Tell everyone something interesting about yourself in this thread.

When I was around 11 years old, my parents took my sister and I to a karate tournament (tae kwon do) in Little Rock, Arkansas. I was a green belt and I competed in the tournament.

I did pretty good. After the tournament, my parents took us to McDonalds. I used the restroom upon arrival. I heard some teenagers coming and they were cursing and being very loud. I got nervous and went into the stall. When they came in, one of the kids dropped a switch blade and it landed slightly under the stall, right at where my feet should have been.

I had my feet slightly elevated so that the kids would not notice me. Unfortunately, the kid that picked up the knife saw my elevated feet and told me to come out. I walked out and he pinned me against the wall. I was terrified. He made fun of me in my karate outfit. Then the group walked out.

I walked out shortly after, trying to regain my composure. As I made way down the aisle, I noticed that same kid (the group leader) was standing outside his booth with his dad. When I walked through, the kid once again stopped me. His dad looked at me and said,

"Pussy kid should learn to fight the real way. Son, you don't need karate, look at that scared piece of shit."

I edged my way by him slightly, feeling like the rule of masses applied. If he did anything to me, a group would surely break it up.

I went back to my table and sat down with my family. My dad took my cheeseburgers away and said,

"You don't eat until you settle that problem. I want you to walk over to that kid and I want you to knock him out in line."

By this time, the kid was in line with his dad. I began to shake and requested that I not perform the task. My mom lobbied for my request. The request was denied.

So I got up from my seat. I approached the kid. I made my way through groups of people, some of which accused me of cutting, and I tapped him on the shoulder.

He turned, he laughed and he pointed, alerting his dad of my presence.

"Hey Dad, look, the karate kid is back for more. He looks like he is going to cry."

That may well have been true. But what he didn't know was that I grew up rough. My dad often made me fight kids that picked on me. I was injured all the time.

So I used a closed fist and I punched him in his mouth, knocking him back into the crowd, drawing a massive and predictable group intervention. I was shoved back and the kid was screaming wiping the slight blood smears from his busted lower lip.

I went back to the table. I sat down and picked up my cheeseburger and began to nervously eating.

"You never let anyone push you around."

About two bites into my cheeseburger, the kids dad approached with his injured son in tow. The son was behind him, rejecting all ideas that he had been taken, yet not stepping in front of his dad.

"I should let my son beat your son's fucking ass."

My dad took another bite of his big mac. And then he glared up.

"Deal. I will send my son outside, I will let your older and stronger son beat my son up. But my son will not quit. But understand, at the same time, I am going beat the shit out of your scrawny ass."

The dad looked at him with confusion. I sat still, feeling the nervous energy a chicken must feel before being released in a chicken pin with 50 thai men waiving bills.

The dad mustered something under his breath, and then walked away.

Funny, today, I am not afraid of much. I love being challenged. The things I was scared of as a kid, I am not afraid of as an adult.

Not sure if that story is a good thing or a bad thing, but it is probably like anything, if you take the good from it and you understand the bad, it makes it a good thing.

At 19 years old I dated the very first male stripper to show his dick on a stage in North-America.

This thread is awesome

I once went to professional wrestling school, I think about 5 or 6 years ago. I was there for about a year or so until the federation I was training with hit some rough times. I still have video of training somewhere.

Post the video!

I did a nude photoshoot a couple years ago, it was exhausting

Pictures?

I grew up very poor, my mother was married 5 times to differant truck drivers.

I don't know my father.

My mother and two sisters are addicated to Meth.

My uncle died of drug overdose.

My aunt was molested by my grandfather.. She disconnected a long time ago.
I do not talk to anyone who is related to me.





My life now is the exact opposite of how I grew up but, I can't get over my childhood.

I guess I was lucky. I have never smoked a cigeratte, done any drugs, and I don't drink.

We have 3 green iguanas, two cuban rock iguanas. two Mexican spiney tailed iguanas, two bearded dragons, 5 leopard geckos, a nile monitor, a water dragon, a black and white Argentinian Tegu, various corns snakes, 4 boa constrictors, a spotted python, 3 sawu island pythons, 2 royal (ball) pythons, two blue tongued skinks, two orange spotted agamas, 3 Colombian rainbow boas, a Brazilian rainbow boa, 6 rosy boas, 3 sunbeam snakes, 7 sugar gliders, two skunks, an acacia rat and a dog.

When I was around 11 years old, my parents took my sister and I to a karate tournament (tae kwon do) in Little Rock, Arkansas. I was a green belt and I competed in the tournament.

I did pretty good. After the tournament, my parents took us to McDonalds. I used the restroom upon arrival. I heard some teenagers coming and they were cursing and being very loud. I got nervous and went into the stall. When they came in, one of the kids dropped a switch blade and it landed slightly under the stall, right at where my feet should have been.

