Chucked Out!
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- peter
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Chucked Out!
Have you ever been chucked out of anywhere? You know - you got a little bit too leary after the nth pint in the nightclub , you lost your rag in the supermarket or the post-office - and the bouncers were called. C'mon spill the beans; we're not in the judgement business here! We're on your side and any amusement value we might derive from your tale is entirely coincidental and definitely not the purpose of this thread ( )
I'll start by telling the tale of my ignominious ejection from a drinking establishment (there have been two occasions actually, but I'll stick with this one for the moment) - a true Hollywood style 'carried to the doors and thrown out face first into the mud' affair of which I am very proud. I was about nineteen at the time and had been at college for the day (possibly smoking a bit of weed and visiting the pub {a different one} at lunchtime - certainly not doing any lectures or studying) and decided to go to a pub I visited only infrequently with a few mates after the days end. We entered a fairly quiet and rather dismal barroom with iirc only one other patron in residence and a woman in her fifty's serving behind the bar. Ordering our beers we took them to a table and tasting mine, I found it pretty grim drinking. Returning to the bar, I said to the woman "Excuse me. I think this beer's been sitting in the pipes a bit too long - can you pour me another? This was the days when pubs used to close for the afternoon (to get people back to work iirc) and it was not unusual for beer to get a bit stale in the intervening period between lunch and evening services, but nevertheless the woman rounded on me furiously. "What do you mean 'the beer's stale'" she demanded, "The beer is as good as can be. This man (she indicated the other single patron sitting at the bar) is drinking it with no complaints!"
"He won't have a second one!" I replied somewhat huffily, but realising I wasn't going to get anywhere, returned to the table with my friends. Moments later the door to the room flew open and a massive bear of a man stood framed in the doorway. "Who's complaining about the beer!" he demanded, scanning the room with a red face and furious eye.
"I am - it's bloody awful! " I said.
"Right - we'll see about that!" he said, and advancing across the room seized me by the back of the neck, his large hand and vicelike grip brooking no escape. In what seems on recall to have been a single fluid motion he hooked me from my seat, carried me to the front door of the pub and opening it, threw me bodily into the road outside. Picking myself up I immediately turned to return into the fray.......but wisdom and the summary nature of my ejection quickly overthrew my intent and muttering terrible curses as to what I might have done to the man had I returned, I slunk away to lick my wounds.
And there you have it. Not my finest hour I have to say. How I wish I could tell you of how I rolled up my sleeves and horsewhipped the brute to within an inch of his life, but alas it wasn't so. There is no way of getting around it: fair and square, I was chucked out!
I'll start by telling the tale of my ignominious ejection from a drinking establishment (there have been two occasions actually, but I'll stick with this one for the moment) - a true Hollywood style 'carried to the doors and thrown out face first into the mud' affair of which I am very proud. I was about nineteen at the time and had been at college for the day (possibly smoking a bit of weed and visiting the pub {a different one} at lunchtime - certainly not doing any lectures or studying) and decided to go to a pub I visited only infrequently with a few mates after the days end. We entered a fairly quiet and rather dismal barroom with iirc only one other patron in residence and a woman in her fifty's serving behind the bar. Ordering our beers we took them to a table and tasting mine, I found it pretty grim drinking. Returning to the bar, I said to the woman "Excuse me. I think this beer's been sitting in the pipes a bit too long - can you pour me another? This was the days when pubs used to close for the afternoon (to get people back to work iirc) and it was not unusual for beer to get a bit stale in the intervening period between lunch and evening services, but nevertheless the woman rounded on me furiously. "What do you mean 'the beer's stale'" she demanded, "The beer is as good as can be. This man (she indicated the other single patron sitting at the bar) is drinking it with no complaints!"
"He won't have a second one!" I replied somewhat huffily, but realising I wasn't going to get anywhere, returned to the table with my friends. Moments later the door to the room flew open and a massive bear of a man stood framed in the doorway. "Who's complaining about the beer!" he demanded, scanning the room with a red face and furious eye.
"I am - it's bloody awful! " I said.
