Boys will be Boys

[GoodOlBoy]

Boys will be Boys



Around age 10 my dad got me one of those little badass long
bow beginner kits. Of course, the first month I went around
our land sticking arrows in anything that could get stuck by
an arrow. Did you know that a 1955 40horse Farmall tractor
will take 6 rounds before it goes down? Tough SOB.

That got boring, so being the 10 yr. old Dukes of Hazard
fan that I was, I quickly advanced to taking strips of cut
up T-shirt doused in chainsaw gas tied around the end and
was sending flaming arrows all over the place. Keep in mind
this was 99.999% humidity swampland so there really
wasn't any fire danger. Ill put it this way- a set of
post hole diggers and a 3ft. hole and you had yourself a
well.

One summer afternoon, I was shooting flaming arrows into a
large rotten oak stump in our backyard. I looked over under
the carport and see a shiny brand new can of starting fluid
(ether). The light bulb went off. I grabbed the can and set
it on the stump. I thought that it would probably just spray
out in a disappointing manner... let's face it to a 10
yr. old mouth-breather like myself ether really doesn't
"sound" flammable. So, I went back into the house
and got a 1 pound can of dads muzzleloader pyrodex . At this
point, I set the can of ether on the stump and opened up the
can of black powder. My intentions were to sprinkle a little
bit around the ether can but it all sorta dumped out on me.
No biggie... 1lb pyrodex and 16oz ether should make a loud
pop, kinda like a firecracker you know? You know what? Heck
with that. I'm going back in the house for the other can. Yes, I got a
second can of pyrodex and dumped it too.


Now we're cookin'. I stepped back about 15ft and
lit the 2 stroke arrow. I drew the nock to my cheek and let
fly. As I released I heard a swish as the arrow launched
from my bow. In a slow motion time frame, I turned to see my
dad getting out of the truck... OH CRAP he just got home
from work. So help me God it took 10 minutes for that arrow
to go from my bow to the can. My dad was walking towards me
in slow motion with a WTF look in his eyes. I turned back
towards my target just in time to see the arrow pierce the
starting fluid can right at the bottom. Right through the
main pile of pyrodex and into the can. Oh. Hell. When the
shock wave hit it knocked me off my feet. I don't know
if it was the actual compression wave that threw me back or
just reflex jerk back from 235 MF'n decibels of sound. I
caught a half a millisecond glimpse of the
violence during the initial explosion and I will tell you
there was dust, grass, and bugs all hovering 1ft above the
ground as far as I could see.

It was like a little low to the ground layer of dust fog
full of grasshoppers, spiders, and a crawfish or two. The
daylight turned purple. Let me repeat this... THE DAMN
DAYLIGHT TURNED PURPLE. There was a big sweetgum tree out by
the gate going into the pasture. Notice I said
"was". That mother got up and ran off. So here I
am, on the ground blown completely out of my shoes with my
thundercats T-shirt shredded, my dad is on the other side of
the carport having what I can only assume is a Vietnam
flashback ECHO BRAVO CHARLIE YOUR BRINGIN' EM IN TOO
CLOSE!! CEASE FIRE DAMIT CEASE FIRE!!!!!

His hat has blown off and is 30 ft. behind him in the
driveway. All windows on the north side of the house are
blown out and there is a slow rolling mushroom cloud about
2000ft over our backyard. There
is a Honda 185s 3 wheeler parked on the other side of the
yard and the fenders are drooped down and are now touching
the tires. I wish I knew what I said to my dad at this
moment. I don't know- I know I said something. I
couldn't hear. I couldn't hear inside my own head. I
don't think he heard me either... not that it would
really matter. I don't remember much from this point on.
I said something, felt a sharp pain, and then woke up later.
I felt a sharp pain, blacked out, woke later.... repeat this
process for an hour or so and you get the idea. I remember
at one point my mom had to give me CPR so dad could beat me
some more.

Bring him back to life so dad can kill him again. Thanks
mom. One thing is for sure... I never had to mow around that
stump again. Mom had been bitching about that thing for
years and dad never did anything about it. I stepped up to
the plate and handled business. Dad sold his muzzleloaders a
week or so later. And I still
have some sort of bone growth abnormality either from the
blast or the beating. Or both. I guess what I'm trying
to say is, get your kids into archery. Its good discipline
and will teach them skills they can use later on in life

:D

GoodOlBoy

[skeet]

Boys will be Boys


So, I went back into the house
and got a 1 pound can of dads muzzleloader pyrodex . At this
point, I set the can of ether on the stump and opened up the
can of black powder. My intentions were to sprinkle a little
bit around the ether can but it all sorta dumped out on me.
No biggie... 1lb pyrodex and 16oz ether should make a loud
pop, kinda like a firecracker you know? You know what? Heck
with that. I'm going back in the house for the other can. Yes, I got a
second can of pyrodex and dumped it too.


