Stupid Things Notmybike...has done. Wouldn't you like to be stupid too?

Discussion in 'West – California, the desert southwest and whatev' started by notmybikemodelname, Nov 1, 2011.

  1. herrhelmet

    herrhelmet A Serious Man

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    #21
  2. notmybikemodelname

    notmybikemodelname KOTW is a myth!

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    That's a good story, have another one?
    I was looking for that one earlier :rofl
    #22
  3. scorpion

    scorpion Two arm bandit

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    What's the story with that art on the wall?:clap
    #23
  4. airborndad

    airborndad Long timer

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    One of Robs fingerpaintings of his sister from Kindergarten
    #24
  5. notmybikemodelname

    notmybikemodelname KOTW is a myth!

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    That's a good story, have another one?
    #25
  6. notmybikemodelname

    notmybikemodelname KOTW is a myth!

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    So, one day when I was about 17 I was out riding my Honda CR 125 in an area between Huntington Beach and Costa Mesa called Sheep Hills. My friends and I used to go over there and see if we could outrun the cops as they chased us out. We also used to go over there and smoke pot, drink and then play "BB Gun Warfare". Yep, that's right, shoot each other with BB Guns while high as a kite. Like any war there's always an arms race. What started out with rules, such as no CO2 powered guns and no pumping more than 10 times spiraled into oblivion. Soon gun smugglers were bringing multi shot-piston powered turbo charged fire breathing shrapnel throwing machine gun style pellet guns.

    So as I'm standing there in the cold morning dew and fog that has rolled in off of the Newport river jetty area, taking a piss and minding my own business wiht an Indica joint hanging from my lower lip, suddenly Mike Haglund pops up out of a fox hole, like Charlie the tunnel rat in Vietnam. He takes aim on me and let's a shot fly from his Beamis 220 pellet rifle. I was standing there with my gogles on top of my head because my piss was fogging up my goggles. Instantly I hear the sound of cracking plastic and then see a splat of blood fly onto my goggles. I zip up without pinching little Rob and start chasing after Mike and laying into him with my CO2/Nitrous Oxide powered pistol, in a stream of pellets so solid and long you could walk on them. We all got bloody and picked pellets and BB's from our skin and had another joint and finshed off the bottle of whiskey that Ross Hickock brought from his dad's mini bar and then went home.

    As I was sitting in my living roon with Mike Haglund and my girlfriend, now my wife, my eye began itching like a street walker with crabs. I went into the bathroom and tried to look into my eye but could not see anything. I called my girlfriend in to get a better look. As she looked into my face I saw the looked of "Oh Shit, I'm going to throw up" in her face. Realizing that this was different from the normal throw up look she had when she looked at me, I said ......"what?" She said, "you have a pellet in your eye". Then she said, "not in the eye socket, it's in the white part of your eye..."

    Knowing that my parents would not go to the store and buy me my regular Friday night twelve pack of Henry Weinhard's if they knew this, I talked my sister into going to the hospital with me. We concocted, with great detail that "our parents were in Tahiti and she was my caretaker while they were gone". She stuck to the story when we got to the hospital until the admitting nurse said, " Hi, What's your name". That bitch can't keep a secret. Within ten minutes the police were there because the hospital had to call them for any gun related incident.

    Officer friendly rolled into the room I was in and while the Dr poked and prodded my eye socket like a virgin trying to find the hole for the first time, he porceeded to give me the once over. I told him that I was target shooting in my backyard and that a pellet ricocheted and hit me square in the eye. He said bluntly, "Bullshit, pellets smash when they hit something, they don't ricochet back 180 degrees". I tried to explain to him that it must have ricocheted off about 4 things, 45 degrees at a time. I tmade since to me at the time becuase I was high as a kite.

    Officer friendly left after I would not divulge the truth and the Dr said to me, "well it's going to have to come out". I thought of course it is, we can't leave a pellet in my eye forever. I said "how do you pull it out". He replied, "I just told you, the eye is going to have to come out". Holy Fuck! Immediately I began to decide how I would wear my eye patch and what color would look good on me. Then it hit me, how do you take an eye out?




