MACE

[the leftovers]

da,mn shai that sucks/.....what about tazored...or however its spelled...

[LIVERWURST*]

LOL ^ reputation..............

for what? typing shit behind a computer? damn judging by how many comments he has........sporty and fanny pack status..........he is....

 

You have negative reputation.

[Ape Shit]

i wanna hear more about the dead guy eye.

[the leftovers]

my reputation changes on a daily basis.....wether in drunk or not...man talk

[the leftovers]

yah,....cornea transplant...

donor......

never knew his name...

BUT i have had weird ass dreams since...about somebody else....

[LIVERWURST*]

Saying "man talk" sounds like you should be hanging out in bath houses.

[the leftovers]

fuck my negative reputation..its cause im drunk....

sober is a different story...2people were talking about here

[the leftovers]

ok...say that 2 the homies in the man talk thread...

see what they say

[LIVERWURST*]

That thread is the online version of a bath house.

[Spitfire15]

[Guest shai_hulud]

da,mn shai that sucks/.....what about tazored...or however its spelled...

 

Yeah, I've been tasered a few times. It's prety gnarly, but it's over relatively quickly. I've been beaten up by the cops before, held for 36 hours without a phone call or being processed, jacked up and sent through the system over a gram of weed that ended up costing me three grand...

 

I also broke out of a detainment area set up during the first Gulf War demonstrations in SF in 1991. I was on this peaceful march down Haight Street that got diverted by a skirmish line of cops in riot gear down Octavia street. When we got to Octavia and Fell, someone started throwing canisters of CS gas out of a window...everybody took bandannas and soaked them in water so we could get past that. Suddenly, we realized we were boxed in on three sides by cops with riot gear. People started panicking, and tried to go back the way we came...but, it's really hard to throw a 3000+ person march in reverse, so I figured the best thing to do woiuld be to cut straight across it and hop a fence that led to the shutdown Central Freeway onramp.

 

I got grabbed from behind, thrown on the ground REALLY hard, and ziptied hand and foot. I was let like that for five minutes, then a paddy wagon came by and scooped me up after the crowd had dispered enough to let it through.

 

They took us to a holding area at Pier 26. Back then, the waterfront was a lot more rugged...it used to be really spooky and dark, but noe it's all developed (thanks to the ball park). I thought they were gonna beat the shit out of us, but they just brought us into a big pen made out of chain link fence, then cut the zipties and told us we'd be cited and released. Since I was a minor, I knew I would be held till my dad could come get me, and I wanted no part of that...about five minutes later, I saw a buch of people heading for one dark corner of the pen. Someone had come prepared, with a pair of tim snips and was cutting a hole in the fence. Pretty soon, we were out the hole and out the back door of the pier (It's covered like a warehouse). We (me and about 10 other people) just skirted along the side of the pier and waited till they were letting a paddy wagon in, and broke out. There weren't many streetlights out there then, so it was pretty easy to get away. I ran for the Transbay terminal (bus station) down Beale Street...when I got to just before Folsom, I saw a bunch of people rocking a cop car. I stopped, because there weren't ANY cops in that area, and there were about 300 really pissed off anarchists there...they finally flipped it, and that's when I saw someone run up on it with a Molotov cocktail...they tossed it in the back seat, and that's when I REALLY I started running, since that was some shit I did NOT want to have to deal with in case the cops grew balls suddenly and pulled a move like they had done in Hayes Valley on the earlier march.

 

I got about a block away and heard the cop car go BOOOOM. It wasn't loud, but since it was under the bridge the bass was really heavy...I started sprinting to the bus station, and made it there in about a minute...went home, locked myself in my room and smoked all my weed, but still couldn't stop shaking or calm down till the next day.

 

It was definitely one of the craziest nights of my life, where everything just sort of aligned so I could experience it but not get fucked over for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

[john brown]

wtf? dudes are strapped with mace these days?

