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When I was in grade 6 Pokemon cards were the hippest thing around. There was a comic book store in my town that had a very large collection of Pokemon cards that were sold dirt cheap (5 cents for commons, 10 cents for uncommons, 50 cents for rares). I had no idea that this store even had used Pokemon cards for sale until my friend told me that we should go together after school. He told a few more of our mutual friends and we ended up having a group of 5-6 kids who were going to buy up every underpriced Pokemon card in the store. Nothing to be ashamed of yet, right? Well I decided that with 30 minutes left in the school day (just after the last attendance call of the day) that I needed to get to the comic book store and loot all the good cards before my friends got there. So I asked my home-room teacher if I could go to my locker and instead of going to my locker I ran back home, scrounged together as much money as I could get my little hands on and ran to the comic book store. I bought every single rare card (doubles and triples of some) there and a bunch of the more valuable uncommons. I took an alternate route back to my apartment hoping to evade my friends who were undoubtedly on their way to the comic book store. My friends had gone to my apartment building looking for me and took this same alternate route the comic shop. I crossed the street quickly and hoped they didn't see me. They did and I promised to share some of the duplicate rare cards with them (I didn't). Anyway, this story is already pretty shameful, but it gets worse! I decided to sell the duplicate rares that I got on the cheap to kids at my school and made a massive profit. My friends were infuriated and they ostracised me from the group for a few months. Sorry elementary school friends.
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| # ? Aug 28, 2012 16:43 |
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| # ? May 26, 2013 08:40 |
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NewtGoongrich posted:
I had a friend that would steal cards during a trade and then trade them back for more cards or sell them to the original owner.
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| # ? Aug 28, 2012 16:50 |
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Timeless Appeal posted:When I was eight, my sister had one of those fake graduations from kindergarten. Afterwards, to celebrate, my parents took us out to the movies, and she got to decide which movie we saw. She really wanted to see Casper, but I talked her into seeing Batman Forever. Having seen Casper as a kid, and being haunted by nightmares of Eric Idle for the next two years, I can safely say you made the right choice.
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| # ? Aug 28, 2012 16:57 |
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EVG posted:When I had my first job as a bagger at a grocery store, one day I saw some money on the ground. I picked up the folded up bill, it was a $100 bill. First one I ever had my hands on! I stuck that poo poo in my pocket and immediately left for my break to go and brag to a friend who worked in the shop next door. When I got back, I found out that a little old lady had dropped it, it was her grocery money, but she had already left the store. I didn't say anything because I didn't want to give it back, I justified to myself that she was already gone and the manager would just keep it. I'm so sorry, lady. Here's a solution, go to a grocery store, pick out an old person who looks like they don't have much money, give them $100 (or whatever you can spare) If you can't give it back to the person who lost it, give it to someone who needs it just as much
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| # ? Aug 28, 2012 17:02 |
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I'm surprised that so many of you actually bullied the mentally challenged kids. We would always just use them to harass teachers, knowing that they couldn't get in trouble. We had a kid with Down's syndrome, who we associated with right before school before class started and right after school, while we were waiting for the bus. We nicknamed him "slickback" because The Boondocks was big at the time and we loved making A Pimp Named Slickback refferences. Slickback had probably made a ton of progress in his compulsive actions, prior to freshman year of high school. Once he started associating with us, he developed a habit of backhanding people on the chest/shoulder in order to get their attention. He must have picked it up from us, because we did it in a light, friendly way. A slight, gentle backhand tap on the shoulder. Since Slickback wasn't aware of his own strength, he would hit you with the backhand of a thousand pimps. He earned the name Slickback after he (possibly accidentally) backhanded my girlfriend in the boob and made her laugh and cry at the same time. We'd tell him to go say "hi" to whoever we wanted him to backhand. He'd slink up beside a teacher, backhand them in the chest and say, "Hey, hey, hey, hi, hi, hi teachah, hey, hi, hi, hey *teacha's name*" (And yes, he had a Boston accent.) Blunt Force Trauma posted:In middleschool, there was a kid in my class that had recently immigrated from Ethiopia and didn't have many friends. One day, my friends and I were throwing rocks and skipping them across the basketball courts. One of the rocks that I threw bounced up and smacked him in the forehead. He was understanding about it and wasn't mad at me, but I ran in to him about 8 years later and he still had a big dent in his forehead where that rock hit him. I feel pretty awful about it to this day That's pretty funny, actually. I have a chip in my skull from when I was walking, not paying attention and got punched in the eye by a kid walking in the other direction. Both of us were listening to music, completely unaware of our surroundings. I craned my neck down to change songs on my iPod and His arm sway movement caused his fist to smash me in the eye, so hard, I actually got scared thinking he was gonna beat me up, before he apologized profusely. ZanderZ fucked around with this message at Aug 28, 2012 around 17:18 |
