| Author | Message | ||
     Dasxb9s |
BTW... Another chapter in the adventures of DASXB9S is in the works... an "incident" occurred while I was writing the posting before this one... and I am a fixin to tell that story... ...the story contains violent content... parental discretion is advised! stand by kiddies!!!! | ||
| Dasxb9s |
The continuing adventures of DASXB9S... There has been a killing. I have been in professions my entire life that have involved going into harms way... and carrying firearms in the service of my country. I have also trained with Navy Seals... British SAS... narcotics entry teams... and "SWAT" teams. I have trained hundreds of people on the use of fire arms... and shot competitively. ...and there are very few firearms I have not either shot, handled or studied. One thing I have never done... is hunted. Well, there was that Hereford bull I shot... and was dragging to my Chevy when this farmer got really angry... but that is another story! Well... I was sitting at the very computer I wrote this on when I heard screams from my kitchen. Having heard a commotion just seconds before this... the scrambling of feet... the scooting of chairs... there was something terribly wrong in the Casa de Bankrupt! I sprang to my feet... took a quick step toward the doorway from the den into the kitchen... and I recoiled as I approached the door!!! It seems my boot lace had caught on the roller of my heavy office chair... and upon hitting the end of the shoelace... I looked like a horizontal bungie jumper springing back into the huge office desk. About 2 minutes later I regained consciousness... slowly having the world return to focus... at first I thought I was once again hanging up side down from the rain gutter... then I realized I was IN the house... and not again hanging from it!!! I was still hearing sounds of distress from the kitchen... and knew my sweetie... her adopted son and my son were in peril. I HAD TO CLEAR MY HEAD... FREE MYSELF FROM MY TETHER... and come to their aid... my family unit was in need of rescue. I heard one of them scream... "GET BACK... IT WENT THERE!" ...and could hear them all scramble to the other end of the kitchen. You have to realize... that even though I live in the city... I have a big lot that adjoins a creek. In my back yard I have bunny rabbits... the constant scurrying of squirrels... I bet a racoon or two wander through... maybe even an opossum... hell... I have even read that bobcats have begun to return to wooded areas in these parts. I look out the window of my den... and sometime forget I am in the city... and feel like Daniel Boon! BUT... I realize these furry little creatures can be vicious... running in packs... killing adults... dragging off small children and domesticated animals!! My fear was one of these rabid creatures had infiltrated my home... and was terrorizing my family. Or could it be... an intruder... as I have had prowlers on my property? I AM A MAN... I MUST PROTECT MY FAMILY AT ANY COST. Well. Not any cost... I still have some Christmas shopping to do! I pull out my knife to hack myself free from the deadly entangled boot lace... just then I had flash backs from my little accident with my knife when I fell off the roof. So... I put the knife away... and reached up on my desk for the scissors. (Being very careful... as the knife wound from that little accident when I fell off the roof has not yet fully healed... and I did NOT want to again injure myself!) I run... well that is not quite a correct description... only wearing one boot... it was more like hobbling. Anyway... I am on my feet... and the dizziness was beginning to subside when it happens. I realize the other boot lace was also entangled on the chair. Since I was hobbling... I was not traveling at the velocity of my previous attempt to save my family... so I did not bungie back into the desk... the lace came free... and I went face first... into the door frame. About 2 minutes later I again regain consciousness... hear more sounds... and realize what had just happened... and feel a very sharp pain... in my left thigh. You know how your mother always told you that you should never run with scissors... well wouldn't ya know... she was right! In my hurry to investigate the danger in the kitchen... I had failed to place the scissors on the desk. I guess I REALLY should not have sharp objects... so I consider I should get something less dangerous to myself... so I grab my gun... WHAT CAN GO WRONG!!! I am dizzy... my vision is blurred... I am limping and bleeding profusely from my thigh... (hey... it has to take several minutes to bleed out from a femoral vein)... blood is in my eyes... I stubbed my toe in all the attempts to exit the den... I