IGX

I once nearly sent tranny porn to my mother in law on accident.

nafod wrote:

Pinky wrote:When I was 21 I had a mugger sneak up behind me and smash his forearm into my larynx. I don't know if he tightened I to a choke because I was out immediately. I was then kicked and stomped on. My face looked like Freddie Krueger's when I woke up. I spent three days in the hospital with a concussion and smashed larynx. I also suffered a broken rib, but that wasn't noticed for a while. I spent the next month or so being scanned and examined by specialists who were trying to decide if my larynx needed to be stapled back together or not.

Where were you? Bad part of town? College campus?

A bad neighborhood in Chicago.

My stories don't compare to most so I'm going to keep my short. Had a gun pulled on me and put in my face and I stared down a massive car doing about 70. How he missed me I'll never know. I tried to drown him when I caught him.

1) When I was a littl'un, I was at summer camp, doing a ropes course -- I always hated those fucking things. I'm not good with exposed heights. Up in an airplane? No problem, there's an airplane between me and the void's yawning maw. Ask me to stand at the edge of a ten foot diving board? Ima run through you like Gossamer runs through doors.

Anyway, we're doing the ropes course, and I slipped off one of the obstacles, and the ropes managed to get twisted around my neck, totally cutting off my air. (It turned out that the dude responsible for putting on the safety harness had fucked up.) I immediately went into a blurred-out semi-conscious state (which was probably just sheer terror; I've had chokes applied in judo plenty of times, but without the added frisson of imminent death it just didn't have the same effect), fighting and clawing to get a breath. One of the counselors raced over to me and hauled me up. I have no idea how long I wasn't breathing; I never lost consciousness, but it felt like forever. I still have very faint scars on the sides of my neck from the rope burn.

2) I drove drunk plenty of times. Sobering up after doing a five-hour drive at 90 mph while shitfaced was what finally convinced me to get some help.

NFW to compete with this shit...ill-advised fisticuffs, chasing ever more speed, women and mixing benzos and opiates is nothing to wear on your lapel.

To those that nearly got dead for your country or your community. Kudos...even if some of you were filthy Snortpigcopfucks.

Dan Martin wrote:I've been married 35 years.

That's a long time at death's door.

Dan Martin wrote:I've been married 35 years.

and this one time, my wife came home early and walked in on me with ................ And.......and another............ And we were..........

Blaidd Drwg wrote:

Dan Martin wrote:I've been married 35 years.

That's a long time at death's door.

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ji01gRYQcHo[/youtube]

Jonny Canuck wrote:

Dan Martin wrote:I've been married 35 years.

and this one time, my wife came home early and walked in on me with ................ And.......and another............ And we were..........

This could be a decent mad lib.

I too rode in on another paratroopers canopy.Watched my main collapse as I was on my back laying on his.Rolled off to deploy my reserve and burned into the ground about thirty feet.The trick is to be harder than the ground its self(Yuck, yuck).

About 15 years ago i used to shut myself in with a plate of cocaine, a handle of Jack and a carton of Reds .While sitting at a small kitchen table under a single bare lightbulb , snorting obscene huge lines till my left arm would go numb.Then do more.
It was the worst time of my life.

Out of the nasty things I've experienced the most scared I've ever been was sitting in the doctor's office waiting to find out if my wife had breast cancer. Once we got the all clear I stood in the parking lot hugging her and crying with relief.

Lots of times. Nothing unusual, though. Do remember being calm and figuring this is it.

Not a near death experience but it was the first time I regretted not being a gun owner. We were on our way back from a family reunion last night in the middle of a huge thunderstorm. We were on a remote access road that was blocked by several fallen trees (some of them had a 2-4 foot diameter).

We were about 1/2 mile from the highway when we see a guy walking in the middle of butt fuck nowhere in shorts with no shirt in a 60mile an hour wind and thunderstorm. I have the misses and my 3 year old in he car and I mention to the wife that I don't have a good feeling about this. Right after we pass him, we get caught behind a massive tree blocking the road.

I grab by daughters blanket and put it on my wife's lap and tell her to pretend like she has a gun under it.

I get out of my car, a Prius (not the most intimidating vehicle), and try to break off part of one of the trees to try and drive past it. I then notice that there are about 4 other trees blocking the road about a quarter mile up. By this time, shirtless guy is right behind my car, I approach him and notice he has a huge swastika tattoo over his heart.

I knew he wasn't packing since he had no shirt on but I wasn't sure if he had a knife. I was a couple inches taller and at least 50 pounds heavier than him. I started talking to him and noticed a bunch of shitty prison caliber tattoos covering his body. He was sizing me up and checking out who was in the car. I wasn't sure what to do at this part so I took another step toward him and he flinched. I figured I was good at that point so I bullshitted with him for another minute and then got back in the car. We backtracked another 300 yards and had to move a smaller tree that was blocking us in.

Finally got home 2 hours later after passing multiple trees on the road, a couple forest fires, and numerous power outages.

*edit* Sorry, near death pic died.