[DRUNKEN-ASSHOLE-ONER]

Awesome story Shai.

 

Propsbutton.

[falseface]

[Edward Orenthal Norton]

all i can think about when i hear about MACE is dayday on the ground cryin.(Next Friday)

[Mercer]

Yeah, I've been tasered a few times. It's prety gnarly, but it's over relatively quickly. I've been beaten up by the cops before, held for 36 hours without a phone call or being processed, jacked up and sent through the system over a gram of weed that ended up costing me three grand...

 

I also broke out of a detainment area set up during the first Gulf War demonstrations in SF in 1991. I was on this peaceful march down Haight Street that got diverted by a skirmish line of cops in riot gear down Octavia street. When we got to Octavia and Fell, someone started throwing canisters of CS gas out of a window...everybody took bandannas and soaked them in water so we could get past that. Suddenly, we realized we were boxed in on three sides by cops with riot gear. People started panicking, and tried to go back the way we came...but, it's really hard to throw a 3000+ person march in reverse, so I figured the best thing to do woiuld be to cut straight across it and hop a fence that led to the shutdown Central Freeway onramp.

 

I got grabbed from behind, thrown on the ground REALLY hard, and ziptied hand and foot. I was let like that for five minutes, then a paddy wagon came by and scooped me up after the crowd had dispered enough to let it through.

 

They took us to a holding area at Pier 26. Back then, the waterfront was a lot more rugged...it used to be really spooky and dark, but noe it's all developed (thanks to the ball park). I thought they were gonna beat the shit out of us, but they just brought us into a big pen made out of chain link fence, then cut the zipties and told us we'd be cited and released. Since I was a minor, I knew I would be held till my dad could come get me, and I wanted no part of that...about five minutes later, I saw a buch of people heading for one dark corner of the pen. Someone had come prepared, with a pair of tim snips and was cutting a hole in the fence. Pretty soon, we were out the hole and out the back door of the pier (It's covered like a warehouse). We (me and about 10 other people) just skirted along the side of the pier and waited till they were letting a paddy wagon in, and broke out. There weren't many streetlights out there then, so it was pretty easy to get away. I ran for the Transbay terminal (bus station) down Beale Street...when I got to just before Folsom, I saw a bunch of people rocking a cop car. I stopped, because there weren't ANY cops in that area, and there were about 300 really pissed off anarchists there...they finally flipped it, and that's when I saw someone run up on it with a Molotov cocktail...they tossed it in the back seat, and that's when I REALLY I started running, since that was some shit I did NOT want to have to deal with in case the cops grew balls suddenly and pulled a move like they had done in Hayes Valley on the earlier march.

 

I got about a block away and heard the cop car go BOOOOM. It wasn't loud, but since it was under the bridge the bass was really heavy...I started sprinting to the bus station, and made it there in about a minute...went home, locked myself in my room and smoked all my weed, but still couldn't stop shaking or calm down till the next day.

 

It was definitely one of the craziest nights of my life, where everything just sort of aligned so I could experience it but not get fucked over for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

 

 

The moral of the story, cutters are good to have.

[Spitfire15]

 

...

[the leftovers]

mace sucks..........people are laced..

[c-walk]

^^^^ (spitfire) hahaha best thing in this thread

[Guest shai_hulud]

Awesome story Shai.

 

Propsbutton.

 

Thanks.

 

The funny thing is that I got SO much heat for not going to the 2003 protests. I was recovering from an injury, and I just didn't want to put myself in harm's way. I basically told a lot of my younger radical friends that I was protesting the first Gulf War the first George Bush started when they were still in grade school, and took my lumps for it then. I had nothing to prove then and even less to prove now. I did some wheatpasting and a bunch of political graff about the war the second time around. I didn't go to jail or get beat up like some of them did...so, I got away clean. Who's to say?

 

I'm getting old, I just can't do the same kinds of things I did when I was younger. I've had to change up my approach a lot since then.