I had my feet slightly elevated so that the kids would not notice me. Unfortunately, the kid that picked up the knife saw my elevated feet and told me to come out. I walked out and he pinned me against the wall. I was terrified. He made fun of me in my karate outfit. Then the group walked out.

I walked out shortly after, trying to regain my composure. As I made way down the aisle, I noticed that same kid (the group leader) was standing outside his booth with his dad. When I walked through, the kid once again stopped me. His dad looked at me and said,

"Pussy kid should learn to fight the real way. Son, you don't need karate, look at that scared piece of shit."

I edged my way by him slightly, feeling like the rule of masses applied. If he did anything to me, a group would surely break it up.

I went back to my table and sat down with my family. My dad took my cheeseburgers away and said,

"You don't eat until you settle that problem. I want you to walk over to that kid and I want you to knock him out in line."

By this time, the kid was in line with his dad. I began to shake and requested that I not perform the task. My mom lobbied for my request. The request was denied.

So I got up from my seat. I approached the kid. I made my way through groups of people, some of which accused me of cutting, and I tapped him on the shoulder.

He turned, he laughed and he pointed, alerting his dad of my presence.

"Hey Dad, look, the karate kid is back for more. He looks like he is going to cry."

That may well have been true. But what he didn't know was that I grew up rough. My dad often made me fight kids that picked on me. I was injured all the time.

So I used a closed fist and I punched him in his mouth, knocking him back into the crowd, drawing a massive and predictable group intervention. I was shoved back and the kid was screaming wiping the slight blood smears from his busted lower lip.

I went back to the table. I sat down and picked up my cheeseburger and began to nervously eating.

"You never let anyone push you around."

About two bites into my cheeseburger, the kids dad approached with his injured son in tow. The son was behind him, rejecting all ideas that he had been taken, yet not stepping in front of his dad.

"I should let my son beat your son's fucking ass."

My dad took another bite of his big mac. And then he glared up.

"Deal. I will send my son outside, I will let your older and stronger son beat my son up. But my son will not quit. But understand, at the same time, I am going beat the shit out of your scrawny ass."

The dad looked at him with confusion. I sat still, feeling the nervous energy a chicken must feel before being released in a chicken pin with 50 thai men waiving bills.

The dad mustered something under his breath, and then walked away.

Funny, today, I am not afraid of much. I love being challenged. The things I was scared of as a kid, I am not afraid of as an adult.

Not sure if that story is a good thing or a bad thing, but it is probably like anything, if you take the good from it and you understand the bad, it makes it a good thing.

I've made out with Dwreck. How many girls can say that?

I was born with six nipples and a prehensile tail





This pick isn't me though. I'm as white as they cum

I was in a plane just about an hour outside the New York coast when the 2 towers were hit on september 11th 2001.
On a BA flight from London to Dallas.

Needless to say, I did not get to Dallas, but spent 3 nights sleeping in a church in Newfoundland.

I've made out with Dwreck.

Crazy stuff.

When were you first told what happened?

the best revenge is living well

I'm near a fuckin' breakdown.... I'm 26years old, been engaged 3 times before and now on my fourth.... and final I love him so much! Getting married scares me shitless, i get the itches and break out in hives on my arms. Sooooo.... this is going to be our secret guys, shhhhh

We going to elope, get the quickie wedding either in Hawaii or Vegas!!!!

Shhhhh.... can't tell anyone because my parents will kill me. They don't think I should be with a white man. Don't tell himthat either. They've never met.

Yikes! I'm getting married

When we had landed at Gander airport.
Had this monitor in the seat in front of me, and was flipping through the channels, and came across the flight info channel... Has this map on it with a red line behind the plane to see where we had gone.. And it had made a long U-turn without anyone noticing. I thought it was an error and flipped through to a movie.

Then the captain came on and told us we had to land in Gander, Newfoundland ( which is basically in the middle of nowhere ) because US airspace was closed. Started to get kinda worried then...

Then when we landed ( we were plane # 7 out of 38 to land on this tiny airport ) the captain turned on BBC World News...

We sat in that plane another 7-8 hours on the tarmac before being let off ( they let us off in the order that we landed, so we were lucky, the last planes did not disembark for another 30 hours or so... )

Then I slept on a church bench for 3 nights next to some woman that was living in Saudi Arabia. The Salvation Army fed us all the time, was quite an experience, it is actually beautiful up there.

After that, we got flown back to London, and me on to Copenhagen. ( Missed Brad's housewarming party in Dallas )
Here is a pic from the airport:


I will always be extremely grateful to the people in Gander, never met so unselfish and helpful people in all my life.