my 1000th post giveaway

Absintheur

Absintheur

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Jan 31, 2008
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Yep, I have posted 1000 times in the forums, some good, some ya'll disagreed with but no matter how you count them it still adds up to 1000. I thought hard about what to give away here. It needed to be a traditional slippie, should be carbon steel not stainless, would be nice if it were something you couldn't just order from a knife store for yourself.....hmmmmmmm.....

Well I looked things over in my accumulation and my eyes lit on a 1970 Case 6232-Texas Jack, 2 blade, jigged brown bone just the sort of knife a native born son of Texas should pass along. This knife walks and talks like it was made yesterday and is ready for a natural (not "applied") patina that ya'll are so fond of. As a Native Born Son of Texas, ya'll can see in my Certificate of Citizenship, I have the right to the "Telling of The Tall Tale". That is all that is required for this giveaway...a short tall tale in your post. Your post number will be your entry number. I think I will let this run to next Sunday at noon.

texasjack3.jpg


A Texan looked atop a tall building and discovered a man ready to jump! "Stop, remember you're someone who has value!" The man replied, "I just lost everything in the stock market!" "Remember you're important to your wife," yelled the Texan. "She divorced me, the witch." "Your children! Remember your children," yelled the Texan. "They never call," said the man. "Your parents. Remember your parents," yelled the Texan. "Dead as doornails," said the man. "Remember the Alamo," yelled the Texan. "What's the Alamo?" inquired the man. The Texan yelled, "Jump!"
 
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I came home the other day to find my dad really upset. What's up dad, I asked? He said that he was driving on a country road when he accidentally hit a pig, severely wounding it. He knew that state law requires you to stop and immediately notify the farmer of the accident but he was in a hurry so he decided to keep driving and go notify the farmer the next day. So why are you so upset I asked? He said that when he got home, the state police was there and issued him a citation for not reporting the accident. Huh, how did they find out if no one was there I asked - to which he replied:

The pig squealed on me.

Thanks for the opportunity Absintheur!
 
After reading Tracker2's post I see we are going to allow shaggy dog stories too....lol
 
To me, it's a good idea to always carry two sacks of something
when you walk around. That way, if anybody says, "Hey, can you
give me a hand?" You can say, "Sorry, got these sacks."
 
When I was the person I wanted to be I kept getting put in jail for it. One episode behind bars which occured in Tucson Arizona included a fellow named Carl. Carl it seemed was a hitman. He told me a story about seeing an apparition in the desert while our shooting his guns. She was wearing a pink and white stripped bathrobe and had a hole in her head. Some days later back at the same spot he came upon the police digging up a girls body. She was buried wearing a pink and white stripped bathrobe and had been bludgened to death by being hit in the head with a rock. As it so happened I had read about her death in Life magazine and knew the details of the death.
Now that I act like an upstanding citizen I don't run in to interesting characters like Carl anymore. Not really a tall tale just shit from my past but a tale.
 
Tall tale, huh?

Case 6232. Well for starters it's kinda small for a Texas Jack imho. Of course the '92' is gettin' just a bit closer to Texas size...

...And, I just hate that particular pattern. Yep, it's true, just ask anyone. Wouldn't have one in my collection (of either size) and sure as hell wouldn't commission a custom maker to make one for me. That's for damn sure. Case 6232. Why would anyone bother with such a thing as that?



;)

Thanks for the chance. (Even though I just hate that dang pattern. ;))
 
You asked for a tall tale, but this one is true, I will swear,;) My aunt & uncle were so tight when they died a week apart they had prearranged a u-haul to be pulled behind the hearse. It was all buried with them, Of course, that night, half the family was out there fighting as they were digging them up.;)

Thanks for the chance.
Jim
PS: The money was never found.:)
 
One night after work I was headed to a camphouse in the country where most of my coworkers were having a company party. I drove out of the woods and had to cross a pasture where everyone was parked at the top of a hill. I shot the gas to my souped up Ford Ranchero headed up to park at the only opening in a line of 20 or so vehicles. What I had no way of knowing was that the 2 vehicles I parked between were on either side of an empty swimming pool.:eek::eek:True Story
Chickenplucker
 
No tall tale here, just what's going on.

I'm sitting in the Dulles Airport, on my way home from Vancouver. My wife overstuffed her carry-on suitcase and it just exploded and emptied all its contents at the exit gate. Turns out the zipper completely gave way, all of a sudden.

I thought of duct tape or string to tie things up, but I didn't have either. Then I remembered the belt I was wearing. I repacked the suitcase (but lighter this time), snugged it tight with my belt, and we're back on our way again.

A folksy remedy for a folksy giveaway.
 
