The 'What the fuck!' thread

[Crimson Ghost]

The Boredom Games

[glatt]

Not really WTF, but more WTF would YOU do?

Russian hail storm appears out of nowhere a couple days ago. Hailstones were the size of volkswagens.

[Undertoad]

Wow. Like having hundreds of golf balls hit right at you.

Wouldn't the best bet be to go underwater, hold your breath as long as possible, come up for air for two seconds then back underwater?

[glatt]

Reminds me of the scene from Galipoli where the soldiers were caught swimming in the water and kept diving to try to avoid bullets.

[xoxoxoBruce]

Dive! Dive! (klaxton) Dive!

[Gravdigr]

When I was very small, six, or so, my aunt and I were walking back from the Minit Mart that was just up the road from late Grandmadigr's house, wasn't more than ¼-mile. About fifty steps into the return trip, the heavens let loose all their extra hail.

Auntiedigr scooped me up and carried me while bending over me protecting me from the worst of the beating. The hailstones left me scratched up and bruised where my legs were swinging around while she ran. Her back and head and legs looked like she'd been through a gauntlet. Just beat the hell out of her.

[orthodoc]

The worst of hailstones I experienced was leaning out the screen door of our rental house in west Ottawa, right on the river, as the boomer made its way down the water and threw baseball-sized ice at us. An adult would yank us back just as a big stone came in. None of us was beaten or bruised, but huge neighborhood trees came down and cars were damaged, and my sibs and I learned to respect those summer storms. They were not to be trifled with.

[glatt]

I used to enjoy a summer thunderstorm until we bought this house. As a homeowner, I get too anxious during storms now because they might cost me money and cause other problems. All because we lost a mature tree during a storm our first summer here. Landed on the neighbor's garage. What a pain in the ass. It's too bad. Storms used to be fun.

[xoxoxoBruce]

Storms still are fun, and they don't much care if you're paranoid or not.

[footfootfoot]

I so hear you, glatt. When I was in the middle of the addition, 7 years ago, I had the roof off the kitchen and the second floor was down and tarped but no walls or rafters yet. Torrential downpour, thunder, lightning, power failure, and the tarps just ended up funneling all the water from the second floor into the kitchen. Shop vac quantities of water. In the dark with two nervous kids and an untreated PTSD MIL.

Still cannot enjoy even minor rains w/o the feeling that water is getting in and soaking the cellulose insulation...

[xoxoxoBruce]

But was that the storm's fault? No. I ripped half my roof off down to the boards. Before I could tarp it a storm blew in with wind too high handle the tarp. Water coming out of every ceiling fixture with of course beds and furniture below every one. Can't blame the storm, wasn't nature's fault, but my own mistake.

[footfootfoot]

Not the storm's fault at all, I've torn off enough roofs to know that unlike a casino the house always loses. Still, despite my precautions the house got drenched, it dried out life went on, but I think the ownership and the knowledge that I'm gonna be the one who deals with it makes me less relaxed during the summer storms.

[Gravdigr]

What? You never seen a concrete cock swan before?

[xoxoxoBruce]

Does that one belong to the queen too.

[footfootfoot]

Three nights ago I'm watching a movie on the couch with the giant shark/dolphin cuddly (5 feet of toothy softness) and out of who the fuck knows where a bat starts swooping all over the place. It looks as big as a goddamned Robin. (Batman and Robin?) anyway after running around swinging the shark/dolphin at it I chased it into the kitchen and left the door open so it could use its presumably excellent sonar to find the giant fucking point of egress.

Next night, watching another movie and enjoying a cocktail with the Shark/dolphin and lo and be-fucking-hold there's the GD bat again. Now, I'm more than annoyed and we take the fight into the kitchen and I whap the fucker with a broom and sweep him outside.

Last night, again, chillin with the Shark/dolphin and like a bad penny the fucker is back. This time I give him what for with the broom and then a little bit extra, to let him know I'm not amused. I swept him out again and this morning I didn't see his corpse, and I think I figured out how he was getting in. The previous administration could not figure out how to put the attic octagonal window screen in (it's an irregular octagon so it takes a full tablespoon of smarts to figure out) so she'd left it out and instead loosely stapled some remay over the window opening. (Why not close the window?)

I put the screen in the window and tonight we'll see if it comes back, which one of us isn't in it for the hunting...