"Right - we'll see about that!" he said, and advancing across the room seized me by the back of the neck, his large hand and vicelike grip brooking no escape. In what seems on recall to have been a single fluid motion he hooked me from my seat, carried me to the front door of the pub and opening it, threw me bodily into the road outside. Picking myself up I immediately turned to return into the fray.......but wisdom and the summary nature of my ejection quickly overthrew my intent and muttering terrible curses as to what I might have done to the man had I returned, I slunk away to lick my wounds.
And there you have it. Not my finest hour I have to say. How I wish I could tell you of how I rolled up my sleeves and horsewhipped the brute to within an inch of his life, but alas it wasn't so. There is no way of getting around it: fair and square, I was chucked out!
Song of the year. Judy Raindrop. Everyone is a cunt except me.
....and the glory of the world becomes less than it was....
'Have we not served you well'
'Of course - you know you have.'
'Then let it end.'
We are the Bloodguard
....and the glory of the world becomes less than it was....
'Have we not served you well'
'Of course - you know you have.'
'Then let it end.'
We are the Bloodguard
- Cagliostro
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Nope - not me. Only self-chucked, really. There was one occasion where the bar wouldn't let anybody in with a t-shirt that wasn't tucked in. I guess untucked was a gang thing at the time. I was with several other ladies that I didn't really know, and forced the group to go to another dance club because I found it so ridiculous. I'm someone who sweats, and after dancing (and this was in Tucson), I'll be bathed in sweat. Without some air underneath the shirt, I know it would have been super uncomfortable.
We ended up at another bar that then became my favorite dance place.
I guess the nearest thing was a friend chucked for fighting. Because of me. I dance pretty freeform and swing my arms around a lot when there is room for it. I used to not pay as much attention as I do now, and this incident is probably the reason why. I was dancing, and apparently I almost clocked this guy's girlfriend in my obliviousness. So rather than come over to me to fight with me, he went over to my friends and started telling them that I almost hit his girlfriend. They didn't take the crap from this guy, and I think one of my friends was asked to leave, and I went with, of course. I still find it odd that this guy didn't talk to me directly, as I would have apologized all over myself as I have done a few times when I have actually made contact with others. I was a lanky, skinny thing in those days, and despite being 6'2", I don't think I was ever very intimidating. Pretty much everyone I ever dated thought I was gay when we first met. Which isn't to say there aren't intimidating gay men, but this is Kansas in the 1980s, if you catch my drift.
We ended up at another bar that then became my favorite dance place.
I guess the nearest thing was a friend chucked for fighting. Because of me. I dance pretty freeform and swing my arms around a lot when there is room for it. I used to not pay as much attention as I do now, and this incident is probably the reason why. I was dancing, and apparently I almost clocked this guy's girlfriend in my obliviousness. So rather than come over to me to fight with me, he went over to my friends and started telling them that I almost hit his girlfriend. They didn't take the crap from this guy, and I think one of my friends was asked to leave, and I went with, of course. I still find it odd that this guy didn't talk to me directly, as I would have apologized all over myself as I have done a few times when I have actually made contact with others. I was a lanky, skinny thing in those days, and despite being 6'2", I don't think I was ever very intimidating. Pretty much everyone I ever dated thought I was gay when we first met. Which isn't to say there aren't intimidating gay men, but this is Kansas in the 1980s, if you catch my drift.
Life is a waste of time
Time is a waste of life
So get wasted all of the time
And you'll have the time of your life
- peter
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The other time was not nearly so easily gotten over in my case. I fell out with the DJ in a local nightclub (drink had been taken!) and as Av puts it, felt the steely grip on my arm propelling me towards the door. There was a flight of steps leading down to the exit and as I was guided toward these, said DJ came up behind me and pushed me down 'em. Twelve weeks later I could walk again, the multiple breaks and torn ligaments having healed! Only last week I suffered the most awful bout of rheumatism in the leg (brought on by a spell of particularly inclement weather) some forty plus years later. Ah, the folly of youth!
Song of the year. Judy Raindrop. Everyone is a cunt except me.
....and the glory of the world becomes less than it was....
'Have we not served you well'
'Of course - you know you have.'
'Then let it end.'
We are the Bloodguard
....and the glory of the world becomes less than it was....
'Have we not served you well'
'Of course - you know you have.'