think I might have a couple of teeth loose... BUT I MUST GO ON... I MUST SAVE MY FAMILY. ...and what I saw when I entered my kitchen... will be burned into my memory for the remainder of my life. My son is hanging from the ceiling fan over the dinner table... my sweetie somehow has wedged herself in to the top opening of the cabinet over the kitchen sink... and her son is on top of the refrigerator... and they all are screaming and pointing... and I can't make out what they were saying. Maybe it was the concussion I got when I went head first into the door frame... maybe it was that my head was not quite clear from being knocked unconscious... twice... maybe it was all that cough medicine I had drank... because I was out of Vodka... but it was clear... something had them in fear of there life. Slowly I came to realize what it was... it was not some deranged intruder... it was not some wild animal... IT WAS ME! In their eyes they saw... a stumbling... bleeding... blurry eyed... adrenalin charged... semiconscious... barefoot... intoxicated man... with a .45 automatic... and he was entering the kitchen... drooling... talking incoherently... and waving a loaded gun all around the room. I had walked into a situation where a mouse had run across the kitchen floor several minutes earlier. Startling them all. So I am standing there... and as two teeth fall from my mouth... and a stream of blood squirts across the room... in a high arch... painting an abstract design on our little white dog... I realize... that when I walked into the room... they all were standing in front of the refrigerator... discussing a mouse... they had looked directly at me... and had scrambled to safety. My head was beginning to clear a little more... and I realized they were all yelling at me to drop the gun... so I did... right on the toe I had stubbed! After giving them all a French lesson with the language that spewed out in a stream of profanity... from the searing pain that traveled like a bolt of lightning up my toe... through my entire body... I began to think clearly... I WAS A MAN... and NO mouse was going to cause this much turmoil in MY house! I sent my Sharon after some duct tape to use to bind my wound... and stop the bleeding before I passed out from blood loss. I sent her son to get my glasses... to see if that might clear at least some of the blurry vision. ...and I sent my son to lock up the .45 automatic... and retrieve my pellet pistol. There was going to be a killing! As they went about to tend to their assigned chores... I thought I would walk closer to the refrigerator to try and locate the mouse. Well... I guess I was still not thinking clearly... and this kitchen... like most kitchens... has a very smooth... a very shiny... in this case... a very wet floor... from where I am bleeding out... I moved about half a step... when both my feet went straight out... my body was suspended horizontally for a split second... like one of those scenes from The Matrix... then BOOM... I am on the floor. About 2 minutes later... I regain consciousness. My son is crying... Sharon's son is crying... Sharon is crying... and she wrapping duct tape around my left thigh to stop the bleeding. Remember the scissors? Well... when I got the .45 automatic... I guess I did not put them down... and I still had them in my left hand. The key word here is HAD... because now... they were no longer in my hand... they were sticking out of the left cheek of my ass. And after all the bleeding after I had pulled them out of my thigh... they were just fine where they were. (A decision I would later regret when Sharon drove me to the emergency room!). It was at this time my head began to again clear... and I realized they were not crying because of my predicament... well that is not exactly correct... they WERE crying because of my predicament... BUT... they were crying tears of laughter! Well... I had a good shot of adrenalin... and I was gonna kill something! I AM A MAN!!!! ...and this is getting long... and it really hurts to sit on my left cheek... so I will shorten up the story and tell the end. The little mouse is hiding behind a cabinet... which we had exposed by moving the refrigerator out... and I was not going to wake up dead... from being mauled by a rogue mouse. There was only a gap of less than 3/4 on an inch... there was no way to get him out alive... and I WAS NOT sleeping in this house with such a creature running amuck... there was gonna be a killing! So... propped myself up against the other doorway... with a good view of the creature... a bright flashlight... a pellet gun... and laughter and tears in the background. I took careful aim... and... one shot... one kill. Well... one shot one kill if you