ThirstyBarbarian
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- Feb 11, 2013
- Messages
- 12,249
- Reaction score
- 7,482
My fellow rocketeers, I dont know how many of you have spent time banished into exile, but let me tell you, it aint no picnic.
After the black bag went over my head, I was hauled to the TRF penal colony and tossed into the pit along with the potty-mouths, trolls, and naughty picture posters, the basement bombers and firebugs, the religious zealots and political fanatics, and the worst of the worst --- the spammers!
You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy.
The place was filled with former members sentenced for all sorts of offenses. Most didnt deny what they had done, but after a couple of days a French Canadian showed up who claimed to have done nothing wrong and said he had actually asked to be banned. No one believed it. I told him, What the [bleep] are you talking about? Are you [bleeping] crazy? You must be out of your [bleeping] mind, you [bleeping] [bleepity] [bleep]!
Well, apparently the rules against foul language apply even in TRF prison, because The Captain said something about a failure to communicate and sentenced me to 36 hours in The Box.
The Box was a shed the size of an outhouse, baking in the sun, with a single 100-watt bulb, no air circulation, and a bucket to do your business in. It was at least 400 degrees inside.
It reminded me of the place where I lived before I got married.
After The Box, I was forced to do hard labor --- 18-hour days of filling spirals, spraying primer, and then sanding, and sanding, and sanding, and sanding... Pretty much like a typical Saturday afternoon.
To entertain myself, I would bounce a ball against the wall.
Sometimes, out of boredom, I would eat 50 hard-boiled eggs.
I played football against the guards.
I caught butterflies.
I knew I had to get out or lose my mind. I formed a plan for using a tiny rock hammer to dig an escape tunnel hidden behind a girly poster and smuggling the dirt into the yard in my pants.
But obviously that would never work.
At one point, a woman flashed me and gave me 100 bucks hidden in a book.
Finally, I was able to shoot my way out with the help of a Rocket.
It was quite an experience, and now I will be able to check number 38 off my Bucket List --- get thrown out of a hobby forum.
I want to thank all of you who had nice things to say about me while I was away!
Thanks!
Now I no longer need to do item number 17 on my Bucket List --- fake my own death to see what people will say about me when Im gone.
I read the thread Dave Carver started, and I was really grateful for all of the kind things people said about me. A few members who I am in contact with outside the forum reached out to me by email or social media, and I really appreciate that.
Rocket people are the best!
After the black bag went over my head, I was hauled to the TRF penal colony and tossed into the pit along with the potty-mouths, trolls, and naughty picture posters, the basement bombers and firebugs, the religious zealots and political fanatics, and the worst of the worst --- the spammers!
You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy.
The place was filled with former members sentenced for all sorts of offenses. Most didnt deny what they had done, but after a couple of days a French Canadian showed up who claimed to have done nothing wrong and said he had actually asked to be banned. No one believed it. I told him, What the [bleep] are you talking about? Are you [bleeping] crazy? You must be out of your [bleeping] mind, you [bleeping] [bleepity] [bleep]!
Well, apparently the rules against foul language apply even in TRF prison, because The Captain said something about a failure to communicate and sentenced me to 36 hours in The Box.
The Box was a shed the size of an outhouse, baking in the sun, with a single 100-watt bulb, no air circulation, and a bucket to do your business in. It was at least 400 degrees inside.
It reminded me of the place where I lived before I got married.
After The Box, I was forced to do hard labor --- 18-hour days of filling spirals, spraying primer, and then sanding, and sanding, and sanding, and sanding... Pretty much like a typical Saturday afternoon.
To entertain myself, I would bounce a ball against the wall.
Sometimes, out of boredom, I would eat 50 hard-boiled eggs.
I played football against the guards.
I caught butterflies.
I knew I had to get out or lose my mind. I formed a plan for using a tiny rock hammer to dig an escape tunnel hidden behind a girly poster and smuggling the dirt into the yard in my pants.
But obviously that would never work.
At one point, a woman flashed me and gave me 100 bucks hidden in a book.
Finally, I was able to shoot my way out with the help of a Rocket.
It was quite an experience, and now I will be able to check number 38 off my Bucket List --- get thrown out of a hobby forum.
I want to thank all of you who had nice things to say about me while I was away!
Thanks!
Now I no longer need to do item number 17 on my Bucket List --- fake my own death to see what people will say about me when Im gone.
I read the thread Dave Carver started, and I was really grateful for all of the kind things people said about me. A few members who I am in contact with outside the forum reached out to me by email or social media, and I really appreciate that.
Rocket people are the best!
Last edited by a moderator:
Welcome back. Pay no attention to the black car parked across the street. It's just there to make sure your pets are treated respectably.....
:w:
