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 Now online (1)belb ...and 345 guests Last 5 registered Oplandisks nothingstar N_loop yipe foxtrotromeo Browse members... |
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Taking a "wrong turn" can lead to eventful things, or tragedy. A wrong turn can be literally taking the wrong street while heading somewhere else or it can be metaphoric, a choice made in life, but both have outcomes. Was your wrong turn a serendipitous one? Or was it a brutal awakening to the harsh realities of life? What did you learn, if anything? Tell us your story... |
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i'd rather not |
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i could paint a picture of the image you just gave me. |
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right turns skimming past the wrong place, wrong turns jutting over dangerous edges with spectaculor views, and the vehicle instead of whittling away over time, becoming something harder and faster. |
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let it out, man... |
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it's nothing interesting. we've all said and done things while drunk that we regret or cringe at later on. |
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yeah i gave up drinking for all those reasons. normally i go around telling girls ive never met theyre beautiful. |
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it's really worse when you do it when you've known them for quite some time and their boyfriend, whom you've known for even longer, is sitting next to them, gawking at you in your stocious state |
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i was raised with the motto 'who cares about the boyfriend' so its better for everyone that i stay sober |
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yes the temptation has often been there. |
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oh yeah i love treads like this where you ask someone to tell a story not telling your own. |
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never live in a threesome |
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i once took the firrst exit off the a66 into stockton when i should have taken the second. so i had to crross the town to get to wherre i needed to be. it was late on though, so i only lost about 4 minutes. |
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I have had more wrong turns than anybody I can think of. Its why I don't have a degree, or even a job that pays me more than $14/hour. But if I hadn't have made all those wrong choices, I never would have met Christina, and she makes me happier than anything. So they weren't the wrong choices. Just ones that seemed bad at the time. |
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I was suspicious that my "fuck money, I'm going to do what I really enjoy!" attitude when selecting what I was going to study was a wrong turn but now I don't really care because I enjoy it so much and I'm actually doing quite well. |
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Fair enough sadist... In my late teens I developed a penchant for stealing cars. Rather, having friends who stole cars letting me tagalong, as I never went through the process of stripping the ignition or using homemade master keys. But I did help in other ways and reaped the benefits such as a plethora of CD decks to choose from—one of which I put in my parents car and another sold to my brother—miscellaneous CDs of music I had never heard before—where I first heard Sonic Youth’s Goo and Nirvana’s In Utero (both on tape)—not to mention money, expensive jackets, speakers, amps, and a nice SLR camera. Well, with each successful “score”, confidence rose and sights were set on “bigger” objectives. For a period of a week, before almost everyone involved finally got caught (not me, although there where a few times when the cops were literally right behind me in pursuit, but fortunately they weren’t as quick footed as I was), we had our own transportation when ever we wanted due to the very favorable lack of security features, faults and flaws early model Toyota Mini Vans had. I suppose the idea was that if we could pluck a car off the street like so much fruit from a tree when we wanted then what else is there that we can take so easily? At that point someone had let it be known, just to let it swirl around in our minds, that his neighbor, a friend to his family, was to be away for an evening allowing the pilfering of high-end audio equipment and most importantly, at least to one member of our “crew”, someone with loose affiliations to a serious gang, that a GUN would be there, ripe for the picking. The gun didn’t mean much to me at the time as I was more enthralled by the mention of Bose speakers and multiple hundred disc changers. The day had come to take what wasn’t ours again and it was assumed that from my apartment I was sharing with my brother and about five other people (I was kicked out of High School and moved out of my parents home), a possibly incriminating phone call would be placed to the home of |