don't count the accident shot I fired into my stubbed toe, when Sharon bumped the scissors hanging out the cheek of my ass as she walked through the doorway... it wasn't really her fault... she was in tears and laughing... and could not see well. There was one minor problem... how do I get the carcass from behind the cabinet? Or maybe the better question... how much will it cost to replace the cabinet... and repair the wall from where I used my cane to pry the cabinet out to recover the body? Anyway... there was a burial at sea... which was another mistake... as the little cardboard coffin I made had clogged the toilet... and flooded the bathroom! AND... this is based on a true happening... a killing... I have the medical bills to prove it! ...and soon the bills from the carpenter and plumber! | ||
| Gravedigger |
Hey All, After reading several of Dennis's short stories I can only think of one thing. PLEASE! DO NOT INVITE THIS GUY ON ANY FUTURE TRIPS! I know he has been unable to make one as of yet! And its probably rude to state this, BUT! We have had very good luck in the past of having everyone come back in one piece! I just think it is the best interest of HIS HEALTH not to be flying around unknown corners and through mountains. In all fairness, I have purchased a digital video camera and we can let him bench race to the tapes.  keith p.s. and no Sam, you may not borrow the camera for your future porn career! | ||
| Fuscat |
Zues, saw ya this morning you were busy at the counter so I passed on by. Got to check out my bike today! Sam & Frank the swing arm looks GREAT! I dig it alot. However I am not very into that fender.. what to do, what to do... Either way I appreciate all the help you guys. I also tried out the new seat I bought off of Charles Shikle from here at the bad web and I like it alot! it felt good too lots of padding and it didnt mess up the lines of the bike! Did you keep ahold of all the stock parts that arent gettin sent back due to recall parts?? I been keeping ahold of everything.. Frank let me know when you get done with the list of stuff so I can be prepared when it comes time to pay the bill!  I meant to take some pics but the bikes were pretty packed in so I decided not too. Plus I was in a hurry.. Anyways, have a Merry Christmas everyone! | ||
| Dasxb9s |
Digger... Maybe I am a little slow on the uptake... because of the multiple concussions... but are you proposing to the others what could be considered age discrimination??? If so... let's just settle out of court... bring your bike to my house... and I will over look your discriminatory actions!!! One of my personalities just might be a lawyer!!! ya never know!!! | ||
| Tripper |
His bike's all beat to shit, you don't want it. Sue him. | ||
| Gravedigger |
ya sue me! even though it is currently in less pieces than Sams! | ||
| Dasxb9s |
NO RESPECT FOR THE ELDERLY!!!!! I don't care how many pieces it is in... I have a shop... a shit load of tools... and a full winter to get it put together. Box up the pieces... and start mailing them!!! | ||
| Dasxb9s |
Mobbers... You all are giving Thunder a complex!!! He is beginning to think you all never read any of his posts!!! OK GUYS... WHAT'S IT GONNA BE??? ...he asked a question!!! ********** Our Brother requested comments with this posting: Attention KC Central Brag Club Members We have just been informed by W.J. Mcbrides, that we can meet on Thursday evening but 2nd one of the month is already spoken for..... So if everyone would consider the 1st Thursday of the month or as a second choice the 3rd Thursday those are our options... That means if we choose the first Thurs we will not be able to meet at Mcbrides until February . We Could just meet at the Other Place in OP for eats and some Club stuff on the 2nd Thurs in Jan. Comments can be emailed to: KCBuellers@yahoo.com ********** I called him in a panic thinking the Frankster was moving to Oregon... when he called back I gave him my thoughts on the meeting question... and he confided in me that he usually gets no responses to these types of questions. While we were talking the poor man broke down... and started sobbing... he kept saying you all don't like him... and you all make fun of him behind his back... he kept sobbing and rambling on about everyone hates him... it was pathetic... he was a broken man... I was on the phone with him for hours... trying calm him down... reassure him... I kept telling him we all loved him like a brother... I had trouble keeping him on the phone until the intervention team could get to his house... and continued to talk to him... even hearing them on a bullhorn asking him to open the door... He would not open the door because he was afraid we were all there and