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Ok, I admit I'm bored...Regardless, this is somewhat funny.. ~Enjoy~

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1onS9MgfmCI

Nice.

That is extreme fishing! GREAT....

i hope they stay out of the local water ways here! between that and the snake head i think all freshwater fishing is in jeoprdy

Life as a child growing up in Texas ....

Around age 10 my dad got me one of those little bad ass compound 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 40 horse Farmall tractor tire will take 6 rounds before it goes down? Tough critter.

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.

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).

A light bulb went off in my head.

I grabbed the can and set it on the stump. I thought that it would probably just spray out in a disappointing manner.Lets 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 pyrodex (black powder for muzzle loader rifles).

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, a 1 lb.pyrodex and 16 oz (Ether) should make a loud pop, kinda like a firecracker you know?

You know what? I'm going back in the house for the other can, so I got a second can of pyrodex and dumped it too. Now we're cookin'.

I stepped back about 15 ft and lit the 2 stroke arrow. I drew the nock to my cheek and took aim. As I released I heard a clunk 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 SHOOT! 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 shoot. 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 fricking 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 1 ft 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 worm or two.

The daylight turned purple. Let me repeat this... THE COTTON PICKING DAYLIGHT TURNED PURPLE.

There was a big sweet gum tree out by the gate going into the pasture. Notice I said "was". That sucker 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 YOU'RE BRINGIN' EM IN TOO CLOSE!! CEASE FIRE. DAMN IT 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 2000 ft. over our backyard.

There is a Honda 185 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. and Dad screaming "Bring him back to life so I can kill him again". Thanks Mom.

One thing is for sure... I never had to mow around that stump again.

Mom had been fussing about that thing for years and dad never did anything about it. I stepped up to the plate and handled business.

Dad sold his muzzle loader a week or so later. 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. It's good discipline and will teach them skills they can use later on in life.

--Author Unknown

I never knew fishing and bow hunting could be so fun. I laughed so hard on each of them I was crying.






mutiger

Engineer wrote:Life as a child growing up in Texas ....

Around age 10 my dad got me one of those little bad ass compound 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 40 horse Farmall tractor tire will take 6 rounds before it goes down? Tough critter.

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.

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).

A light bulb went off in my head.

I grabbed the can and set it on the stump. I thought that it would probably just spray out in a disappointing manner.Lets 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 pyrodex (black powder for muzzle loader rifles).

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, a 1 lb.pyrodex and 16 oz (Ether) should make a loud pop, kinda like a firecracker you know?

You know what? I'm going back in the house for the other can, so I got a second can of pyrodex and dumped it too. Now we're cookin'.

I stepped back about 15 ft and lit the 2 stroke arrow. I drew the nock to my cheek and took aim. As I released I heard a clunk 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 SHOOT! 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 shoot. 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 fricking 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 1 ft 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 worm or two.

The daylight turned purple. Let me repeat this... THE COTTON PICKING DAYLIGHT TURNED PURPLE.

There was a big sweet gum tree out by the gate going into the pasture. Notice I said "was". That sucker 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 YOU'RE BRINGIN' EM IN TOO CLOSE!! CEASE FIRE. DAMN IT 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 2000 ft. over our backyard.

There is a Honda 185 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. and Dad screaming "Bring him back to life so I can kill him again". Thanks Mom.

One thing is for sure... I never had to mow around that stump again.

Mom had been fussing about that thing for years and dad never did anything about it. I stepped up to the plate and handled business.

Dad sold his muzzle loader a week or so later. 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. It's good discipline and will teach them skills they can use later on in life.

--Author Unknown

Now that is poetry. For a brief moment I thought I was reading a Garrison Keilor script from A Prairie Home Companion.

Author known, it was me:

Age 11, a friends father got an 8mm movie camera and gave it to his son, my best friend. 1980, if we're going to make a movie we need cars exploding. Stole enough smokeless powder from the old man to 3/4 fill a penny wrapper. I was going to put BB's on top, but I suppose the good Lord intervened on my behalf.

Being out of model rocket fuse at the time, I determined that a rubberband would make a suitable fuse. So we take an old Revelle model of a 1970 Chevelle and set it on top of the penny wrapper full of gunpowder, buried just below the surface in the ground behind Fat Marks' aunt's garage. Mind you, we didn't have the camera with us. And we didn't have a script written or anything. All we knew was that if we were going to make a movie, we had to figure out how to make a realistic looking car blowing up.

So there I am with my buddy Brian, his older brother Kevin, Fat Mark, and some of the other local knuckleheads. I place the "charge" in a hole in the ground, back fill the hole, and place the unpainted model on top of it.

Then.......... I light the rubberband "fuse".

After about a minute or so, it appears that the fuse has gone out, underneath the model Chevy. CRAP,CRAP,CRAP!!!!

I approach our apparently failed pyrotechnic experiment and lift the model car off of the penny wrapper filled with smokeless powder (and thank God, no BB'S). As the technical producer of this stunt, I'm feeling a bit embarassed/ashamed that the test failed.

I put my face directly over the charge (which appeared to me to be in no way likely to ignite), when it ignited.

Have you ever singed you're eyebrows, eyelashes, and a good part of your hair off? Not to mention getting second degree burns (and a few small spots of third degree burns) all ovre your face?

My advice to you would be to NOT DO IT.

Told the folks that I was riding my bike and fell into a pile of leaves that someone was burning at the curb. The doctor knew better, and advised me that the suave that he was putting on my face was developed by the Germans in WWII for powder burns.

Less than a year later, I blew myself up again........ Luckily I didn't lose an eye, and the the total cost of both episodes was a very minimal scare on the tip of my nose.

THEM DUKES, THEM DUKES, THEM DUKES!!!