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The day had come to take what wasn’t ours again and it was assumed that from my apartment I was sharing with my brother and about five other people (I was kicked out of High School and moved out of my parents home), a possibly incriminating phone call would be placed to the home of the “family friend” to figure with certainty whether the house was empty. Against my better judgment the call was made, no one answered, we headed out. As boasted, a complete Bose surround sound system including a subwoofer, two of them actually, where present. And to greater surprise, if I remember correctly, four 2 hundred disc changers shelved one atop another. After a bit of gawking, the stuff was being disconnected and loaded away. Everything Bose went first then we started on the disc changers. With equal surprise and satisfaction that my senses experienced at all the electronics so did “he”, having come for and found what he was looking for, walking downstairs with a revolver cradled in his hands. That was the first time I had seen a gun within such proximity of myself. It emanated a threatening vibe. It commanded respect through fear. I thought that this guy has the power now to kill me with a firm grip, good aim, and the pull of the trigger. Thank God he was with us. He came closer and I could see the gun more clearly. He thought we should go now. I wouldn’t be the first to disagree at that moment. We left with only two disc changers. I remember remembering the vision of the gun in “his” hands, the idea that it looked so real that it looked fake. It’s black, long barrel and wood grain handle. But the physical weight it carried gave it away as being anything but a toy. The intentions its new owner had for that weapon were not good. I could see machinations run through his mind. What have I done? What have I contributed to? To someone’s death? Shit, shit, shit. Oh fuck, and the phone call from my apartment, that can be traced later. Can’t it? What have I gotten myself into? Luckily, later that night the friend with the gun |
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That's a good outlook. I was thinking along the same lines yesterday. A lot of things that happened (admittedly many beyond my control) that seemed bad at the time actually directly contributed to my current happiness, so I can't complain/regret them. |
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Luckily, later that night the friend with the gun was coming over to my apartment, driving in another stolen car. Not but a street over from where I lived he was pulled over. He ran of course, so did everyone else in the car as I could see them from my window fleeing the police. I called out from my third story apartment offering sanctuary. The guy with the gun looked up while running and fell down. The gun went sliding out of his jacket, grating across the road. He jumped the fence to the apartment complex and I greeted him at my door soon after. He left the gun. And I can only assume, I can only hope that the cops found it. I fucked around a little after that, but eventually got on the right path after taking a long wrong turn of breaking the law. |
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oh, elusive is gonna absolutely love you |
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Thats a pretty crazy story. |
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Yeah, I got into stupid situations like that all the time when I was a child. |
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literally taking the wrong street, yes. went driving through gloucester last nite, i have no idea how to get around the town by car. went the wrong way up a one-way road, while being followed by a copper. cool. |
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rreally, i'd think a wrrong turrn is something perrmanent, not doing bad things when you werre young. a rreal wrrong turrn of mine was giving up on education, maybe the rreal wrrong turrn is still ahead, not getting back into some kind of education beforre it rreally is impossible. |
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i will probably regret going to university at some point. well, maybe. if i end up without a job after spending 4 years in here. |
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i'm surre you'll end up with some job, prrobably a managerr somewherre pointless. on morre money than me. |
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orr a managerr at mcdonalds on £6 an hourr less than me |
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"In my late teens I developed a penchant for stealing cars".. |
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redrum, what is that comment about me supposed to mean? |
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I intend to make a wrong turn around 4-th of January. I'll keep you updated |
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I was riding in London and made a wrong turn. I did a U-turn (in my defence, there wasn't a "no U-turn" sign) and took a turning in the direction I wanted to go. Turned out it was the wrong way down a one way. I ended up turning off and having to take a more circuitous route than if I had just carried on and turned around properly. On the plus side, I saw the legendary Clitheroe Crescent as a result of this detour. I suppose this tale illustrates taxidermist's point to some degree. |
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Dropping out of school, evading possible relationships, having one too many bad trips, getting into idm. |
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it's funny when people say 'giving up education' because you simply cannot know whether it would've made the slightest difference had you decided to 'stay in school'. it's just the safe bet to say 'it probably would have'. Look at educated people around you and the 'great' jobs they have. I sympathize with most of them. I work in a bookstore now and many colleagues who have studied at various universities, are intelligent and perhaps capable of a lot more, work in a bookstore where they don't make as much money as they possibly could. Choice or 'fate'? You'll never know what your wrong turn was or will be. p.s: this post is a very bad idea but i can't help it. |
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you killed the thread i liked to read :( but i have to admit that youre very correct exceptions possible |
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