we were going to make fun of him... crying and sobbing because we did not accept him... I could hear the SWAT smash in the front door... and the psychologist calming him as he held a wet towel over Thunders face from all the pepper spray. It was a terrible experience... he was sobbing uncontrollably right up to the second they sedated him! ...and this was all because Mobbers... would not take the time to let him know about when we meet next year! It's always the quiet ones that worry me... and the neighbors always say "He was a quiet man... he always kept a nice yard!" ...and who had been spending weeks landscaping... and not riding!!! ...he is showing all the indications when they profile a cereal killer... you don't want the man to break... and go after our Wheaties... DO YOU!!! GIVE THE POOR CRYBABY A BREAK!!! Let him know your opinion about the meeting night!!! I missed my favorite TV show that night dealing with all the whining... I hung up 27 times... but he kept calling me back... THINK ABOUT ME... I CAN'T TAKE ANY MORE OF THIS... RESPOND TO THE MAN'S QUESTIONS... MAKE IT YOUR NEW YEARS RESOLUTION!! You don't him to get medieval on any one do you????? Besides... how well will he progress in his group therapy if we continue to ignore the little whiner! ANSWER THE MAN!!!!!!!!!!! | ||
| Dasxb9s |
Hey... I will start it... come on guys... speak up! Thunder... I have no problem with the meetings changing to Thursdays... and I have no preference as to which Thursday of the month we select... So... I am flexible and will go with what works for those with less flexible schedules. BTW... see ya at therapy tonight... it's your turn to buy the donuts! Speaking for everyone... and it is a big group considering how many of us have multiple personalities... welcome to the group! Better make that 4 dozen donuts! edited by dasxb9s on December 22, 2003 | ||
| Roninxb |
Mr. Thunder I would prefer the third Thurdsay of the month. THe first thirsday will not work because that is my mom's bingo night and she will have to drive me to the meeting. I hope ypou are flleing better. | ||
| Shazam |
I hereby cast my vote with the Majority! | ||
| Shazam |
this sounds an awfully lot like someone we know......maybe there's a buck in it after all. syphoned from another board as follows: I never dreamed slowly cruising through a residential neighborhood could be so incredibly dangerous! Studies have shown that motorcycling requires more decisions per second, and more sheer data processing than nearly any other common activity or sport. The reactions and accurate decision making abilities needed have been likened to the reactions of fighter pilots! The consequences of bad decisions or poor situational awareness are pretty much the same for both groups too. Occasionally, as a rider I have caught myself starting to make bad or late decisions while riding. In flight training, my instructors called this being “behind the power curve”. It is a mark of experience that when this begins to happen, the rider recognizes the situation, and more importantly, does something about it. A short break, a meal, or even a gas stop can set things right again as it gives the brain a chance to catch up. Good, accurate, and timely decisions are essential when riding a motorcycle…at least if you want to remain among the living. In short, the brain needs to keep up with the machine. I had been banging around the roads of east Texas and as I headed back into Dallas, found myself in very heavy, high-speed traffic on the freeways. Normally, this is not a problem, I commute in these conditions daily, but suddenly I was nearly run down by a cage that decided it needed my lane more than I did. This is not normally a big deal either, as it happens around here often, but usually I can accurately predict which drivers are not paying attention and avoid them before we are even close. This one I missed seeing until it was nearly too late, and as I took evasive action I nearly broadsided another car that I was not even aware was there! Two bad decisions and insufficient situational awareness…all within seconds. I was behind the power curve. Time to get off the freeway. I hit the next exit, and as I was in an area I knew pretty well, headed through a few big residential neighborhoods as a new route home. As I turned onto the nearly empty streets I opened the visor on my full-face helmet to help get some air. I figured some slow riding through the quiet surface streets would give me time to relax, think, and regain that “edge” so frequently required when riding. Little did I suspect… As I passed an oncoming car, a brown furry missile shot out from under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me. It was a squirrel, and must have been trying to run across the road when it encountered the car. I really was not going very fast, but there was no time to brake or avoid it—it was that close. I hate to run over animals…and I really hate it on a motorcycle, but a squirrel should pose no danger to me. I barely had time to brace for the impact. Animal lovers, never fear. Squirrels can take care of themselves! Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was standing on his hind legs and facing the oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve in his little beady eyes. His mouth opened, and at the last possible second, he screamed and leapt! I am pretty sure the scream was squirrel for, “Banzai!” or maybe, “Die you gravy-sucking, heathen scum!” as the leap was spectacular and he flew over the windshield and impacted me squarely in the chest. Instantly he set upon me. If I did not know better I would have sworn he brought twenty of his little buddies along for the attack. Snarling, hissing, and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of activity. As I was dressed only in a light t-shirt, summer riding gloves, and jeans this was a bit of a cause for concern. This furry little tornado was doing some damage! Picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and leather gloves puttering maybe 25mph down a quiet residential street…and in the fight of his life with a squirrel. And losing. I grabbed for him with my left hand and managed to snag his tail. With all my strength I flung the evil rodent off the left of the bike, almost running into the right curb as I recoiled from the throw. That should have done it. The matter should have ended right there. It really should have. The squirrel could have sailed into one of the pristinely kept yards and gone on about his business, and I could have headed home. No one would have been the wiser. But this was no ordinary squirrel. This was not even an ordinary pissed-off squirrel. This was an evil attack squirrel of death! Somehow he caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands, and with the force of the throw swung around and with a resounding thump and an amazing impact he landed square on my back and resumed his rather anti-social and extremely distracting activities. He also managed to take my left glove with him! The situation was not improved. Not improved at all. His attacks were continuing, and now I could not reach him. I was startled to say the least. The combination of the force of the throw, only having one hand (the throttle hand) on the handlebars, and my jerking back unfortunately put a healthy twist through my right hand and into the throttle. A healthy twist on the throttle of a Valkyrie can only have one result. Torque. This is what the Valkyrie is made for, and she is very, very good at it. The engine roared as the front wheel left the pavement. The squirrel screamed in anger. The Valkyrie screamed in ecstasy. I screamed in…well…I just plain screamed. Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a slightly squirrel torn t-shirt, and only one leather glove roaring at maybe 70mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet residential street…on one wheel and with a demonic squirrel on his back. The man and the squirrel are both screaming bloody murder. With the sudden acceleration I was forced to put my other hand back on the handlebars and try to get control of the bike. This was leaving the mutant squirrel to his own devices, but I really did not want to crash into somebody’s tree, house, or parked car. Also, I had not yet figured out how to release the throttle…my brain was just simply overloaded. I did manage to mash the back brake, but it had little affect against the massive power of the big cruiser. About this time the squirrel decided that I was not paying sufficient attention to this very serious battle (maybe he is a Scottish attack squirrel of death), and he came around my neck and got IN my full-face helmet with me. As the faceplate closed partway and he began hissing in my face I am quite sure my screaming changed tone and intensity. It seemed to have little affect on the squirrel however. The rpm’s on The Dragon maxed out (I was not concerned about shifting at the moment) and her front end started to drop. Now picture the large man on the huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a very ragged torn t-shirt, and wearing one leather glove, roaring at probably 80mph, still on one wheel, with a large puffy squirrel’s tail sticking out his mostly closed full-face helmet. By now the screams are probably getting a little hoarse. Finally I got the upper hand…I managed to grab his tail again, pulled him out of my helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could. This