    Procedures for taking an eye out:
    1. Have the patient lay on his side with his face over a sterile dish that looks like a small bed pan.
    2. Apply a mild sedative to the effected eye.
    3. Tell the patient to close the non-effected eye because he will still be able to see out the effected eye once it has been removed and that can make you sick to your stomach.
    4. Take a untesile that looks like a set of spoons and press them into the sides of the eye socket.
    5. Wait for a slight sucking sound as the eyes is pulled from the socket and air seeps into your eye socket.
    6. Extract pellet from said eye.
    7. Wash eye socket with generous portions of saline solution.
    8. Then take another utensile that looks like a four sided vise grip and use it to gently open the eye socket.
    9. Reinsert eye
    10. Remove utensile
    11. Apply a medicated gel generously to the eye. Not hat kind of gel!
    12. Apply patch.
    13. Proceed to berate patient for being an idiot.
    14. Tell patient your parents are here and they are pissed.
    There goes my Henry Weinhard...............Stupid Dr.

    This was only one of the times in my life that I have had to wear a patch over my eye for an extended period of time.

    This was one of the Stupid Things Notmybike......has done. :clap
    #26
  7. bobzilla

    bobzilla Dirty Old Man

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    YOU arre awesome................i mean an idiot:rofl
    fack dude we need to spend time around the fire with lots of big beers and medical quality organics
    #27
  8. High Country Herb

    High Country Herb Adventure Connoiseur

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    Nice story dude! I once poked a coat hanger in my eye when I was 2 years old. I think it builds character.


    To the guy who found it necessary to post that Hooters pole dancing pic: thanks a lot, man! I may never again be able to eat a hot wing...:puke1
    #28
  9. RAZR

    RAZR u may run the risks my friend but I do the cutting

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    Wilma
    #29
  10. Off Limits

    Off Limits Banned

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    You'll shoot your eye out kid! Pretty gnarly story
    #30
  11. notmybikemodelname

    notmybikemodelname KOTW is a myth!

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    That's a good story, have another one?
    Tomorrow, I have a story of Mexico, yacht racing, alcohol abuse, bad decisions, loud filthy mouthed broads in jacuzzis, Blackhawk Helicopters, 450' guided missile frigates and a pissed off pregnant wife.

    Yes Herrhelmet, that one! You remember.
    #31
  12. Klammer

    Klammer Old and Grumpy

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    Nothing to see, move along.:loco Oh ya, Betty!
    #32
  13. airborndad

    airborndad Long timer

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    that was all on 1 trip :lol3
    #33
  14. notmybikemodelname

    notmybikemodelname KOTW is a myth!

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    That's a good story, have another one?
    In 2005, I did my 20th Newport to Ensenada Yacht Race and my 9th on my boat Allegiance, pictured below.

    This picture was taken about 4pm on the afternoon of this race.

    [​IMG]

    The start day was Friday April 23rd, 2005 and it was like any of the other 19 starts for this race that I've ever done. The crew and I were drunk before we left the dock in Alamitos Bay Marina in Long Beach. In the 24 mile delivery down to Newport we continued to drink and laugh.

    Our start was stellar that day with us leaving the line tied for first. We had noticed that all of the other boats were charging the line high towards the weather committee boat so we hung low on the line realizing that the wind was more Southerly than normal, giving even the low end of the line clear air. We stayed low of the fleet for the rest of the day which gave us the ability to charge high and take up the other boats when the wind switched around to a North Westerly. Just as planned, the wind switched and we spent all day taking boats up and leaving them in our wake of beer filled burps and farts. We felt good and continued to drink.... :freaky

    OK, OK! Let's skip through the next 18 hours to the finish. We finished aorund noon the next day, and continued to drink. We then took a water taxi to shore and continued to drink.....through Sunday into Monday

    Fast forward to Monday morning. As we were leaving Ensenada Harbor my engine was running poorly. So we put up the sails and continued to sail home. I went down inside and pulled the fuel filter and noticed that my fuel was full of water. Just as we were clearing the point next to Hotel Coral and Marina, I realized that I did not feel like sailing home, or maybe I did not feel like the party should end. Afterall, in four more days it would be the weekend. So, I blurted out, "Hey you guys, let's go to the Hotel Coral and get a slip and sit in the jacuzzi, have dinner and drink some more." No one thought that was a bad idea. :clap