Okay I've resisted posting in this shitty thread because this stuff is rather personal and some things should be kept quiet because if there is someone somewhere keeping score and they let you slide on some shit that could have killed you, there may be some resentment for talking about it. But I have one with a somewhat happy ending.

So I'm 18 living in western Kansas, where I grew up, and while I was at work a crazy fucking blizzard blew in. If any of you are from the plains states you know what I'm talking about...nearly zero visibility, 30-40 mph constant winds, below freezing temp which makes the wind chill well, fucking outrageous. I'm just wearing this bullshit jacket not realizing what was happening to the weather. I've got a bit of a drive to get home so at the end of my work day which was around 7:00 p.m. or so I take off. I'm out on a country road with absolutely almost complete white-out. Very stupid of me to leave. So I'm creeping along on the road and BAM I plow right into a snow drift and I'm kinda high centered on the drift. I've got no flashlight, no shovel, nothing...I'm driving a '67 Ford Fairlane. I fuck around for a little bit on my hands and knees digging at the snow with my hands. I get nowhere with this and I was working up a bit of a sweat and now I'm kinda soaked. I don't really freak out too much but then it dawned on me that I'm kinda fucked
here. So I made the decision to start walking down the road. Funny how you can drive the same fucking way for years but can't remember a goddamn thing about where shit is at along the road. I knew a farm house was along the way but I wasn't certain wether or not I'd passed it. I was in pretty good shape because I was leaving for boot camp in about a month so I'd been running and doing some bodyweight shit. Well this little fucking adventure turns to liquid shit real fast. I am fucking freezing and it starts creeping into my head that I'm gonna be one of THOSE guys that fucking dies walking somewhere when just maybe I should have stayed in the car. So right when it's getting sorta weird like I'm not certain how this is going to play out I see a little bit of a light from off the road. Oh, did I forgot to mention I'm wearing a pair of Chuck Taylors on this walkabout. I make my way up to the front of the house and pound on the door and within a moment or two the door opens and it's an elderly woman...wearing a NUN'S HABIT!!! I shit you not I had stumbled to the house where the nuns at the local Catholic church lived. They where just about the most awesome ladies ever. They immediately had me come in, ushered me into to bathroom and had me take off my clothes so they could dry them and gave me a big heavy robe to put on and a cup of tea while I sat next to stove to warm up. Waited awhile for the storm to blow over and called my FIL to come and get me...yeah I was that guy too, married at 18 with a kid. They fed me and after awhile he swung by in a 4 wheel drive farm truck and off I went. We pulled the car out of the drift which was still in the middle of the road and he plowed the way home. Those nuns were awesome though.

Great story Shape. All these stories are remarkable. Keep 'em coming.

Gary & EZ remind me that being skeered played no part in my near death experiences, although I've been afraid many times.
In my parachute incident, I was totally focused on my immediate actions (Thank you, A Co. Fascist 2/75 Jumpmasters, for your in depth briefings).
In my fires, I was not clued-in enough to know how bad things were.

Yeah Johno,
Fear arises out of ignorance. Practice something enough, and, in the bad situation, you will do what you've learned. If you don't have any experience, you panic. Simple as that.

Tim, yes. There was always something to do to occupy my mind.
OTOH, when my wife had to have an emergency C section....not my best day.

C-section, no experience. Your own wife. Man, THAT is a panic situation.

Around 9 years old I slipped out of the seat on a Carnival swinging maching, was hanging by the chains, my uncle managed to get himself over to me and grab on until a lady pulled the plug on the machine. The attendent never noticed.

At 14, Had a crackhead came at me with a broken bottle. Kicked him in the throat. Not the best way to deal with a sharp weapon but it worked that night. Martial Arts, Fuck Yeah!
At 15 I got shot at on the Ft. Lauderdale strip one night. Hispanic yelling and popping off a small calire auto at me and a few other headbangers from about 40 feet away. One hit a masonry wall about a foot from me. We ran like Hell!

At 16 I got thrown out of a car, hit my feet and bounced up and came down on my face. Busted my cheekbones, ppushed in my nose, broke my upper jaw and shoved my 4 front teeth into my sinuses.

Later that year I had to run from a knife.

At 18 I had a few close calls as a RSO at an indoor range. People doing the "I think it's jammed." as they swing the fucking muzzle at you. I took guns away before I really knew how to do it twice, two other times I pinned their arm against the divider. Had an MP-5 get away from some dumb bitch once as well. Grabbing the top of the barrel of a full auto sub gun really fucking burns. But it takes a second to realise it through the shock of what just went down. I loved that job though.

At 19 I got robbed at gunpoint.

Real big brawl at 21. Nothing more to say about it.

A few near misses on the road and on construction jobs since.
At 20 I almost fell off a steel beam, while being a fucking show off and walking across it while carrying a chain. Was doing great and the chain shifted and I started to lean to the side, I dropped the chain and somehow ended up in a squat, with both hands on the beam. I got my ass chewed by my Boss.

Have told you about my mother in laws cooking?