'Then let it end.'
We are the Bloodguard
- High Lord Tolkien
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My friends and I (but especially me) were asked (that's true, the bouncer was laughing a little too) to leave a strip club after I tossed a nickel between a strippers legs.
And when I say "stripper" I could easily have also said "dragon".
Guys were paying her to put her clothes back on I think.
She was not happy with my review of her performance and started screaming at me.
That was maybe 20 years ago and to this day if one of my friends that was there mentions that night we bust out laughing.
And when I say "stripper" I could easily have also said "dragon".
Guys were paying her to put her clothes back on I think.
She was not happy with my review of her performance and started screaming at me.
That was maybe 20 years ago and to this day if one of my friends that was there mentions that night we bust out laughing.
https://thoolah.blogspot.com/
[Defeated by a gizmo from Batman's utility belt]
Joker: I swear by all that's funny never to be taken in by that unconstitutional device again!
[Defeated by a gizmo from Batman's utility belt]
Joker: I swear by all that's funny never to be taken in by that unconstitutional device again!
- Damelon
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A long time ago, a group of 7 or 8 of us got a limo and went down to a WCW Wrestling event at the United Center, in Chicago. We were sitting in the front of the mezzanine. Anyway, a couple of my buddies, very large men, started play acting, picking up folding chairs and pretending to bash them over each other’s heads. The moms who had brought their little boys were horrified and the group was asked by UC security to leave. Of course alcohol was involved. That was the reason we got a limo in the first place.
- Fist and Faith
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If you haven't seen this, it's five of the funniest minutes every
Ron White gets thrown out of a bar.
Ron White gets thrown out of a bar.
All lies and jest
Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest -Paul Simon
Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest -Paul Simon
- peter
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I was chucked out of the boy scouts (you know - that Baden-Powell inspired organisation where you do all kinds of outdoor activities and crafts etc) for gross insubordination.
I'd spent a holiday at home doing the annual 'bob-a-job' fund raising exercise in which you performed services for your neighbours and friend's parents etc, and were paid traditionally a shilling for your efforts. Not unusually, you were used as what amounted to slave labour and even at the tender age of twelve I can remember the sting of resentment at receiving a miserable shilling for having been used as a dray-horse in the sweltering sun, humping garden refuse all morning - and being expected to be grateful for it. It is most probably where the root of my socialist inclinations lie.
But I digress.
At the end of the holiday, I'd collected about a pound, representing around twenty such mornings of labour and returning to school (boarding school) the day came around of our first scout's meeting of the term, when we were due to turn over our earnings to the treasurer of our group. At the end of school and just prior to the meeting, I went to my dormitory to change into my uniform and collect my earnings. I looked at my uniform on the bed. I looked at the pound in my hand. And the decision was made. The uniform was stuffed back into the locker and I was headed down to the tuck-shop before you could say bob's your uncle.
Messages came to me via the other scouts over the next few weeks that I was expected down in the scout hut with my bob-a-job money forthwith, but it wasn't happening. I'd learned a basic lesson of life that working to put money in someone else's pocket was for the birds - the more so if you had been exploited in the earning thereof. After a time, the rather limp and surplus to requirements message reached me that I had been drummed out of the scouts (no doubt in shame and ignominy) in my absence. It was like the idle wind which I regarded not. I was happy in my disreputable condition and comfortably sticky with the presence of illicit toffee in my stomach.
I'd spent a holiday at home doing the annual 'bob-a-job' fund raising exercise in which you performed services for your neighbours and friend's parents etc, and were paid traditionally a shilling for your efforts. Not unusually, you were used as what amounted to slave labour and even at the tender age of twelve I can remember the sting of resentment at receiving a miserable shilling for having been used as a dray-horse in the sweltering sun, humping garden refuse all morning - and being expected to be grateful for it. It is most probably where the root of my socialist inclinations lie.
But I digress.
At the end of the holiday, I'd collected about a pound, representing around twenty such mornings of labour and returning to school (boarding school) the day came around of our first scout's meeting of the term, when we were due to turn over our earnings to the treasurer of our group. At the end of school and just prior to the meeting, I went to my dormitory to change into my uniform and collect my earnings. I looked at my uniform on the bed. I looked at the pound in my hand. And the decision was made. The uniform was stuffed back into the locker and I was headed down to the tuck-shop before you could say bob's your uncle.