    So we arrive in the marina, get a slip and then go to the jacuzzi. :huh There we find some drunk loud mouth bitch and her pussy husband arguing about something. Don't know, don't care. After a while we get sick of hearing the shit, and someone says, "why don't you two shut up or get out". I believe that was my brother. The girl, not the guy starts going crazy and getting in everyone's face. She was drunk and her breath stank like fish and tequila. After about 15 minutes of us taunting her and making fun of him, me not being the one to shut down a good time said to the guy, "why don't you take your loud mouth bitch out of here before we have to drown her". Stuff gets crazy at this point, but someone, maybe me, said, "get her out of here before we tear your arm off and beat her over the head with it". About this time the hotel management showed up and kicked them out of the pool. I believe later we ended up in the inside pool and jacuzzi where somehow all of the furniture ended up in the pool and we got kicked out. I honestly don't think it was us who threw it in though....but I could be wrong, afterall I was drunk.

    So the next morning we wake up from our drunken stupors and I "think" I have the motor fixed, so we leave and head home towards San Diego. Well it turns out the motor was not fixed, but luckily the wind comes up and we have a good 8 knot sail home, once again drinking the whole way. Around 5pm as we near the US border and we're about 15 miles offhsore, one of the crew, Ron Wood (A Pro Rally driver) says, "hey check out that helicopter". Just as he says that a warm whoosh of wind blows past my face coming from the wrong direction and the howl of churning rotor blades breaks the normal sound of a North Westerly. As I peer over my shoulder I spy an airman sitting on the edge of an open Black Hawk helicopter moving along with us and only about 150 feet away. Hte airman was intensely staring at us from his perch. I was thinking, "WOW, we are sailing so awesome that even the Navy wants to get up close and see us". They continue to follow us for about 15 minutes and then that awesomeness is broken by the crackling of our ship to shore radio. Jim (Herrhemet on ADV) says, Hey Rob, I think someone is calling us. He goes below to retrieve the radio and all I hear from Jim is, "This is the vessel Allegiance", then silence. Then I hear, "Yes, he's here". and then silence. Silence is never good. Then Jim says to me, "Hey Rob it's for you". So I'm expecting my mom, or my uncle, or someone selling windows, but not this. I take the radio from Jim and hand over the helm to him and go below so I could hear over the prop wash of the helicopter "Is this Rob Seymour, Skipper of the vessel Allegiance?" I reply, "Yes it is". Then the voice on the other side says, "This is Capt watchamacallit of the USS Guided Missile Frigate something or other. I was thinking, who the hell is fucking with me. Which one of my friends would do this, or even know how to do this, or even break the Maritime law by posing as an officer of the Navy? The only person I knew that could, or would do this was with me. I stared out the hatch to be sure that Jim was not holding another radio. He wasn't.

    So at this point I start shitting my pants. I say cautiously, "how can I help you"? Capt watchamacallit says, "We have received a missing vessel report on your boat and crew, is everything OK?" I say, "yes". He then says like a buddy I stayed out all night drinking with, "Your wife is pissed off and you better call her". OH SHIT!

    So about an hour later we're in cell range and I suck my balls up into my throat and make the call. Here's what I heard. "WHERETHEFUCKAREYOU, WHYTHEFUCKDIDN'TYOUCALLME, YOUKNOWNONEKNOWSWHERETHEHELLYOUARE, WHETHERYOU'REDEADORNOT,SUSANISLOOKINGFORJIMANDSHE'SWORRIEDTODEATHASWELL.
    THENAVYANDCOASTGUARDHAVEBEENLOOKINGFORYOUFORHOURS.
    BOK,BOK,BOK,BOK,BOKBOK,BOK,BOK...........................................................................

    I replied, "we were in Mexico................the engine broke down, so we stayed another night to fix it.................."

    WHYDIDN'TYOUCALLME? YOUDON'TGIVEASHITABOUTME. YOUKNOWPHONESWORKINMEXICOTOO?
    BOK,BOK,BOK,BOK,BOK,BOK,BOK,BOK............................................................

