Sheeeeit. If I’d Have Been Caught For Even 1/20th Of The Shit I Pulled When I Was Young I Would STILL Be In Jail

Posted on by

Nowadays they just shoot ya for some of the crap I pulled and I am not kidding in the least.

17 thoughts on “Sheeeeit. If I’d Have Been Caught For Even 1/20th Of The Shit I Pulled When I Was Young I Would STILL Be In Jail”

  1. I remember turning 18….it was then I realized that I could go to county jail.
    Straighted my ass right out.

    • Bill, when my three kids each turned 18 I said to them, “careful, now you CAN be taken to jail”.

      So far it worked on my two daughters, my son that’s another story, he got off light.

      Oh well, I told my Dad once long ago. Sorry, I was hoping to be your only son who did not go to jail. I got off because it was bullshit, but he did not think my statement was to funny.

  2. am with you nd ghost on that.

    I don’t do socialist media, but if I did,
    first one i’d look for would be that ghost guy
    👍🏻

    Juan

  3. Straight up with you on that, Phil.
    Glad there weren’t cell phones & cameras everywhere.
    Be fucked, I would.

  4. I thought snowmobiles, dirt bikes and quads were made so you could run from the cops.

    At least they kept flashing that gumball machine at me all the time…

  5. In a small town like where I grew up in, the biggest fear from the cops was if they caught you the first thing out of their mouth was, “I’m fixin’ to call your daddy and tell him you’re out here again acting like a fool.”
    NOT GOOD.

    • You didn’t dare lie about where you had been, the moms in town knew who you are, and had a communication network that made the NSA look primitive.

  6. I only outran the cops 3 times. It was great, exciting, scary as hell. I knew the limits of my 2 wheelers and skills. Every escape was because I could get to dirt, off road. 2 were San Diego Co. deputy sheriffs, 1 was CHP.
    NO WAIT! In ’78- ’79, we lived in Vancouver Wash. I worked at FMC Mfg. in Portland. Commuted on an ’72, XL 250 Honda.
    One day I’m blazing home on I-5 north, approaching the bridge. It’s stopped as the freeway bottle necks from 4 or 5 lanes down to 2 for the old bridge. This is less than a mile (half?) from the bridge. I’m zooming up the right shoulder, there’s an exit lane there too. I flash passed a cop car in the slow lane, he flips his lights on an wheels out after me. I’ve got a 60 ish mph head start. By the time he’s getting up to speed, the exit lane is gone and I’m on the narrow shoulder. He came to a screeching halt, I zipped home. I’m sure he was PISSED! Had to change from my usual riding gear (screaming orange water proof pants and orange helmet!) to back up stuff. I suspected he would be on the lookout for me, but he didn’t get a good look at me or the bike, I was gone inna flash.

  7. I engaged the Po-Po in pursuit several times and lost them every time. The best one occurred in East Hartford. I blew through a stop sign with a cop watching. I saw him and turned into a housing development at high sped. I twisted and turned on several streets and saw my opportunity… and open and unoccupied garage. I quickly pulled in and shut off my car. He went by and I pulled down the garage door. I watched through the window as he circled the block several times and waited a good half hour after I didn’t see him anymore before I put the door back up and left the development through a different route. I was 18

  8. Some little podunk town in North Dakota – I was headed North on Highway 52 and the cute little city fathers decided to drop the speed ABRUPTLY to 25. I was in my Corvette, doing 60-70 trying to get back to base, it was 12:30 at night. Yes, I was absolutely sober since I don’t drink.

    Stoopid redneck Sherriff John B. Pusser decides to come screaming out from behind a small building where he had been parked, just waiting for some drunk late-night schlub to go screaming through the trap. I simply pulled it down to 2nd (at about 70 MPH) and stomped it. Worked my way to about 140 MPH, looked in my rearview mirror – no sign of Sherriff Dumbass. Threw it in Neutral, let it coast back down to about 70 again and didn’t see ’em ever again. BTW, I was about 20 miles down the road at that point.

    Heh.

  9. I’ve never been arrested, but I’ve had my ass kicked by cops a couple of times. That seems to be the big difference between when I was a kid and now. When I was a teen in rural Oklahoma, if you acted up but nobody was really hurt, the cops would whip your ass and tell you never to do it again, but they wouldn’t arrest you. Plus, cops would get you for “acting up” without worrying about a particular law. So, I managed to get through my teens with a bit of blunt force trauma and a few “good talkin’ to’s” but I didn’t have a record.

    Nowadays, it seems the opposite. Cops won’t really touch you except if you resist during arrest and similar takedowns, but they’ll arrest you at the drop of a hat, and there’s a charge for everything.

  10. I’ve done it twice.
    First time was in my 79 F150 in 8 inches of snow, in two wheel drive. I passed an unmarked Sheriff’s Jeep – in a snowstorm, in a no passing zone, and 1am in the morning. At one point the speedo was straight down for several minutes. Even on dry roads the Cherokee the Sheriffs were in wouldn’t have kept up. I ended up getting pulled over by town cops four towns down, for having a tail light out. Twenty minutes later, the Sheriffs pulled in behind them as they were fixing to let me go. The only reason I didn’t go to jail was it was snowing too hard for radar to work and they couldn’t get close enough to pace me. They were really pissed when I had to get out to lock in the front hubs.
    Second was I met a Sheriff while doing 70 in a 55 on my bike. When saw his tail lights, I dropped three gears. His tail lights went out when he heard that. I got caught behind a car just before the intersection with the next road, I turned the way it didn’t. Each gear was shifted at redline. As I shifted into 6th, the speedo was halfway between 150 and 160 indicated. Awful scary at that speed.

  12. Back in the early 80’s I was out with my friends doing stupid shit. I had a 67 Dodge with a big 440 magnum engine and I was smoking the tires at every light and drag racing any fool that wanted to go. At some point I saw flashing lights in the rear view but I just kept going and that was that. Still, it was a small town and I was the only idiot with a Dodge when everyone else drove Fords and Chevies. Got home around 1 or 2 and parked it behind my mom’s car.

    Next morning, my mom needed to go to the store and I was still asleep, so she just hopped in my car and took off. 10 minutes down the road a cop pulled her over. Walked up to the car ready to read the riot act to some teen and encounters a middle-aged housewife. Complete reset. He asks her if that was her car and “yes sir, officer, I’ve had this car since it was new.” He then asks if anyone else drives it and “No sir, just me”. Well, you have a nice day, ma’am.

    Boy did I get an earful when she got home.

Comments are closed.