Hello.
I just want to tell you about my morningtrip to work. It was windy and it came against me with a force that almost throw me backwards with my cykle. I realy hope the wind turns before I go home :jerkit:

Bosse
 
True story, I went on a 30 mile Canoe trip with 11 other people, after our first stop for a break was when we found out I was the only one who brought a knife along for the trip.
 
Friends,

Many years ago when I was working a marked squad, we (my partner and I) pulled up behind a Mint '57 chevy at a red light. As quick as you could blink an eye, the engine reved up and blue smoke appeared, as the beautiful car burned rubber and blew through the red light. We stopped that vehicle a block up.

We walked up to the car, asked what the heck they were doing, as we were right behind them, and the driver told me ,"We just re-built the engine, and were just test-driving it ". Anyway, the driver and passenger both had an open 40 oz. on their lap. The driver didn't have a DL, nor insurance. The passenger didn't have any identification on him, and kept telling me that his name was "Willie B. Davis". I really didn't know who he was, and just wanted some form of ID, to tag and release him. I was pretty exasperated and said "Do you have anything with your name on it"? Willie dug in his pocket and brought out a sheet of paper. It was a warrant for his arrest!

We now had two for jail, and the car to car jail. (Impound lot). Before we 'cuffed them, they asked if they could finish their beer. What the heck, they were going to be locked up for a bit, so we said "OK".

About a month after that, my partner and I really got stuck in a bad situation. In a house with a bunch of mad drunk folks. We thought that this was going to go to ---- in no time, until a older guy came out of the kitchen and told the group to settle down. They did. It was Willie B. Davis. He then told the young knuckleheads that we treated him fair "about a month ago", and that was the end of this situation.

Wish that this was a "Tall Tail", but it wasn't. I think that this Case would have "felt real good" in my front pocket! :D

Kent
 
Here's my humble submission; regarding the truth of this story, I plead the fifth. (Folks' names & place names changed to protect the privacy of the parties involved.)

. . . but the 'Top Man', the 'Numero Uno', the 'Godfather of Coolness' in our family, as far as us kids were concerned, was uncle Jack. Uncle Jack knew everyone in our county & several surrounding counties; and, most importantly, uncle Jack knew things about all those people he knew in all those counties. Like bad, nasty, ruin your life, lose your wife & job & house & dog type stuff. People didn't mess with uncle Jack. If you did, the next issue of the Podunk Herald or Hillbilly Press would inform the whole county, in minute detail, about the time you stole the tires off Sheriff Henessy's cruiser in April of '67, while he was parked at Brenda's Donut Shop. And how you did it twice. (Hey, young folks do stupid stuff like that all the time. You'd think he'd be over it by now.)

The real kicker would be when the article tells with how you sold the tires at the Blainey Mountain Flea Market and used the money for an all night skinny-dipping & beer-drinking party out on the Monongohela River. Back in '67, old sheriff Henessy swore he'd have his revenge on whoever stole his tires, twice. Old sheriff Henessy just read this morning's Herald over at Della Rae's Diner, and old sheriff Henessy still has a badge; and an attitude; and a gun. And old sheriff Henessy is headin' over to yer house right about now. And uncle Jack knows nothing at all about how the Herald ever got hold of that story. Really. Scouts Honor. (He wasn't ever a boy scout. He just says "Scout's Honor" so's he'll sound more sincere & believable.) "Damn ol' 'Anonymous Tip'", he'd say. "Don't know who he is, but he needs to quit stickin' his nose in other people's business", he'd say, then wink at you & take a sip from his fruit jar . . .

"Inspired" by one of the many stories passed around at our family reunions. True? Who knows . . . ;)

Thanks Absintheur!

thx - cpr
 
How I almost died in the Mountains of Vermont

(This is a true story so I do not know if it is accepable as a Tall Story)

I decided I wanted to snowshoe across the Green Mountians in Vermont West to East.
So I snowshoed to a high montain and took a compass bearing to the mountain the other side of the range.
And started snowshoeing.
All was fine for a couple of day till....
I was passing thru a summer village all closed up and under snow.
I hear a snowmobile coming.

On the snowmobile are two very drunk locals with shotguns.
Off they get and cock their shotguns, point them at me and tell me.
"We going to shoot you Mother....er you've been thieving from these houses."

Where you from?
Where you going?
What's that foreign accent?

(I am in the middle of nowhere, not seen or talked to anyone for a couple of day, I am a little shocked!)

So I've come from Mount Gladstonbury and I am going to Mount Snow.
I could have told them I dropped off the moon...

You ....ing with us!

No, no, I'm walking on a compass bearing from one mountain to the other.
I just told them I really came from Mars....

I convinced them I would show them I wasn't lieing.
I lay the map and compass on the snow, and set up the map to the compass bearing.
I shifted a couple of feet to the side.
One guy kept his shotgun on me. the other then looked at the map and compass.

I then explained what a bearing was, and how you can walk across country using a map and compass.