    I had no reply. You know why? Because there's no reasoning with a pregant woman. Yep, my wife was a few months pregant with our first child and the hormones were a flowing, BIG time!

    So in the end, after she setlted down a bit, I said, "Babe, were going to need a ride home from San Diego tonight when we reach port and after we clear customs. So the next thing I hear is "CLICK".

    We arrive into San Diego around midnight and clear customs and get laughed at by the customs officials who knew and had heard about the whole thing. One of them even told me that he hoped my boat was comfortable, because I was going to living on it when my wife dicorced me. It's not comfortable. It's actually been called "the Slave Ship". And this was by a friend of mine (Hoover) who did two years in Boron. He said his jail cell was more comfortable.

    So I summon the courage to make another phone call to my pregnant hormone filled wife at around 12:30 am to ask her to come down to SD to pick us up. :clap

    She begrudgingly agrees, I believe becasue she liked the people I was with and didn't want to see them have to endure my antics any further. But in actuality, I think it was so that she did not have to wait to yell at me some more. She arrives in about 1:30, her mother in tow. That's never good. :eek1

    It took no longer than 30 seconds for us to load up all of the crew's bags in the car, and then I said, "See you all later, I'm staying here". There was no fucken way I was getting in that car with my wife for a 1:30 torture fest all the way back to LB. Jim said that although my wife said not one word on the "trail of tears" drive, my mother-in-law never shut up. :rofl

    This was another stupid thing that NotmyBike....did.
    #34
  15. Barman

    Barman Way Offline

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    So, what you're trying to say is that it would have been a perfect experience if it weren't for the women. :deal


    Go figure. :lol3
    #35
  16. notmybikemodelname

    notmybikemodelname KOTW is a myth!

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    That's a good story, have another one?
    Never thought of it that way, but :clap
    #36
  17. Klammer

    Klammer Old and Grumpy

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    After finishing another grueling 50 mile bike ride from Rosarito to Ensenada in 2005, I found myself in a drunken stooper in front of a street vendor eating a seafood cocktail with a drunk whore in tote. I gave the bitch a few bucks to get a bottle of ta-kill-ya and we stumbled off to my hotel, the "Coral". The ho, not willing to shagg me until she extracts every last dollar from my pocket, says, lets go to the jacuzzi. So there we are, soaking and f--king in the tub when who shows up but these fking drunk sailers, talking shite and disrupting a decent screw. These f--ks are talking so much crap about some race down here and how they kicked everyones ass and I can see their half sunken junk tied up to the slip and beer cases floating all over the place. Now I'm thinking "this isn't going to end well"! Those aholes pissed off my whore so bad that she tossed the contents of her fat belly all over them. I'll leave the contents up to your imagination! Now I'm really pissed, what a waste of good te-kill-ya and my sprunt, so I rip the sack off the only bloke that actually had one and start bashing them in the head with it (sorry Jim). The hotel manager shows up and asks me to stop. Says he'll take care of the f--ks. Sometime later I wake up to a huge headace and my ho is tossing all the furniture off the balcone into the indoor pool those drunks have invaded. That piece of shoot manager didn't have his sack either, so he just moved those aholes to the inside pool. At this point I said F this shit and went back to Anthony's for a new whore and bottle.

    Fuck you Rob, you owe me a bottle and a screw!!!
    #37
  18. notmybikemodelname

    notmybikemodelname KOTW is a myth!

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    That's a good story, have another one?
    :poser

    Hey Rich, the first time I met you I thought you looked familiar. So that's how the whole thing went down? Like I said I was drunk.......................:freaky

    I love Anthony's. Short story.

    So in 2003, as I finished the Ensenada Race, my wife and her friend also named Leslie show up and meet us at the dock when we finished at about midnight. They tell us they found a great bar and had been there all day an night. She drags me and the crew to Anthony's. I had one question, "where was my cut?"
    #38
  19. High Country Herb

    High Country Herb Adventure Connoiseur

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    notmybikemodelname doesn't always drink beer, but when he does, he drinks dos equis...

    :lol3
    #39
  20. herrhelmet

    herrhelmet A Serious Man

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    Stay thirsty my friend...
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    #40