| # ? Aug 28, 2012 17:11 |
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I was a monster, my crimes legion, my punishment a scarred conscience that knows no rest all these years later. Aged 4 - I stole my best, oldest friend's Princess Leia and a very rare Superman action figures. Bro, one day, I will make it up to you. Aged 4 - I poured all the fish food into our next door neighbour's goldfish bowl, causing the poor things to eat themselves to death. Next door's kids caught me in the act, however. Sorry, little fish dudes and next door folks. Aged 5 - I stole some magnetic ladybirds from a renowned department store. My guilt over this prevented me from ever actually using/displaying them in public, however, so they remained buried in the bottom of a draw for over a decade. gently caress you, forces of capitalism. Aged 6 - Joined classmates in relentlessly mocking Nadia, a traveller classmate, for never washing. Sorry, Nadia. Aged 7 - I stole dozens of quarters from my father to play Donkey Kong with. But hey, you were 10 times the crook I ever was so gently caress you, dad. Aged 7 - Broke into several rooms in a Florida motel. In fairness, I was led astray by a mysterious and alluring older woman (she was 10), and we never actually took anything because some kids aren't looking for anything logical and can't be bought, bullied, reasoned or negotiated with. Some kids just want to watch the world burn. And wreck a lock with a pair of scissors. Aged 9 - Got into an argument with a girl at school, waited until her back was turned and charged into her, arms outstretched like Superman, punching her so hard in the back that she skidded on her belly for a dozen feet along the playground. Aged 9 - I attempted to achieve fame and riches by creating a new, all conquering fragrance by mixing water, rose petals, talc, pot pourri and several bottles of my grandmother's expensive perfume in a sink. Aged 10 - Avoided Bella at the school dance all night. She only wanted to dance with me but I deemed her too fat to hang with me. Sorry, Bella. Aged 11 - Helped my mother and cousin smuggle illegal goods past customs by lying down in the back seat over it and pretending to be asleep. Aged 11 - Having just watched a couple of 70s Bond films, I became, for a time, obsessed with doing impressions of Sheriff J.W. Pepper. Unfortunately, I happened to do this to a black friend of my mother, completely oblivious to how incredibly offensive this would come across. Sorry, Sly. Aged 12 - Saw some money fall out of a man's back pocket, didn't tell him, waited 5 minutes for him to notice then swooped in like some vast, predatory bird and claimed it for my own. I rationalised this to myself by convincing myself he looked like an Irish terrorist and was probably going to put it towards bombing someone. Aged 12 - Mocked another member of the travelling community, a (spectacularly ugly) kid called Gerald, who I shamefully dubbed Gerry the Gyppo. Sorry, Gerald. Aged 13 - Knocked out, trapped and slowly dissected a wasp over the course of an hour, watching it squirm and thrash in agony, positioned its now-separated abdomen next to its head so that the spastic stinger would sting it in the face. But you know what? gently caress wasps, motherfuckers got it comin'. Aged 13 - Powerbombed a first year kid who was annoying me. I'd say sorry but I don't even remember your fuckin' name, son. Aged 13 - Paid to deliver flyers to local houses and car windshields, I in fact spent 10 minutes doing so on the way to my friend's house, stuffed the other 90% of them in a bin then proceeded to play Gauntlet II all afternoon. I got away with that poo poo for months, until one day they were found blowing all around the neighbourhood. Naturally, I denied everything, and one of the guys who hired me stood up for me, believing there must be some mistake. Sorry, Kev. Aged 14 - My most terrible crime yet. Along with the rest of the class, I helped persuade a young classmate to hide in a cabinet so they could scare the poo poo out our teacher when we gave them the signal. Except as soon as they were inside, we turned the cabinet against the wall. And threw a burning toilet roll in there with him for good measure. Sorry, Shahin. Aged 15 - Persuaded my sweet, little grandmother to take me to see Total Recall, which I described to her as a fun little film about a man with some memory problems. She was not prepared for the orgy of swearing, sex, ultraviolence and mutant tits that followed, oh no. But admit it, you loved it really, yeah? After that, I gave up my life of crime and sin, and have committed only a few despicable acts since (the worst of which was driving some mentalist in a godsquadder cult to a nervous breakdown, which was for his own good yeah?). Actually, now that I think about it, I've gotten away with pretty much everything ever apart from the goldfish and the flyers thing. Perhaps I should have stuck with it and become a supervillain after all...
