

[Heinz Doofenshmirtz]

Many years ago, before I started college, I worked as a bike messenger in San Francisco.  One day I had a delivery to the Mark Hopkins, a very expensive high-brow hotel at the top of Nob Hill. 

Needless to say, if you're at all familiar with San Francisco (don't call it 'Frisco', that's an insult to the locals), you should realize pretty quickly that riding up Nob Hill is a granny-gear gut-buster of a climb, even if you're in good shape. 

Having made my delivery and gotten a sig, with other packages in my bag I tore out of the parking lot as fast as I could, and headed east down California St. back towards downtown; back down the hill I had just climbed up.  The street at the top of the hill there is Mason, next one down going east is Powell.  Heading down, picked up some speed, the light on Powell was green my direction... cool!  Let go the brakes and basically start flying down the hill, rapidly gaining speed... 

The next street is Stockton... green light again... double cool!  Keep on flyin', picking up more speed... So now I'm moving at a pretty damn fast clip... close to 40 mph, so I check the light ahead of me on the next street, Grant, and see that it too is also green... Woo hoo!!! I let myself keep gaining speed... 

Suddenly, with about 100' to go, the light on Grant rapidly turns from green, to yellow, to red!  Now I'm doing a good 50 mph and not only do I have less than 100' to stop, but the crosswalk immediately fills up with Chinese senior citizens (Grant St. runs through the heart of Chinatown), and it's painfully clear I'm not going to be able to stop in time! 

Screeching in horror at everyone to get the smurf out of my way, my brakes squealing, and my tires skidding and literally starting to smoke, not a single person in the crosswalk understand a word I'm saying... they all speak Chinese!  I resign myself to a very messy accident, certain I'm going to kill about half a dozen people when I plow into the crowd in the crosswalk...

Then, the miracle occurs...  With about 10' to the solid white line of the cross walk, a gap about 5' wide opens in the pedestrian traffic and I realize it's my only chance...  I let go my brakes and actually start to hit my pedals as hard as I can...  I just make it through, giving an old man a shave in the process...  fortunately, there is also a break in the cross traffic, and I'm spared yet again from a potential trip to San Francisco General Hospital's ICU and then a trip to the city jail... 

The next block down is Kearny, and the big skyscraper there is the Bank of America building... I pull over, drop my bike, and hobble inside with my knees knocking, find the closest rest room, and wash myself up as best I can from soiling myself from the entire experience. 

And that, believe it or not, is a true story as well as I can remember it.

That was funny! Did you have to remove any of the seat from your backside after the near disaster?

I actually had pushed myself so far back on my bike to add power to my brakes that I was resting my chest on top of my seat...  when I pulled up to start pedaling again I did have an unfortunate encounter between my nethers and my tool kit, which I kept strapped under my seat...     Fortunately no clothes were damaged in the process!

[MadPlumbarian]

I did something much like that, I was coming down a large hill with my friend on my pegs, I got the break lightly on,and my friend says why are we going slow, um breaks, well let them go, so I did, all I feel is a light tug on the shoulders then nothing, oh crap, so I turn back, phew he's still on. So I get to the bottom and its a 5 way intersection going into a gas station, but I didn't start breaking soon enough, well I did, but I forgot about the extra 160lbs on the pegs!! Oops, right threw the intersection and into the station, car from left, car from right, and one comeing out. Rolled right to the curb at the air pump and stopped.. phew, any more and would have would have gone over then right into the river! Funny thing was my friend asked "what are we doing here"? Oh I just have to check my tires.. gulp!  JR

[AimlessWanderer]

I too had an unfortunate biking accident in my youth due to being a little over zealous on the speed front. There were three of us around the same age (probably 14ish) who got new (to us) bikes around the same time. One had a mountain bike which worked fine, I had an old racing bike, and the other had a racing bike with a rather unusual quirk - whenever he went past a really pretty girl the front wheel would fall off. I don't know if the natural biological reaction of an adolescent male in the situation unbalanced the bike in a certain way or what else would lead to it happening, but it would be a case of all heads left (or right as the case may be), followed by an almighty clatter as he was flung over the handle bars and we (and the pretty girl) would laugh hysterically as his wheel carried on merrily down the street without him ... the guy was always a real cool dude when he wasn't riding that bike which just made it funnier ... but that's an aside.

Here's the painful story as I remember it. One day we set off from our house at a rate of knots for no other reason than teenage bravado. Mountain bike at the front, erectile wheel dysfunction in the middle, and me bringing up the rear. We veered off the main road (too fast obviously) onto a housing estate, and the road then makes a sharp left turn. The other two made the turn fine, but as I rounded the corner the back wheel skipped, and again and again. I had a proper tank slapper going on and there was little I could do to wrestle it back under control. I was thrown out of the saddle but not off the bike and instinct said "BRAKE"

Unfortunately nothing happens instantly and that reaction takes a fraction of a second to calculate, as does the electrical impulses down to the fingers, and the clenching of the fist around the brake lever. In real terms this is not a long period of time, however it was enough time for gravity to plant my arse onto the rear tyre which due to the direction of rotation threw me forwards - just in time for the final actions of braking to happen and the brake calipers to clamp down on my scrotum. The pain was excruciating and led to the most evil reflex reaction possible ... the pain made my fists clench tighter!!! The more it hurt, the tighter I gripped! Eventually ... I have no idea what time scales were involved at that point ... the friction between the knobbly tyre and my vice clamped genitalia brought me to a whimpering halt, and as one the bike and I slowly toppled to one side.  The impact finally separated me and the family jewels from the evil clutches of the bikes safety mechanism 

Much writhing, and squealing later (I don't remember much about the "floor" time), I had the unpleasant task of pushing my bike - very very slowly and tearfully - all the way back home so I could gingerly tend to my wounds. I'll spare you graphic details and the "I needed 65 stitches" gag, but things were in a very sorry state down there. For some reason I developed a little more speed awareness and sympathy towards my mates emancipating wheel after that

[Sazabi]

Making-sterile-through-stupidity videos don't make me wince as much as your story did. 

[AimlessWanderer]

ACTUALLY ... just remembered!     

The kid at the front on the mountain bike had a bit of an incident with a trampoline at school. He bounced a little too high, got a bit wayward and landed one leg either side of the coil spring. It stretched as he landed then contracted, getting hold of his nethers. A few of us had to carefully climb onto the trampoline to weight the canvas down and stretch the spring before he could be lifted out.

I'd forgotten about that!!

[Logrus9]

 

This thread keeps on delivering!

 

[tattoosteve99]

Just so people will know the GAK is a older version. It is a safari trooper similar as the one listed on edcsource.

[Ashley]

  This thread is knee slapping funny.