maybe we should sto p admitting to these things. FBI will be on us soon. 
Nearly burned my house down.......
- Thread starter TimurCivan
- Start date
Beat Takeshi
Two-Hip Shakur
Heh, I went to Brooklyn Tech.
I used to make my own fire works and sell them. We had a house up in Hunter Mountain and I would go tothe gun shop and buy a can of black powder, yes, they sold it to a kid. Then I would take those black film canisters for 35mm film and pack the sh!t out of them with the gun powder. You have to really make sure its packed as tight as possible or else it becomes just a big flash. So after packing it, I melted the ends of M80s and poured it into the open end of the canister to the top. Let harden. Then take the fuses and loop them together. Drill a small hole in the back of the canister and stick the fuse in. Take electrical tape and wrap the crap out of it to the size of a baseball. Light the fuse and run like a mo fo because the sh!t will take your life. I used to sell them for $10 each and had a long line of people wanting them because there was nothing else like it. Cracks sidewalks with ease. Lifted a Mr Softee trucks body off the frame. Yes I still have my arms and legs.
PS dont try this at home... it was mad stupid.
I used to make my own fire works and sell them. We had a house up in Hunter Mountain and I would go tothe gun shop and buy a can of black powder, yes, they sold it to a kid. Then I would take those black film canisters for 35mm film and pack the sh!t out of them with the gun powder. You have to really make sure its packed as tight as possible or else it becomes just a big flash. So after packing it, I melted the ends of M80s and poured it into the open end of the canister to the top. Let harden. Then take the fuses and loop them together. Drill a small hole in the back of the canister and stick the fuse in. Take electrical tape and wrap the crap out of it to the size of a baseball. Light the fuse and run like a mo fo because the sh!t will take your life. I used to sell them for $10 each and had a long line of people wanting them because there was nothing else like it. Cracks sidewalks with ease. Lifted a Mr Softee trucks body off the frame. Yes I still have my arms and legs.
PS dont try this at home... it was mad stupid.
If this thread continues on its course (semi hijacked) It could get real interesting with the how I nearly destroyed my whole block as a child angles. Perhaps we'll get to see the true demons residing in the children who ended up as upcomming filmakers, the strange ones who never fit the 9-5 accounting mold..LOL
Aram Bauman said:
well dude you "sorta" still have your arms and legs.....
you should tell people your metal hips are from a "homemade fire works accident"
well i will say this..... if you go to Dyker park golf course... theres a few dead trees that are Mysteriaously "blown in half".......
im just saying they exist.
im just saying they exist.
When I worked for B&B group, we had a guy come in, wanting a reloading press, powder, casings and bullets for his Ruger Redhawk (a monstrous, massively overbuilt steel .44 Long Colt revolver - that is to say, an 8-pound lump hammer that can incidentally be used to shoot boars, bears, and low-flying aircraft).
He does *not* buy a powder measure, a scale, or a reloading manual, so we figure "he must already have what he needs and know what he's doing..."
So a few days later he comes in with powder burns on his face and a pillowcase full of junk that rattles when shaken. Seems this lethal doofus starts by fitting the cases with small rifle primers, stuffed them up to the brim with Blue Dot (a fast-burning rifle powder, most extremely unsuitable for pistol loads), then used the press to jam the slugs down just barrrrrely enough to stay necked in. Then he goes to the range, and the third round blows the cylinder in half, torques the frame out, and blows the topstrap up and backwards, Wiley Coyote-style (the fact that it wasn't until the third round is a testament to the strength of the pistol, and the fact that it didn't blow his idjit head off is testament to that old bit about the Gods watching over fools and reloading ignoramuses).
And he expects us to give him his money back and buy him a new pistol.
Scariest place I ever worked.
He does *not* buy a powder measure, a scale, or a reloading manual, so we figure "he must already have what he needs and know what he's doing..."
So a few days later he comes in with powder burns on his face and a pillowcase full of junk that rattles when shaken. Seems this lethal doofus starts by fitting the cases with small rifle primers, stuffed them up to the brim with Blue Dot (a fast-burning rifle powder, most extremely unsuitable for pistol loads), then used the press to jam the slugs down just barrrrrely enough to stay necked in. Then he goes to the range, and the third round blows the cylinder in half, torques the frame out, and blows the topstrap up and backwards, Wiley Coyote-style (the fact that it wasn't until the third round is a testament to the strength of the pistol, and the fact that it didn't blow his idjit head off is testament to that old bit about the Gods watching over fools and reloading ignoramuses).
And he expects us to give him his money back and buy him a new pistol.
Scariest place I ever worked.
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