time it worked…sort-of. Spectacularly sort-of, so to speak. Picture the scene. You are a cop. You and your partner have pulled off on a quiet residential street and parked with your windows down to do some paperwork. Suddenly a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a torn t-shirt flapping in the breeze, and wearing one leather glove, moving at probably 80mph on one wheel, and screaming bloody murder roars by and with all his strength throws a live squirrel grenade directly into your police car. I heard screams. They weren't mine... I managed to get the big motorcycle under directional control and dropped the front wheel to the ground. I then used maximum braking and skidded to a stop in a cloud of tire smoke at the stop sign at a busy cross street. I would have returned to fess up (and to get my glove back). I really would have. Really. But for two things. First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit concerned about me at the moment. One of them was on his back in the front yard of the house they had been parked in front of and was rapidly crabbing backwards away from the patrol car. The other was standing in the street and was training a riot shotgun on the police cruiser. So the cops were not interested in me. They often insist to “let the professionals handle it” anyway. That was one thing. The other? Well, I swear I could see the squirrel, standing in the back window of the patrol car among shredded and flying pieces of foam and upholstery, and shaking his little fist at me. I think he was shooting me the finger… That is one dangerous squirrel. And now he has a patrol car… I took a deep breath, turned on my turn-signal, made an easy right turn, and sedately left the neighborhood. As for my easy and slow drive home? Screw it. Faced with a choice of 80mph cars and inattentive drivers, or the evil, demonic, attack squirrel of death...I’ll take my chances with the freeway. Every time. And I’ll buy myself a new pair of gloves. CUAgain, Daniel Meyer My new book, "Life is a Road, the Soul is a Motorcycle" went on sale March 5, 2003. If you enjoy my stories, check out my book. There is a preview of the book here. Back to Motorcycle Stuff | ||
| Tripper |
Ya? so what of it.... | ||
| Dasxb9s |
Ho... Hum... Everyone wants to be me!!! | ||
| X1db |
By me, which personality are you refering to? | ||
| Dasxb9s |
A. Like I have a cucking flue. B. One is assuming that I have met every me that is in my head. C. Huh!!!! D. What!!! E. MY HEAD HURTS... THERE ARE TOO MANY PEOPLE IN HERE!!!! F. Exactly! G. Yes! H. I think I have a split-level head! I. We are busy right now... would you like to leave a message? J. Nanu nanu! K. Normal! What's that????? L. They're coming to take me away Ha Ha!!! M. Scotty... beam me up!!! N. You want to stick what??? Where??? O. There's no place like home... there's no place like home!! P. I'd rather have a bottle in front of me... than a frontal lobotomy!! Q. I am ready for my close-up now Mr. DeVille!! R. Could you repeat everything after... "Pay attention, this is complicated"? S. So... if is starts smoking... that's a bad thing? T. I was going how fast officer??? COOL!!! U. I feel pretty... Oh so pretty!!! V. When I nod my head... hit it!! W. I am trying to think... and nothing is happening!!! X. Don't smash the dwarf... hand me the pliers!!! Y. Hey mom... Watch this!!! Z. Well... it seemed like a neat thing to do at the time!!! | ||
| Gravedigger |
"I don't care how many pieces it is in... I have a shop... a shit load of tools... and a full winter to get it put together." so do I, and that is my intent now that duck season has come to a close! Keith p.s. Can you guys imagine what all the reports that Dennis has to give to his superiors look like??? He must truely be a federal employee and a cop! He sure knows how to write a lengthly report!! LOL | ||
| Dasxb9s |
I work with the biggest bunch of mopes on this planet!!! I try to get everyone in the spirit this morning with a little music... NO DICE! It was sad... no spirit... no one would sing along... no festive dancing! IT WAS LAME! I played two songs... Dayo by Harry Belefonte and... Ice ice baby by Vanilla Ice Can you believe it... no one would sing along... and they all looked at me like I was crazy. ...and if you don't think this really happened... I can give you my supervisor's telephone number... and he will confirm it!!! no shit... what a bunch of mopes!!! edited by dasxb9s on December 23, 2003 | ||
| Gravedigger |
OH YA, One more thing! LOL if you think I am giving up my bike that easily you can . . . .  HAPPY HOLIDAYS! Keith p.s. guess I better be careful before I make an offer like that, don't know if any of his personalities are gay.  |