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| # ? Aug 28, 2012 17:16 |
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When I was in middle school I once put a dog biscuit in a girls locker and made fun of her because of her looks. She wasn't even horrible looking, just someone everyone decided to pick on. I found her on MySpace a few years ago and apologized. She claimed to not remember, and I hope that was true because I honestly felt like a huge dick for doing that.
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| # ? Aug 28, 2012 17:53 |
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Darth123123 posted:They left you alone? Yeah, my dad was working and my mum had to pop out for something. I know leaving small children home alone is a big deal, but it wasn't ever really deemed a problem with us if it was only for 10 minutes, but even that small amount of time was enough for me to nearly kill an animal, so there you go.
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| # ? Aug 28, 2012 18:00 |
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When I was in middle school, I found a kid's wallet. I put all of his stuff in my wallet, and my stuff in his, then returned my wallet, and kept his. I'm still using it 18 years later. One of these days I'll get a big boy wallet.
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| # ? Aug 28, 2012 18:04 |
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I waged a pretty ruthless campaign of psychological violence against people less fortunate then me, complete with mean-rear end nicknames and for different looking kids and throwing trash at ugly girls. I think back I just had no concept that other people could feel bad besides me, I just treated them like they weren't even people or weren't smart enough to understand I was being mean.
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| # ? Aug 28, 2012 18:08 |
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I'm genuinely impressed by the number of people in this thread who have apologized years later. A story from the other side: In elementary school, I had signed up to play violin for a school talent show. I left the violin back backstage and wandered off until it was time for me to go on. Only when I was standing in front of a hundred people did I realize the strings were all loose and the tuners were hosed up, and the whole thing was unplayable. I tried anyway, and oh god it was horrible. I ended up just walking offstage and crying for a while. Fast-forward to high school, when my father's job was transferred and my family was getting ready to move. My last week at school, two guys I only sort of knew came up to me and apologized for messing with my violin that night. It had been years since it happened, and it was weird knowing they still felt guilty. I don't even remember their names. Still, it meant a lot to me.
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| # ? Aug 28, 2012 18:55 |
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In 6th grade, we were learning mixed numbers and I had a time with it. I had always done well in everything in school and it came as a surprise that I wasn't good at something. The teacher let us grade some of our own papers. I think it was as much shame as arrogance, but I couldn't let myself do bad on it. So, instead of marking some of my answers wrong, I used my eraser and wrote in the right ones. The teacher never evidently looked at anything more than the grades we gave ourselves because she never caught on. Overall, I had a terrible ego during grade school. There are a bunch of little things that I said or did because I thought I was the wittiest individual in the world. RC and Moon Pie fucked around with this message at Aug 28, 2012 around 19:17 |
| # ? Aug 28, 2012 19:15 |
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Sentinel Red posted:
Are we talking machine guns, or like fresh fruit?
