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Post a pic that makes you say "Holy shit."


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3 hours ago, crash_davis said:

 

It pisses me off that the fucking tour guides had their vehicles so close to the agitated elephants and didn't try to leave. I've been on several safaris and one thing I've always appreciated are guides that have said "Don't fuck with elephants -- read their signals and immediately leave if they show signs of stress." These elephants gave plenty of warning, and I'm sure there's even more before this clip starts. 

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27 minutes ago, honolulu horn said:

It pisses me off that the fucking tour guides had their vehicles so close to the agitated elephants and didn't try to leave. I've been on several safaris and one thing I've always appreciated are guides that have said "Don't fuck with elephants -- read their signals and immediately leave if they show signs of stress." These elephants gave plenty of warning, and I'm sure there's even more before this clip starts. 

#humblebrag

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Yes, You got your choice, vertical doors opening opposed to the outside of the trailer.  Or a roll-up style going the whole way.  But like Will Ferrell said in the 'Trust Tree', maybe it's something new.  Some kinda trailer opening I've never even heard of.  

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Really fucking cool.  Spent my whole life around trucking and camping and never seen anything like that. 

-Say Timmy, does your Dad's truck camper have those cool expandable sections that make it wider?

"You mean expandable section like your Mom?"

-No asshole!  Those campers where you press a button and the vehicle gets wider for more room?

"Dude, it's a full-size cab.  It's already 8.5' wide.  No need for anymore."

-That's a bummer.  Looks too old.  New ones have that expandable feature.

"Your mom is perfectly happy with my Dad's 8.5 of road rumbling fury, dude.  See you at the Jamboree."  

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2 hours ago, Brothahorn said:

Crazy shit. I 85% sure my baby momma stayed in those apartments once upon a time.

 

My ex caught me over there and slashed 3 of my tires. Why slash 3 and not all four?

 

Nice of him to potentially perforate his neighbor instead of waiting for the intruders to actually enter.   Fucker. 

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10 hours ago, honolulu horn said:

It pisses me off that the fucking tour guides had their vehicles so close to the agitated elephants and didn't try to leave. I've been on several safaris and one thing I've always appreciated are guides that have said "Don't fuck with elephants -- read their signals and immediately leave if they show signs of stress." These elephants gave plenty of warning, and I'm sure there's even more before this clip starts. 

"Hold my beer" - Vic Mackey 

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I bet it's cool, but it's in Topeka.  

Well, if you do make it to Topeka and the Knievel Museum, continue west for another 2.5 hours to Cawker City.  To see the World's Largest Ball of Twine:

http://www.kansastravel.org/balloftwine.htm

And yes, we stopped there on the way to a wedding in the most miserable shithole I've ever seen.  And I've been to Detroit.

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21 minutes ago, Chad Fuck said:

All you guys need to do yourself a favor and check out the Evel Kneivel museum.  I happened to be in Topeka for work with some time to kill.  It's one of the coolest places you've ever been:  https://www.evelknievelmuseum.com

 

 

18 minutes ago, YGIFS said:

I bet it's cool, but it's in Topeka.  

This. The fact it's not in Butte, Montana is a fucking crime.

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1 minute ago, RPM said:

 

This. The fact it's not in Butte, Montana is a fucking crime.

Well, maybe.  But the guy who started the museum essentially bought all Evel's stuff because Evel was broke.  And he lives in Topeka.  Unfortunately, there was no 401k for an aging daredevil.  That Snake Canyon contraption was something.  Basically an overgrown one of these:

image.png.539ecc3ed308e9cf32708ac5b202d7dd.png

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26 minutes ago, RPM said:

 

This. The fact it's not in Butte, Montana is a fucking crime.

I think there was a stunt planned with ABC to have  him jump from Butte, Montana to Kansas City, MO.  But sometimes they put your museum up where you landed. 

csb/ My father didn't like mass culture stuff like pro wrestling, NFL, NASCAR, pop music, summer blockbusters at the the theater, etc.  But he would take me to see crash-up derbies, monster truck rallies, boat shows/races, tractor pulls, and motorcycle races, real low-brow shit with him having a wax cup of beer and unfiltered lucky strike and me with a hot dog and orange soda.  And we'd watch Evil Knievel re-runs.  Made sense since he was in the Navy and worked in trucking, he loved shit with serious horsepower.  And I got older and wanted to try riding motorbikes but he prohibited it across the board.  Even after my parents split up, he told my mom---he can learn to drive a car, but no motorcycles ever until he's out on his own and we can't stop him.  I thought it was weird because he regaled me with stories of him riding bikes in the desert when stationed in Morocco.  Fixing up motorcycles with Navy buddies back home, racing, we watched Evil Knievel, went to bike races all the time, etc.  After he died, a very distant relative gave me a reel-to-reel of them racing bikes the summer before he enlisted in the Navy.  I watched it, black and white and blurry as shit.  Barely recognized my dad as he put his helmet on, goes flying down the barely paved street.  Wipes out, rolls off, lays lifeless.  I thought, "I think he died.  I mean, he has me 15 years later, but I think he's dead."  Film ends.  Apparently he never got on a bike after he left the Navy, but I think he watched Evil Knievel and those other events as kind of an Uncle Rico vicarious thing.  We're smart, but we're just monkeys with thumbs, full of testosterone chasing a rush.  RIP, Evil.  /csb  