 

Also, San Francisco used to be a much grimier place after the 1989 earthquake. There were tons of abandoned buildings and pits all over the place, and places like the Mission and the Tenderloin were places you just didn't go to after dark unless you were up to no good. Gentrification has killed off a lot of what made SF a fun place to live. Shit, there used to be a tent city across the street from City Hall for years, and it took weeks for the cops to break it up...I squatted for about three years in the early 90's, and it was easy because I had plenty of empty buildings to choose from. A lot of the people I squatted with were punks and anarchists who just did not give a fuck. Sadly, a lot of them are dead now, thanks to heroin, AIDS, and hard living.

 

I don't know. I've just seen so much crazy shit that when table talks about how they got maced by their baby momma's brother's friend and didn't do ANYTHING after the fact, I think, "Why didn't that post end with how the dude's jaw got broken?"

 

No offense to table. Then again, it's not just him. I feel that, nowadays, a lot of people just let shitty things that happen to them slide without any kind of retaliation. It seems like that's out of fear of escalation...I don't know. Table does have a kid, that considerably changes things.

 

I'm a peaceful guy. Mostly, what that means is that I never throw the first puch. I don't believe in violence as a solution. But, if someone fucks with me I'm gonna let him know in no uncertain terms that he should think twice about doing it in the future.

 

Enough rambling.

[CALIgula]

[DRUNKEN-ASSHOLE-ONER]

 

I don't know. I've just seen so much crazy shit that when table talks about how they got maced by their baby momma's brother's friend and didn't do ANYTHING after the fact, I think, "Why didn't that post end with how the dude's jaw got broken?"

 

No offense to table. Then again, it's not just him. I feel that, nowadays, a lot of people just let shitty things that happen to them slide without any kind of retaliation. It seems like that's out of fear of escalation...

 

True story. Todays generation is straight up pussyfied.

I laugh my ass off when I see them on here talking about "todays generation is violent, kids is wild these days". LMFAO!!!

These kids don't even know.

[wayne hits]

learn to CONJUGATE A SENTANCE fag.

[wayne hits]

i would like to hear table scraps talk in real life.

[the leftovers]

ey now, give me a break..i was drunk typing when i made this thread.....and dont really remember it...but good stories though....

[blood fart]

I can't figure out what is trying to be said in here.

So I will do what I do.

And talk about myself.

 

When I was about 14 and living in Northern VA, all my skate buddies would come hang out at my house and we would drink and all that stuff.

We were pretty far into the night and I went to get a beer.

Was standing around talking drunk talk about this or that.

My mom comes up to get a beer.

She had put her beers in the crisper and forgot about them.

Accused my brother of drinking her last beer.

He didn't.

Either way, she pulls out some pepper spray.

And attempts to spray my brother with it.

He stepped to the side.

I took it in the eye.

 

Instantly blinded and still horribly drunk, the only thing that made sense was to start running.

So I ran through the house screaming.

Running into walls and knocking myself down.

Get back up and keep running.

I somehow figured out where the bathroom was and locked myself in there.

Rolled around on the floor screaming about my demon mother.

My friends had to kick the door in and spray me down with the shower massager.

 

It hurted pretty bad.

My mom laughed about it.

I don't think she ever apologized.

 

The police have maced me a few times.

Once when I was fighting some frat dudes downtown.

The other times I don't really remember at all due to excessive drinking and being in a black out.

But my eyes/face were red in the morning.

And they let me know they had to put me in check.

[blood fart]

Also, San Francisco used to be a much grimier place after the 1989 earthquake. There were tons of abandoned buildings and pits all over the place, and places like the Mission and the Tenderloin were places you just didn't go to after dark unless you were up to no good. Gentrification has killed off a lot of what made SF a fun place to live. Shit, there used to be a tent city across the street from City Hall for years, and it took weeks for the cops to break it up...I squatted for about three years in the early 90's, and it was easy because I had plenty of empty buildings to choose from. A lot of the people I squatted with were punks and anarchists who just did not give a fuck. Sadly, a lot of them are dead now, thanks to heroin, AIDS, and hard living.