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| # ? Aug 28, 2012 19:23 |
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I think I was around 10 years at the time, maybe younger. I had browsed the net (looking at my brothers do it helped) and had found a catchy tune. I went around mumbling and singing it where-ever. Even in a shopping mall, following my mother as she did whatever she had to do. But oh no, this song wasn't (big surprise) exactly harmless, not at all. I didn't know the lyrics. Had I known, I wouldn't have considered it. It was "I Like Bukkake". Yes. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UwB9m4FslO4 thinking back, it would have been hilarious seeing a kid sing that song
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| # ? Aug 28, 2012 20:30 |
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drat, thanks to this thread I feel like I was a less terrible child than I thought. But in the Little poo poo Checklist I do manage to strike off a few things. I tormented ants with my friends, tried to "teach them to swim". I knew they couldn't possibly be enjoying themselves but I did it anyway. I've stolen toys from neighbourhood kids, small things I thought they wouldn't miss but that doesn't exactly make it okay. Did that just because I could. Shoplifted some stuff too (ehh whatever). Destroyed school property. Broke my cousin's closet door, ripped that thing right off its hinges, then put it back to look not-broken. I heard my aunt open that closet later and heard the door just falling out, followed by my aunt going "piece of poo poo closet god drat". I guess I got away with everything. No pet abuse fortunately. We used to have a massive dobermann that behaved like a meek little lamb. Even if I would have been dumb enough to mess with it I couldn't possibly find any reason to. The annoyances and indignities that dog just tolerated from me and my sister was amazing.
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| # ? Aug 28, 2012 20:47 |
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RC and Moon Pie posted:In 6th grade, we were learning mixed numbers and I had a time with it. I had always done well in everything in school and it came as a surprise that I wasn't good at something. The teacher let us grade some of our own papers. I think it was as much shame as arrogance, but I couldn't let myself do bad on it. So, instead of marking some of my answers wrong, I used my eraser and wrote in the right ones. The teacher never evidently looked at anything more than the grades we gave ourselves because she never caught on. She knew/didnt care. My lazy/overworked teachers had us change papers. Common practice was to create grade alliances. 
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| # ? Aug 28, 2012 20:50 |
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clarabelle posted:Here's a solution, go to a grocery store, pick out an old person who looks like they don't have much money, give them $100 (or whatever you can spare) I actually volunteer now at a local soup kitchen / food dispensary every week, it makes me feel a little less lovely about things.
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| # ? Aug 28, 2012 21:06 |
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When I was 12 or so and my brother was 10 we were playing pool at my uncle's house. The pool table was in his finished basement and was pretty close to the wall, so we liked to do this thing where we put our hands on the table's edge and walked sideways with our feet braced against the wall behind. We'd been caught doing it once and told not to do it lest we sully the wall with our sneakers, but we of course ignored this advice and discovered a much more horrifying consequence: I managed to mule-kick a 3 foot loving hole in the drywall. As if that wasn't bad enough, I then browbeat my brother (physically and verbally) into moving a chair over next to the hole and going along with a story about him jokingly pushing me in such a way that I tripped over said chair and fell into the wall with my shoulder, both a physical improbability and a convenient way of removing any shred of possible blame from myself (my thinking at the time being they would assume I was actually covering for my brother instead of the other way around if they didn't believe the lie, since he was willing to say he'd done the pushing). For whatever reason my uncle appeared to buy it at the time, and even thanked us at the end of the visit because the drywall was really wet and hadn't been done properly, something we'd apparently called to his attention. My parents never quite bought it, but they couldn't really say boo once my uncle went all magnanimous. I was certain at the time that we'd gotten away with it, came to believe that there was no chance they didn't know what had really happened in my late teens, and then finally confessed a couple of years ago over a few beers, to discover that my uncle - apparently and honestly - did in fact believe that our story checked out. Whoda thunk I was a criminal mastermind at 12 (or that my uncle cared little enough about that wall to spare my feelings even 10 years later).