Now we're cookin'. I stepped back about 15ft and
lit the 2 stroke arrow. I drew the nock to my cheek and let
fly. As I released I heard a swish as the arrow launched
from my bow. In a slow motion time frame, I turned to see my
dad getting out of the truck... OH CRAP he just got home
from work. So help me God it took 10 minutes for that arrow
to go from my bow to the can. My dad was walking towards me
in slow motion with a WTF look in his eyes. I turned back
towards my target just in time to see the arrow pierce the
starting fluid can right at the bottom. Right through the
main pile of pyrodex and into the can. Oh. Hell. When the
shock wave hit it knocked me off my feet. I don't know
if it was the actual compression wave that threw me back or
just reflex jerk back from 235 MF'n decibels of sound. I
caught a half a millisecond glimpse of the
violence during the initial explosion and I will tell you
there was dust, grass, and bugs all hovering 1ft above the
ground as far as I could see.

. So here I
am, on the ground blown completely out of my shoes with my
thundercats T-shirt shredded, my dad is on the other side of
the carport having what I can only assume is a Vietnam
flashback ECHO BRAVO CHARLIE YOUR BRINGIN' EM IN TOO
CLOSE!! CEASE FIRE DAMIT CEASE FIRE!!!!!


:D

GoodOlBoy

Hahahahahahahahahaha:cool::cool:

reminds me of the crude nitro my cousin and I made. His father was a chemistry teacher. We had access to all sorts of stuff. Nytric acid. Sulfuric acid Glycerine. made up some concoction. We tried setting some off with fire

NOTHING!!!!??? Did I say he was a bit older than me and supposedly smarter??
We were both dumber than sticks...but as GOB said .... Boys...well we tired of messing with the stuff. What to do with it?? Well we just couldn't throw it out..so we took the bottle and put it in an old outhouse behind the barn.. Only 3 or 4 ounces left any way. Well being kinda hot summer day time of the year bout 2 hours later..his father had us workin in the garden..him too of course. All of a sudden there was a big ol explosion. an OHMIGOD...There was stuff flyin every where. Little tiny bits of wood dirt grass. That ol outhouse wasn't nothin but toofpicks. As GOB said after him tryin to kill us repeatedly...my cousin then me then him again..well you get the picture... Unk actually sold us into bondage(I know about slavery first hand)to the farmer accross the road. We picked gherkin pickles one day and cantaloupes the next. This slavery went on for most of a week...till I got to go home....to an even worse existence. Being a boy sure was hard werk!!:rolleyes::confused::D

[buckhunter]

My brother got a long bow when he was about 8 or 9. I promply stuck a arror in his legg. Yep I got those pains also.

Then there was the time I tied baloons around my arms and jumped off the garage. No pains but still hear about it.

Boys will be boys.

[mikes334]

I think when you are younger you have to do some crazy thing to earn your life badges.

[skeet]

I had a friend up the street...we even rigged up a telegraph tween our houses. Well we made and flew a bunch of kites..mostly small ones but ever now and agin we'd make a big'un Some with more'n a mile of string... Well one fine April we made a hell of a big Box Kite..It was really blowin.. We went to the lumber yard and got some unsellable stuff off'n the pile. Made up a heck of a kite. We were aeronautic injuneers. The blasted thing was large..realy large and it actually flew. I had gotten some of my fathers crab trot line. Anyway..we had another kid helping us...a little kid..No more than bout 40 lbs. This was a big kite..Big..It flew really well... So we rigged up a seat..yep..we got the kid in..didn't even have to tie him in. He wasn't the smartest kid..or so we thought.. We got the kite up on a barn roof.. with the kid in it..He almost trusted us. Well I pitched him off. The kite started to fly...and the kid bailed out...DAAAUUUUMMM just when we were going pretty good at it too. Couldn't get him within 100 ft of it after that. That kid is still alive..I know cause I saw him not long ago.. And he still gives me an that other fellow a bit of a wide berth. We were on the verge of startin another AIrline..Good ol Fly and Die Airlines Ya know that kid worked for the CIA in later years. Surprised he never had us kilt!