 

 

I used to live in that lot in the alley by the Greyhound station.

I would get woken up all the time by kids coming down to take photos of the graffiti.

They would apologize.

I wouldn't mind at all.

 

That lot ran for quite a number of years.

It was nice for the time when I lived there.

I had a nice room up away from the rats and everyone else.

Wasn't that bad for scumbag living.

 

The gnarliest thing though was the trash piles.

People would throw their used syringes in the trash pile.

I actually saw one of my buddies digging around looking for a syringe to use.

Taking pieces from different ones.

All used.

It made me shudder.

That dude was insane anyways and the rumor going was that he had AIDS since I met him.

He denied it.

I didn't believe him.

He once took a knife to his shins and removed all his leg skin.

His living caught up with him and now he's dead.

So it goes.

[Guest shai_hulud]

That's funny, BF...I used to hang in that pit a lot. I never lived there, though. My friends painted there for about three years (96-99). Did you ever see the "Kid Rock" piece? I was with my friend HEIR2 and he couldn't decide what he wanted to write, so we said, "Ummmm...Kid Rock." And he did a Kid Rock piece, no sketch...burned it, too.

 

That lot was okay, but it was also a seriously fucked up place. I spent some time on the nod there...I'd eat lunch there when I was a messenger sometimes. Smoke weed there...it was a nice little private spot. I always respected the people who lived there and let them know I wasn't there to mess with them or blow up the spot. In turn they were always cool to me. I'd give people change and smokes when I had them to share. Maybe I talked to you once or twice. You never know.

 

They filled in the pit and built a parking lot there about two years ago. There's so much new construction in the Financial District...they're talking about tearing down the Transbay Terminal and building a 1200 foot skyscraper there. Crazy.

 

Oh, yeah...me and some friends squatted 535 Mission for about 9 months in 1993. Great warehouse...had power and water, and we changed all the locks. Eventually they sold the land, and now there's a high-rise there. Oh well.

[MOE-LESTER]

this kid table scraps has a kid?

 

 

 

i feel really really sorry for that kid.

[blood fart]

I lived there in 99..the lot, that is.

We very well could have met and talked before.

 

I lived on the "stage" that was on the right hand side (looking down from the entrance)

It was nice because I was away from everyone else and had some sort of privacy.

A ton of dudes helped me fix it up pretty nice with this strange peel-and-stick insulation that was probably to go underneath carpeting.

Some couches and beds.

Until I got drunk and threw one of the couches out the "window".

Either way, it was nice at the time.

I couldn't imagine living there (or a place like that ) again.

 

I was there when the owners kicked us all out.

A few of my friends got paid to clean up all the wreckage.

They said the rest of the crew that was working with them was totally disgusted and scared to touch anything.

 

I don't remember many pieces that were down there because I was pretty messed up at that point in my life.

Too much of everything.

But I can remember there being some stuff that totally blew my mind.

 

During that time, I had a Rottweiler doggy that meant everything to me.

I would dress him in cute collegiate sweaters from Banana Republic.

He somehow figured out how to get in and out by himself.

And would walk over to the Greyhound station to get drinks of water and hang out with the security guards.

He ended up getting throw off a train when I was going from Oakland to Portland.

 

It wasn't as bad as some other lots.

There was one in Jesse alley between Market and Mission.

Right across from the methadone clinic.

I guess around 5th or 6th.

That place was always full of creepy crackhead dudes and gnar'ed out crack whores turning tricks on mattresses that smelled like AIDS and old grease.

 

I lived in some warehouse on Market around 4-5th.

It was huge and pretty nice.

We had electricity and water and all that.

And endless fancy paper Hilfiger shopping bags that were excellent for racking various items around town to be sold on Market for way less than they were worth.

The cops ended up taking that away from us.