Messages came to me via the other scouts over the next few weeks that I was expected down in the scout hut with my bob-a-job money forthwith, but it wasn't happening. I'd learned a basic lesson of life that working to put money in someone else's pocket was for the birds - the more so if you had been exploited in the earning thereof. After a time, the rather limp and surplus to requirements message reached me that I had been drummed out of the scouts (no doubt in shame and ignominy) in my absence. It was like the idle wind which I regarded not. I was happy in my disreputable condition and comfortably sticky with the presence of illicit toffee in my stomach.
Song of the year. Judy Raindrop. Everyone is a cunt except me.
....and the glory of the world becomes less than it was....
'Have we not served you well'
'Of course - you know you have.'
'Then let it end.'
We are the Bloodguard
....and the glory of the world becomes less than it was....
'Have we not served you well'
'Of course - you know you have.'
'Then let it end.'
We are the Bloodguard
- Fist and Faith
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- Fist and Faith
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- Avatar
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I don't mind it, but can't eat much at a time. Too sweet.
Toffee is this rock-hard, incredibly adhesive stuff. Kind of stuff that pulls out your fillings. It is butter and sugar (and god knows what else) but it's no fun to eat. Tastes a bit weird too, although also sorta caramel-like in a sense.
Not the person to ask really since I don't eat it.
--A
Toffee is this rock-hard, incredibly adhesive stuff. Kind of stuff that pulls out your fillings. It is butter and sugar (and god knows what else) but it's no fun to eat. Tastes a bit weird too, although also sorta caramel-like in a sense.
Not the person to ask really since I don't eat it.
--A
- Fist and Faith
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Maybe made a little different. Our toffee is too crunchy to pull out fillings. We do that with Bit-O-Honey and Mary Jane (among other things, that's a candy). I've personally lost fillings.
Werther's is excellent toffee. Heath Bar is a bar of toffee covered in chocolate.
Werther's is excellent toffee. Heath Bar is a bar of toffee covered in chocolate.
All lies and jest
Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest -Paul Simon
Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest -Paul Simon
i haven't ever been actually "chucked" out of anywhere, however, i have been carried out. literally carried. lol
at a bar with some friends where some other musicians i knew were playing a couple sets of cover rock. it was a wine and beer only bar, no hard liquor and i didn't care for either wine or beer
so i went across the street for a couple shots of bourbon then came back. whereupon one of the girls i was with gave me a pill and said try this. stupidly, i did. it turned out to be Mellaril
which is an antipsychotic used to treat schizophrenia or was used for that at the time, i haven't kept up on my pharmacopeia!! LOL!!
so we're sitting there on the front row in front of the band, it was just a dive bar with tables and chairs and the stage was about 8 feet from where we were sitting and it was only about a
2 foot tall stage with a wall behind it that only went halfway across the width of the room. i tell you that so you can envision what happened next.
i didn't get "spinny" or sick or anything but i began to notice that my motor functions weren't really working properly. i couldn't lift my glass of soda pop to take a drink. i really couldn't even grasp the glass much less lift it.
and i had a hard time turning my head to my friend to say something was very wrong!! lol
i finally got it across that i was unable to push off the chair or walk or anything...but i was perfectly clear. i knew what was going on i just had no motor function control!!!
so when the set ended the band went behind the wall in back of the stage to go out the back door of the bar to smoke and whatnot.
my friends got on either side of me and got me underneath the arms and hoisted me up. i TRIED to walk but legs were not working.
so they RAN with me toward the stage and the back wall and they spun me around the back wall and promptly DROPPED ME onto the floor...where the entire band was standing.
looking down at me.
incapacitated but perfectly lucid.
there was much snickering and chiding.