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| # ? Aug 28, 2012 21:20 |
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Anjow posted:An old woman lived next door to us, she was probably 80. My brother had a wooden crocodile he'd been given by an African friend. We carved "the witch doctor has cursed you - you will die within the year" on it and threw it into her garden. She found it, talked to us, and we successfully blamed the kids on the other side from her. I think this hilarious and nothing to be ashamed of. Like something from an episode of Leave it to Beaver. Sounds like she didn't have a sense of humor. When I was 11 or 12 there was a deaf boy who rode my school bus. Another kid and I teased him every day for what must have been weeks. He wore a hearing aid but really couldn't talk but would sometimes make noises (maybe not realizing it). We would imitate his sounds and make faces at him. We made him cry a few times. We got bored with it and stopped but I felt bad and my friend did too. Not too long afterwards I was watching a kids show that showed what sign language was, and some examples, including "I'm sorry". My friend and I were sitting in front of him on the bus not long after and we got his attention and both signed "I'm sorry" to Mark. His face lit up in astonishment and a huge smile and signed some things back which we didn't understand. He'd smile and wave at me from time to time after that. I'm glad that we apologized but I will always feel like a colossal poo poo for picking on that poor boy. What an awesome kid for taking the high road and forgiving us. In junior high I used to pick on this kid verbally but I would get tough kid I knew in PE class to push him and physically intimidate him. Well, one week we learned wrestling. At the end of the week we each got paired up for a wrestling match. I ended up wrestling this kid and he mopped the floor with me in front of the whole class. I guess he could have now gotten further revenge but he knew he'd made his point because that was the end of it. In math class that year my teacher (he was an older man who was kind) had a poster with cartoon animals that said "Ain't friends grand?". It was something meant for much younger kids and my friends and I were making fun of it one day before class. Our teacher overheard. The next day the poster was gone. I just imagine him at the end of the day sadly taking that poster down.
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| # ? Aug 28, 2012 22:00 |
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When my dog was young she was a little terror who would scratch me with her claws and chomp gleefully on my arms and fingers. Not biting, just using her mouth on me. Instead of you know, training or exercising her, I used to beat her until she stopped spazzing the gently caress out. Basically just smacking her over and over. I still feel really, really bad about it even though I grew up in the rural South U.S. and everyone I knew beat the poo poo out of their animals. I stopped after watching my Dad freak out and rub my dog's nose in her own piss until she bled from the nostrils. I didn't want to be that person. I backhanded a pony once. I don't feel too sorry because that bitch was in the middle of lunging forward with her mouth open to try and bite my stomach. However, I do feel incredibly sorry for all the stupid times I kicked all the incredibly patient horses I learned to ride on in the sides or jerked on the reins. I don't practice the whole natural horsemanship stuff, but reading some of the books as a teen really helped me empathize with animals and try to work with them and see things through their perspective instead of just using brute force. Thanks Monty Roberts. Your book improved the lives of all the animals I interact with. 
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| # ? Aug 28, 2012 22:12 |
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What the gently caress is up with goons and animal abuse?
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| # ? Aug 28, 2012 22:17 |
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Oh maaaaan empty sea that story reminds me of one definite point of shame from my grade school career. drat, I'd totally repressed it until now. So I was in speech therapy for a bit in grade school because I wasn't pronouncing my S's right, or something. I dunno, I'd move my tongue wrong or whatever. The majority of the class were kids with special needs / way way worse speech issues than mine and general learning disabilities. Anyhow, I got out of it midway through the year I got into it, I'm guessing 5th grade. Later in the year, the speech therapy class did some kind of poster project and they were up on the wall opposite the classroom door. One of my shithead friends and I walked by them one day, and stopped briefly to make fun of them for some reason. I looked down the hall, about 40-50 feet away and the speech therapy teacher was standing there, with a look on her face of absolute  -ness.Sorry, speech therapy teacher. I was a stupid kid, and you were doing good work.
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| # ? Aug 28, 2012 22:19 |
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Well, while we're on the topic of animal abuse. When I was five, I was given a miniature fox terrier puppy, who was my best friend for ten years. He was an excellent dog. But he barked! Not as much as other dogs (because it was a protective thing, not a boredom thing), but once he got started, he wouldn't stop. Yelling at him just made him bark more. Anyway, he had a leash with a metal chain. One day, when I was eight or nine, I was in the yard with him; he wouldn't stop barking, and I suddenly lost my temper and whipped him with the leash. I only hit him once, and it wasn't a heavy chain (it was about 5mm across), but it made a definite "THWACK" sound when it hit him and it must have hurt like hell. He scuttled away. Luckily there was an authority figure around to tell me I'd done wrong - not my parents, but our elderly cattledog, who came up, sniffed the area thoroughly, and stared at me with accusing eyes. I immediately felt horrible. Then I took them both inside and gave them some cheese and treated the foxie like a queen for the rest of his life because I felt so bad. It didn't bruise or bleed and there was no bone breakage, but if I swung a bit harder or if he'd been a more frail dog (foxies look delicate but they're basically little bricks on legs) it could have injured him really badly. If there was one single moment in my life that I could retract, that would be it. Luckily, he was okay, we remained best friends, and I've never harmed an animal since then. ETA: Telling an internet forum full of neutral faceless strangers about that was strangely cathartic!
