Stories

Introductions First of all, before I get started I think I ought to kind of introduce some of the people that are in these stories. Please keep in mind that all of these people really do exist and really did do what's in the stories. I emphasize that because they sound like bullshit even to me, and I was there to witness most of this stuff.

Paul- What can I say about Paul... hmmm... let me think. He's a couple of years older than most of the rest of us, and used to get mad pretty easily. And when he got mad, lots of stupid shit happened. Funny then, and funny now, but in retrospect we're lucky that no one ever got hurt. Paul used to be perhaps the finest shit talker in all of Richardson Texas- quite a feat considering his competition. Paul owned one of the vehicles that was crucial to many of our stories- "the grey truck". More on that later.
Bridger- Bridger is and was one of those guys whose opinion everyone wants. And it's his opinion you'll get, whether you want it or not; so everyone wanting his opinion usually worked out pretty well. Bridger used to love to talk shit, but in a funny way, so that people never knew whether he was kidding or being an asshole. Usually he was being an asshole, but it was so funny that no one did anything about it. Don't misunderstand me, it isn't that Bridger's an asshole, it's just that he's going to say what he has to say whether you like it or not. Bridger owned another vehicle that was pretty crucial in a couple of our stories- "the suburban". Catchy nicknames, huh??
Rob- Rob is the kind of guy that your mother warned you about. Well, in high school he was anyway. He would raise hell at the drop of a hat- you could get him do do anything by telling him that "If Troy was here, he'd do it." I mean anything, from driving through someone's yard to running from the cops, Rob would do it. Occasionally he needed a little ecouragement with the Troy jab, but most of the time he did it on his own. Rob was and is notorious for being a cheap ass- he will spend 3 hours making something that he could have bought for $10. He's just like that I guess. Due to his tendency to get crazy, Rob owned not one, not two, not even three, but four (count 'em!!) vehicles that play crucial parts in many of these stories- "the Taurus", "the Crapi", "the Chicken", and "Buckwheat".
Troy- If Rob was the kind of guy that your mother warned you about then Troy was the guy that she read about in the paper, shaking her head and muttering "Sad. His poor mother." I didn't get to spend a whole bunch of time with Troy before he moved, but his antics are still legendary to this day. Troy would do anything that involved pissing people off, I don't care what it was. He was the kind of guy whom, if asked politely to be quiet, would go out of his way just to be loud and piss you off. He enjoyed it. In retrospect, a lot of other people enjoy it too- it's fun to hear (or read) about someone who would do whatever he pleased just because it pleased him. A lot of the adjectives I'm using are past tense, and that's because Troy has changed- he has calmed down quite a bit and is living a suprisingly domesticated life in Illinois. He owned a couple of the vehicles that were involved in some stories- "the Camaro", and "the purple truck". We're so creative with our nicknames, it's driving me nuts.
Mason- Mason was the guy who studied, got good grades, and got crazy on the weekend. He'd get crazy with the rest of us, but then behave when it really mattered, so he didn't get in much trouble. He's a tall skinny guy and he got mad pretty easily, so he got picked on a lot, especially by Paul. Mason has a hot sister named Courtney who Rob wants to bang. Big surprise there.
Steve Hamilton- The first of three Steves; as you can imagine, they all got called by their last names. That's why these are the only last names you'll see here. Anyhoo, Hamilton was another crazy man- anything you wanted done would get done for the promise of a Value Meal at McDonalds. Anything from snorting tarter sause for a quarter (ouch!!) to taking a shit down the ventilation tube at Hooten's Transmissions, Steve would do. Perhaps the craziest among us, Steve would do anything if you convinced him it was cool enough and you joined in. If you didn't join in, you had to buy him a Value Meal. As you may can imagine, we had a lot of fun with Steve before he met Julie (now his wife) and she castrated him. After that he was still fun, but he wasn't the Hamilton of old. He is currently in the US Navy living over in Italy somewhere doing his best to cause an international incident. Come on, Steve- push that button, it'll be cool and I'll buy you a Value Meal, man. You can even up-size it. Hamilton had a sister, a brother, and a father who were sometimes involved in our stories: Angie, Paul (sometimes called "Gawrsh"), and Bub, respectively. Hamilton owned two vehicles that were involved in our stories- "the Toyota", and (this is SO original) "Hamilton's blue Mustang".