Shit Bro, this Dude is for real!
Down came the shotguns.

Off they went into one of the cabins, and out comes a bottle of whiskey!
I tell them I can't drink if I am out in the cold, and then they think I am really nuts.

Got to be moving along now...
And off in to the hills again.

Life is crazy.......
 
All righty, true story. Got the dates and witnesses to back it up.

These were my great-great-grandparents, Bill and Indiana. They'd met in the usual way for couples down home, a Masonic-OES picnic, and it was love at first sight. Come April 1870, it's time for a wedding.

All goes well until afterward. The church is a fair piece from home, but Bill had a nice carriage with his fine old horse pulling along. Normal ride, until his horse trips and falls partway through. He helps the horse to its feet, steadies it, and looks it square in the eye. "That's one." he says.

Another mile passes, the horse falls again. He repeats the ritual, helps it up and steadies it. This time, he says "That's two."

As they get in sight of the house, the horse falls a third time. Bill helps it up, steadies it, reaches back into the the carriage and pulls out an old .32 revolver. Tells the horse "That's three" and shoots it clean in the head.

Indiana went certifiably nuts. Carrying on, yelling and crying. Bill just looked her in the eye and said "That's one."

Swear it's true. April 5, 1870, Martins Ferry, Ohio. Still have that old .32.
 
Congrats on 1000 posts, and thanks for the contest.

Some of you may have heard my tall tale before, however, imho, the tales just get taller with the telling, so......

I was once a member of a folk rock group called the Stealth Bombers. Coincidentally, the members of the group included three of my folksy forum friends that most of you know. I'm speaking of non-other than Thomason, Blues, and Mike Robuck. We were a quartet who specialized in playing at beauty contests in the Caribbean. As musicians, we were fair, not fantastic; but our true claim to fame was that we always parachuted onto the stage where we performed. This was a real crowd pleaser, and more than compensated for the fact that 3 of us could be outsung by a bullfrog, and Blues was the only one of us who played any instrument other than the kazoo. Thomason does do a mean rendition of "Born to Be Wild" on the alto-kazoo, however.

Just so you folks know that I don't make this stuff up, I'll share a stock promo photo we used to distribute, where I am in an inverted HALO dive with my fellow band members (Elliott, Rob, and Mike) behind me as we approach LZ Cocoa Butter at the Miss Hawaiian Tropic Aruba finals one Summer.

Unfortunately my `chute did not deploy properly, and I took out 3 judges when I "touched down" on stage. The band volunteered to sub-judge the bikini contestants though, and the Stealth Bombers(once again) saved the day. The concert was a success, Mike sold a lot of his signature souvenir man-thongs, which he proudly named the "Cheeky Sak" (probably got a picture of one around here somewhere :eek: ) and we were back on the jump plane before the original judges regained consciousness.

Btw, it's hard to find boots that stay on during those 140 mph freefalls.
Diver2.jpg


Our folk rock group has since disbanded, but the 4 of us still work together as the board of directors of the largest and most successful armpit-cured roadkill jerky producer in this galaxy.

That's my story, and I'm stickin' to it. :D
 
Hilary Clinton, a few months ago, was on campagin trail, and at a school, at a vocabulary class. The word they were studying was "tragedy." She asked:
"Can anyone give me an example of a tragedy?"
A little girl raised her hand, and said, "A tragedy would be if Billy was crossing the street and got hit by a car."
"No, no," spoke the Clinton, "That would be an accident, but not a tragedy."
The aforementioned Billy raised his hand. "A tragedy would be if we were all on our bus, and an asteroid fell out of the sky and crushed us!" he yelled, pounding his fist into his palm and making a "peowwwwwwwww" sound.
"No, Billy, that would be a great loss, but it would not be a tragedy."
A third child, Robert, a boy who was generally considered anti-social and always picked last for kickball, offered his example without raising his hand.
"A tragedy would be if you and Bill were on your airplane and it blew up or crashed and you died."
"Very good, Robert," said Hilary, "How did you know?"
Smugly, Robert said, "Well, it probably wouldn't be an accident, and it most certainly wouldn't be a great loss!"
(I swear, it's true!)
 
Can't let this thread get too low.

Being from Michigan you can only tell tall tales about two things. Deer, and Steelhead. The other stuff about Fudge suckers, two-story outhouses, trolls, Yoopers, and winter mail boxes are all true.

Since I've yet to get my 30-point-Buck as big as a Buick (Which we do have here but only in Da U.P., eh). As they say, "You can cut the back-straps off a U.P. buck and feed the entire state of Wisconsin".

I'm not too good at catchin' Steelhead either, so, I'll have to settle for a bold faced lie.

I love my job!!

(Its what keeps me from reaching my real goals - the two mentioned above)

Chris
 
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