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| # ? Aug 28, 2012 22:29 |
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I do not understand goon animal abuse. Animals were absolutely precious to me as a kid, to the point where I would have probably attacked anyone I saw trying to harm one. I woulda beaten up alla ya'll up is what I am saying. 
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| # ? Aug 28, 2012 22:37 |
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Senior Woodchuck posted:What the gently caress is up with goons and animal abuse? Probably because it's an easy victim that can't fight back or tell on you.
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| # ? Aug 28, 2012 22:40 |
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QUEEN CAUCUS posted:I do not understand goon animal abuse. I honestly wish someone had beaten me up afterward, preferably while the dog looked smugly on.
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| # ? Aug 28, 2012 22:43 |
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When I saw the movie Kids when I was 9, I took it the complete wrong way and thought it was loving awesome and wanted to be like Casper when I grew up(not that he ever did!)
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| # ? Aug 28, 2012 22:43 |
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QUEEN CAUCUS posted:I do not understand goon animal abuse. Yeah, look at your avatar. poo poo is bizaar. I agree, this thread was A Good Idea. Wonder how many goons have had reflection enough to raise goonbaby's that don't repeat. I figure a lot.
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| # ? Aug 28, 2012 22:47 |
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I don't think it's goons so much as people in general. I got laughed at once for not smacking the poo poo out of an elderly horse who stepped on my foot. Instead I just pushed his shoulder till he stepped away. Horses are big and don't go around looking at their feet or thinking about where my feet are. Most of the people I've met don't seem to understand that animals don't think or react like us. A lot of the people I knew as a kid were shockingly casual about animal abuse. My childhood friend's old dog got ran over by her father one day. It didn't die right away and had several broken bones. Did they rush it to the vet? Of course not! They kept it overnight and took it in the next day. That dog spent the whole night in pain and shock and my friend could not understand why I was so furious with her. My cousin used to beat her cat and swing it around by its front legs to "dance" with her. And then she wondered why it preferred to sit on my lap when I visited. Probably because I wasn't beating or torturing it, you dumbass. Anyway, for a story. There was this really annoying girl on our school bus who would take her shoes off and run around? I don't know why. So one day my friend and these two guys took her shoes and tied them by the shoelaces to the bars that held the bus seats up. Basically all the laces were knots. She couldn't get them off and had to walk home shoeless while everyone laughed at her. I helped them distract the driver and laughed along.
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| # ? Aug 28, 2012 22:48 |
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Yeah, I was never an animal abuser as a kid because my parents really instilled in me that animals were defenseless, innocent creatures and it was cruel, etc. I was kind of a jerk to my dog growing up, but never to the point of being abusive.
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| # ? Aug 28, 2012 22:54 |
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In elementary school we'd have 'pajama day' where we would come in our pajamas and watch movies and play games all day. Many of us brought in our gameboys to play pokemon and battle, and one classmate owned the link cable necessary. When he wasn't looking - I took his link cable. Still feel bad about that one.
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| # ? Aug 28, 2012 23:20 |
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One thing that really is inconsequential but has bothered me all my life was when I was...4? 4 or early 5, I know for a fact it was before I lost my hearing to meningitis. We were at my great-grandmom's house in the country and I'd gotten this stupid little fisher-price fishing rod toy of some sort, I think it might've been a cat toy or something. I handed it to my step-granddad who was laying on the couch, then a little later I grabbed it really roughly out of his hand. He was all "OUCH, you scratched me  " but I pretended not to hear him. I know now he was probably just playing it up to make me feel bad for being a brat, but for some reason that inconsequential little bit of rudeness has bothered me forever.I miss you, Grumps. I never got to say I was sorry.