"nice job getting trashed by the end of the first set Snyder"
is the one i remember most. lol.
my friends picked me up and carried me across the street to another
friend's house and put me to bed and i woke up fine the next morning.
but i never lived it down.
moral of the story, never do drugs you don't know what they are.
also, never imagine Mellaril is a recreational high. it is not.
at a bar with some friends where some other musicians i knew were playing a couple sets of cover rock. it was a wine and beer only bar, no hard liquor and i didn't care for either wine or beer
so i went across the street for a couple shots of bourbon then came back. whereupon one of the girls i was with gave me a pill and said try this. stupidly, i did. it turned out to be Mellaril
which is an antipsychotic used to treat schizophrenia or was used for that at the time, i haven't kept up on my pharmacopeia!! LOL!!
so we're sitting there on the front row in front of the band, it was just a dive bar with tables and chairs and the stage was about 8 feet from where we were sitting and it was only about a
2 foot tall stage with a wall behind it that only went halfway across the width of the room. i tell you that so you can envision what happened next.
i didn't get "spinny" or sick or anything but i began to notice that my motor functions weren't really working properly. i couldn't lift my glass of soda pop to take a drink. i really couldn't even grasp the glass much less lift it.
and i had a hard time turning my head to my friend to say something was very wrong!! lol
i finally got it across that i was unable to push off the chair or walk or anything...but i was perfectly clear. i knew what was going on i just had no motor function control!!!
so when the set ended the band went behind the wall in back of the stage to go out the back door of the bar to smoke and whatnot.
my friends got on either side of me and got me underneath the arms and hoisted me up. i TRIED to walk but legs were not working.
so they RAN with me toward the stage and the back wall and they spun me around the back wall and promptly DROPPED ME onto the floor...where the entire band was standing.
looking down at me.
incapacitated but perfectly lucid.
there was much snickering and chiding.
"nice job getting trashed by the end of the first set Snyder"
is the one i remember most. lol.
my friends picked me up and carried me across the street to another
friend's house and put me to bed and i woke up fine the next morning.
but i never lived it down.
moral of the story, never do drugs you don't know what they are.
also, never imagine Mellaril is a recreational high. it is not.
you're more advanced than a cockroach,
have you ever tried explaining yourself
to one of them?
~ alan bates, the mothman prophecies
i've had this with actors before, on the set,
where they get upset about the [size of my]
trailer, and i'm always like...take my trailer,
cause... i'm from Kentucky
and that's not what we brag about.
~ george clooney, inside the actor's studio
a straight edge for legends at
the fold - searching for our
lost cities of gold. burnt tar,
gravel pits. sixteen gears switch.
Haphazard Lucy strolls by.
~ dennis r wood ~
have you ever tried explaining yourself
to one of them?
~ alan bates, the mothman prophecies
i've had this with actors before, on the set,
where they get upset about the [size of my]
trailer, and i'm always like...take my trailer,
cause... i'm from Kentucky
and that's not what we brag about.
~ george clooney, inside the actor's studio
a straight edge for legends at
the fold - searching for our
lost cities of gold. burnt tar,
gravel pits. sixteen gears switch.
Haphazard Lucy strolls by.
~ dennis r wood ~
- peter
- The Gap Into Spam
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Had a similar experience with tunol (don't think they make it anymore - couldn't find it on Google) once. It was a drug - probably an antipsychotic of some kind - that had the effect of removing all of ones inhibitions......
Like all of them.
Like the ones that stop you from telling your best mate that her new dress looks like somebody vomited on her chest. Or the hell's angel at the end of the bar that he reminds you of your grandmother - only uglier.
And you do it without either fear or even understanding that what you are saying might get you into trouble, that it might be offensive.
I came out lightly. A couple of near fights and a banning from the premises of my old school (I was what, sixteen, when I did this). That and getting thrown out of my technical college (I'd probably have been chucked out anyway [see what I did there ], but it just brought it forward a bit). Anyways, I consider that I got off lightly.
Just as a pointer, these are three coloured capsules, blue, turquoise and orange. If anyone offers you any of these mothers...... run a mile!
Song of the year. Judy Raindrop. Everyone is a cunt except me.
....and the glory of the world becomes less than it was....
'Have we not served you well'
'Of course - you know you have.'
'Then let it end.'
We are the Bloodguard
....and the glory of the world becomes less than it was....
'Have we not served you well'
'Of course - you know you have.'
'Then let it end.'
We are the Bloodguard