 

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2 minutes ago, YGIFS said:

I think there was a stunt planned with ABC to have  him jump from Butte, Montana to Kansas City, MO.  But sometimes they put your museum up where you landed. 

csb/ My father didn't like mass culture stuff like pro wrestling, NFL, NASCAR, pop music, summer blockbusters at the the theater, etc.  But he would take me to see crash-up derbies, monster truck rallies, boat shows/races, tractor pulls, and motorcycle races, real low-brow shit with him having a wax cup of beer and unfiltered lucky strike and me with a hot dog and orange soda.  And we'd watch Evil Knievel re-runs.  Made sense since he was in the Navy and worked in trucking, he loved shit with serious horsepower.  And I got older and wanted to try riding motorbikes but he prohibited it across the board.  Even after my parents split up, he told my mom---he can learn to drive a car, but no motorcycles ever until he's out on his own and we can't stop him.  I thought it was weird because he regaled me with stories of him riding bikes in the desert when stationed in Morocco.  Fixing up motorcycles with Navy buddies back home, racing, we watched Evil Knievel, went to bike races all the time, etc.  After he died, a very distant relative gave me a reel-to-reel of them racing bikes the summer before he enlisted in the Navy.  I watched it, black and white and blurry as shit.  Barely recognized my dad as he put his helmet on, goes flying down the barely paved street.  Wipes out, rolls off, lays lifeless.  I thought, "I think he died.  I mean, he has me 15 years later, but I think he's dead."  Film ends.  Apparently he never got on a bike ever again for the rest of his life, but I think he watched Evil Knievel and those other events as kind of an Uncle Rico vicarious thing.  We're smart, but we're just monkeys with thumbs, full of testosterone chasing a rush.  RIP, Evil.  /csb  

 

Dude, that story brings back the memory of the one time my Dad rode motorcycles with me. He was not a fan of bikes because his brother was killed riding an Indian in 1933. My Mom bought me a Honda Trail 70 when I was 10. Rode the shit out of it and saved up $600 to buy a used Yamaha 250 street bike when I was 15 and got a license. One day out of the blue (or a W.L. Weller bottle) Dad decides to go riding with me, Camel cigarette and mixed drink attached. I tried to get him to ride the 250 because it was bigger, but he chose the Trail 70. To quote him, he "looked like a monkey fucking a football." We rode about 5 miles around the county roads until we came to the Mom/Pop store about a half mile from home and Dad wipes out in spectacular fashion when he hit the loose gravel of the parking lot. The only time I saw my Dad humbled, but there were witnesses.

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1 minute ago, RPM said:

Dude, that story brings back the memory of the one time my Dad rode motorcycles with me. He was not a fan of bikes because his brother was killed riding an Indian in 1933. My Mom bought me a Honda Trail 70 when I was 10. Rode the shit out of it and saved up $600 to buy a used Yamaha 250 street bike when I was 15 and got a license. One day out of the blue (or a W.L. Weller bottle) Dad decides to go riding with me, Camel cigarette and mixed drink attached. I tried to get him to ride the 250 because it was bigger, but he chose the Trail 70. To quote him, he "looked like a monkey fucking a football." We rode about 5 miles around the county roads until we came to the Mom/Pop store about a half mile from home and Dad wipes out in spectacular fashion when he hit the loose gravel of the parking lot. The only time I saw my Dad humbled, but there were witnesses.

That's a great story.  I bet if I had the chance to ride with him, we'd have had a similar experience.  Glad your dad survived that because when your mom asked what his last words were that day, you'd had to have said, "He said he looked like a monkey fucking a football."  And she'd be stuck with that for decades.   Pos rep.

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3 minutes ago, YGIFS said:

Glad your dad survived that because when your mom asked what his last words were that day, you'd had to have said, "He said he looked like a monkey fucking a football."  And she'd be stuck with that for decades.

Eventual stepmom, but yeah. That's what I told her at dinner that night. I had no filter as a yute.

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