Steve Wolf- Wolf was a really, ah, unique kind of guy. He was tall and skinny, filthy rich, and wanted to be white trash. He thought that was just so cool. Hanging out with us was a pretty good start. Anyhoo, Wolf was the kind of guy that no one was really sure what to make of him- I mean, he would do really wierd stuff (like humping filing cabinets in study hall), but he was harmless. A lot of folks thought he was on drugs, but to my knowledge he wasn't on anything stronger than dope; certainly nothing strong enough to make him borrow Steve Roberts' Shop Vac, strap it in to the front seat of his car and call it Fred. But he did it despite the lack of outside influences. Like I said, a pretty unique guy. He's currently at college, and last time I spoke with him he wanted to start a porn studio after he graduated. Good luck, Wolf- don't forget to put a parachute on your soldier, man. Wolf owned a couple of cars that were involved in the stories- "Wolf's Suburban", and "the Road Runner".
Steve Roberts- Roberts is... strange, to say the least. Perhaps "neurotic" even describes him better. If someone belches around him, he freaks out- I mean to the point of wanting to beat the hell out of who ever belched; and he is a pretty big guy. Yeah, Roberts is a little off. Rumor has it that he fried his brain on various banned substances, and whether it was true or not, it was pretty apparent that he was a couple of bricks short of a shithouse. He once duct taped a guy in a chair, lit a blow torch, and started to hold it up to the guy in the chair to burn him before we called a halt to it. We never did see the guy that got strapped in the chair again. We hung around Roberts because he was a car guy; Rob was really the only person that would talk to him for the sake of talking to him. He made the rest of us pretty nervous. Roberts owned a couple of cars that were involved in a couple of our stories- "Roberts' red Mustang", and "Roberts' white Mustang". More of those creative nicknames for ya. Note: You may find it interesting that Roberts actually shot himself in the leg once. He used to have this little piece of shit Nissan low rider truck that rode rough as hell- well, one night he was cruising around with a loaded .22 pistol with his finger on the trigger. I don't know why, like I said, he was a little off. Anyhow, he hit a bump in his rough riding little truck and somehow squeezed the trigger and shot himself in the leg.
Chris- Chris is a trusting soul who honestly believes in giving everyone the benefit of the doubt. Because of this, he gets fucked over pretty often. I do have to say though, that he's a pretty good guy who will do anything he can to help you out. We all used to hang out at Chris's house, watching TV, eating his family's candy, and drinking beer. His mom was pretty cool about it, even on week nights, as long as we kept it quiet after she went to bed. Chris's was the default place to find people- if you were looking for "the group", then your best bet was to start at Chris's house. His neighbors freaked out from time to time, but mostly they were cool with it too. Anyhow, Chris is perhaps the easiest of all of us to upset; this fact made him the target of a lot of kidding. He'd get pissed, ban everyone from his house, and then we'd show up the next night like nothing ever happened. I can't even tell you how many times that happened. If you want to have some fun with Chris, tell him you've got his pencil, his Mapsco, and his Blowpop. He'll understand. Chris owned a couple of vehicles that were involved in some stories- "Chris' red Mustang", "Chris' blue Mustang", and "the S10".
James- James was introduced to the group by Rob, although he had known many of us since junior high; they met at work- Burger King. Because of those two, I go out of my way to be especially friendly and patient when ordering at a drive through. Man, they did some nasty shit to people's food. Anyhow, James is probably the "party guy" in the group who would always do anything for a laugh. He's notorious for spontaneous moonings, disco dancing, and his fag impersonation. That fag impersonation is so good that many of us have strongly entertained the possibility that it may not be an impersonation, you know? Anyhow, James is a shit talker, and that's half the fun with him: sifting through the bullshit that he throws out just for humorous purposes in order to find out the real story. James owned a couple of vehicles that were important at times- "James' shitheap", and "the T".
Jon- Jon is one of those people who are so dumb, you wonder how they remember to breathe. While a good guy at heart, he is always doing something goofy- he can be in a room full of people, all watching a movie, and turn to you and ask you what kind of tires you think he should put on his truck. I think his quote in our senior yearbook was "Huh?" Anyhow, Jon smokes like a chimney and is a walking hormone. Not smooth, just a hormone. The wierd thing is, though- he's a hormone with very strict standards. It's almost as if he carries a checklist in his wallet that each chick must meet before he goes to chasing after her. Between 5'0" and 5'6", check. Brown hair, check. Hair past the shoulders, check. Smokes, check. Psychotic, check. He currently thinks he's a country boy and wants a country girl because he thinks they aren't crazy like the city girls he's known. I told him that all women are crazy, but he doesn't believe me. To hell with him; he'll learn. For some reason Jon absolutely must drive whenever we all go somewhere. I don't understand. Jon owned a couple vehicles we used to raise hell in- "doo doo brown", "the Ranger", and simply, "Jon's truck".

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