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| # ? Aug 28, 2012 23:30 |
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hatchets hatchets hatchets hatchets hatchets hatchets hatchets hatchets hatchets hatchets hatchets hatchets hatchets hatchets hatchets hatchets hatchets hatchets hatchets hatchets hatchets
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I was in third grade at the time... Since I was an only child, I didn't have any sibling to play wrestle with, so my dad would play fight with me, but he'd win all the time and I got pissed. One time I got so pissed that I told my third grade teacher that my dad was beating me and she called children services (social services?) on my family. They had to do a full background check, meetings in home, physical evaluations of me and mental of my dad and mom before they left us alone. It went on for a good year. I didn't even care till I was like 16 or so and really looked back. I feel horrible to this day...
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| # ? Aug 28, 2012 23:32 |
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I reset my sister's pokemon blue so I could have all 151 in the pokedex. I didn't even trade her team over. Through the tears she could only say: 'why?'
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| # ? Aug 28, 2012 23:39 |
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In my grade school days, there were two occasions when I hit two kids smaller than I was and made them cry. I still feel bad about it today. When I was a little older, maybe junior high, I shot and killed a groundhog with my BB rifle. It had been rooting around in my Mom's garden. Also from high school, this one girl had been following me around for awhile, teasing me, etc. But I pretty much hated the whole world during my high school years and I didn't see that she was just being forward. So one day she comes up behind me and slaps my rear end.  "Hey, Clarington!"I turned around, got right in her face and snarled, "Get away from me, you whore." I still remember the  face she made. She never approached me again after that. To this day, it's probably the most assholish thing I've ever said to anyone. Sorry, Fran.
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| # ? Aug 29, 2012 00:44 |
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Around the age of 8 or 10, I would piss in the maple syrup buckets at a nature preserve by my house.
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| # ? Aug 29, 2012 00:57 |
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Spectral_beard posted:Are we talking machine guns, or like fresh fruit? A Stinger missile and some conflict diamonds. Nah, a large chunk of meat (which was banned at the time due to paranoia over Foot & Mouth or something) and a small amount of what I later realised was hash stuffed in my jacket pocket. I just pretended to be fast asleep and the customs dude was all "awww, no need to disturb the wee lad, go on through". SUCKER. Oh and add a copy of X-Factor #13 to the list too, from another good friend. Hey, it was rare at the time, right? Awesome Dark Phoenix cover and poo poo.
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| # ? Aug 29, 2012 01:28 |
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In grade school, must have been 4th-5th grade, a bunch of other kids dared a bigger kid to try to "beat me up." I overheard this dare, so as he approached and grabbed at me I punched him in the face. Not hard enough to injure him, but enough that he cried. That wasn't terrible in itself, but I liked the feeling of power it gave me, so within a few weeks I had already found another excuse to punch him again. I don't remember the exact details, but I'm fairly sure I manipulated the situation into a confrontation so I could feel that rush again. I've never been in any real fights since, nor have I ever felt the urge to do any violence to anyone. But looking back on it, I feel really bad -- that kid ended up getting picked on all the time and he didn't deserve that poo poo. Looking back on it I feel like such a horrible, manipulative rear end in a top hat.
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| # ? Aug 29, 2012 01:32 |
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When I was first getting into second grade, we were doing lots of arts and crafts. One day I decided it was be a totally pimp plan to cut a huge chunk out of my bangs of my bowl-cut. I was a sneaky kid, so I made sure no one saw. When I was found out a few hours later by the principal, I blamed one of my class mates. His name was Michael, and I didn't like him based entirely on the fact that I didn't like his face, or that his ears stuck out a little to far from his head. I committed to the lie for the rest of the year, enough to even get Michael to believe that he did it. Found out that Michael didn't get to go to his first ever planned Disneyland trip because his parents were so upset that he would allegedly ruin another kid's perfect bowl-cut. I hope his parents eventually realized I was being the lovely kid, not their loving weird looking son.
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| # ? Aug 29, 2012 02:29 |
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| # ? May 26, 2013 08:40 |
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This thread is like a study on ethics. One time when I was a kid I was at a summer camp and threw a pencil at some kid who was getting annoying. It hit him in the back and he started bawling his eyes off... and some other kid got blamed for it. I still feel bad about that.
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| # ? Aug 29, 2012 02:50 |
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