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Tub Time, A-Day edition......

Dammit Lewis

ASK ME ABOUT MY TUB
Gold Member
Feb 2, 2005
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Fountain Inn, SC
(rated PG, I promise):

So, I decided it was time to heat up the Tub and soak these puppies in an Epsom bath. It won't break tradition because we do have a game tomorrow, even if we are just playing with ourselves.

I'm drinking an "Old Fashion" and smoking a Ghurka Abuelo Rum Cigar (love these things). I've got several cups of Epsom and Himalayan salt in my Tub. It's actually great tubbing weather tonight. Nice and chilly.

If you don't know what Tub Time is, then you must be a newbie. The night before a big game, Shug used to soak in a hot tub. That tradition was past down to Dye and then became lost, until Tuberville found an old leather bound journal of Dye's explaining the tradition of a relaxing soak before game day. Now I carry that tradition on in my own backyard........completely nude and in the open........and I tell tales of yesteryear with my Bunker brethren. Sometimes the stories correlate to the game and sometimes they don't. If they do it's pure happenstance or extraneous reaching on my part.

I will keep this thread PG, so that it will not get moved like my fissure thread this morning did.

When I was 10, my parents made two big mistakes; they got preggers with my little brother (at 40) and, secondly, let me stay with my best friend while they were in the hospital (1 1/2 months for bedrest/preeclampsia etc....). That Summer (1992), "Crotch" and I unleashed retribution upon the neighborhood of SilverCreek unlike anything those folks had ever seen. The Apocalypse had broken loose and two 10 year olds brought forth pestilence, famine, war and death upon that community (we watched alot of X-Men the animated show, Apocalypse and his Four Horsemen we our favorite villains). Summer has a way of unleashing the recently bridled passions of youngsters who've been held to the confines of a school yard for months on end.

Pestilence: The first three days, "Crotch" and I caught two boxes full of frogs and toads down at the creek behind his home. Then late one night we snuck out and let the frogs/toads go in the community pool. The next morning we got up early and went to see the results. The swimteam had gotten to the pool at the break of dawn and only noticed the creatures in the water upon their first laps of warm-up. The pool was shut down the rest of the day, as the lifeguards captured the amphibians and tried to figure out if they'd missed something with the chlorine levels.

Famine: About a week after pestilence, "Crotch" and I returned to the community pool. It was about midnight and we were exhausted from running from the forest phantoms that lived in his woods. I was thirsty. He had thirst quenching refreshment in the form of the community pool vending machines. We jumped the fence and "Crotch" said, "I've watched the lifeguard get free drinks by holding down the button for the drink he wanted and unplugging the machine and plugging it back in." So we tried it. I held down Dr. Pepper while "Crotch" unplugged the machine and then plugged it back in. Voila, refreshing beverage. We went back to his house and grabbed a cooler. We spent two hours emptying that bad boy of refreshments. We tried it on the snack machine to no avail, but we had sugary drinks for the rest of the summer. The pool obviously was left bereft of cool beverages until the next Coke truck could come through and reload the machine......they actually replaced the whole machine with one that didn't give away it's goodies like that girl we all knew who, was a year ahead of everyone due to steroids in meat products......you know the girl.

War: One past time we had was hiding in bushes while taking bottle rockets and aiming them with PVC pipe at cars of high schoolers (typically) coming into the neighborhood from late night summer parties. They'd all start rolling in from their "keggers" about 1 or 2AM (including both of "Crotches" older sisters). It was a blast to fire rockets right at the windshields. We rarely got them to blowup on time but when we got the timing right, it was pure bliss. Even the untimely ones would screech and squeal as they smacked into the cars and then shot up into the air and exploded.......then we'd run like hell. Sometimes they got out and chased, but "Crotch" new that neighborhood and the woods behind it better than anyone. We got one rocket to go into his sister's car and blow up in the back seat. Whether she knew it was us or not, it didn't matter, cause she wasn't suppose to be out drinking at 17 years old (therefore, she'd be telling on herself as well).

Death: One day in late July, we were testing our PVC Rocket Gun and one of the rockets flew into a bush. It exploded along with what sounded like screams of tiny creatures. We ran over to the bush to find a Red Breasted Robins nest in total shambles. The carnage was real. As we tearfully watched the two baby birds give their last breathes, our enjoyment and innocence vanished. We put away the rockets. We went to bed early that night. The next day my mom had given birth to my little brother and I was off to the hospital to meet him and my older brother (who'd been at camp).

Even though there was still three weeks of summer vacation left, my work was done. I'd tormented a neighborhood and taken lives in the process. I was ready to be back in school so that my "evil" could be contained; back to the constraints of cinder block walls, torturous studies, and under the vigilant gaze of a strict warden. We'd become hardened criminals in the matter of weeks and society was better off with us incarcerated again. We were better off as well.
 
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I was just trying to remember when, exactly, tub time jumped the shark, but it's been so long ago that I can't recall. I used to like it back in the day too.
You know what, I'm sorry. The illiterate jab was unnecessary. I love you whether you read it or not. If you don't enjoy my posts, I'm cool with it....i won't stop, but I'm still cool with it.
 
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You know what, I'm sorry. The illiterate jab was unnecessary. I love you whether you read it or not. If you don't enjoy my posts, I'm cool with it....i won't stop, but I'm still cool with it.
Just too long and seems like you're trying too hard. Get back to your roots, man! Tub time was gold back in the day
 
I can always change content @Jay G. Tate. All you have to do is ask. This is extremely tame and I took out all aspects of my fissures (2). If y'all don't communicate and say why something is moved than I can't know what to censor. Just because you don't appreciate my stuff doesn't mean others don't. I see worse than "fissures" on here all the time.
 
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I'm tired of reading about anal fissures on the Bunker, man. You must do better.
lighten-up.gif
 
It's not political. It just deals with this dude's rectum. I don't think his rectum is a real popular subject at AuburnSports.com.

Do most of the reports you receive get sent from the same 3 or 4 members? Are those that report even regular posters?
 
It's not political. It just deals with this dude's rectum. I don't think his rectum is a real popular subject at AuburnSports.com.
It doesn't anymore. Again, it's been changed. It had two small references to it. Every Time you move my posts, I simply ask you what needs to be changed. Im perfectly fine with changing content. If you read my post, you'd see it was extremely mild. Kind of Sandlot-esque.
 
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It doesn't anymore. Again, it's been changed. It had two small references to it. Every Time you move my posts, I simply ask you what needs to be changed. I perfectly fine with changing content. If you read my post, you'd see it was extremely mild. Kind of Sandlot-esque.
I'm not your editor, cowboy!

You know the line and you enjoy crossing it. That's your thing. I'm not mad about it because you're just being "funny," but I'll nonetheless move it with a quickness.

I really wish you'd try a little less hard. I laugh at some of your stuff, as I'm sure several people do, but you always have to add something gross that pisses people off. Then I have to play babysitter and move your stuff and listen to you gripe about me moving stuff.
 
I'm not your editor, cowboy!

You know the line and you enjoy crossing it. That's your thing. I'm not mad about it, but I'll move it with a quickness.
I've always wanted to be a cowboy but regardless, I felt it was a good story. I think you've moved four posts of mine in the more than a decade I've been here, but I guess I'm the biggest problem here. Play Free Bird!!! I'm out.
 
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