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Early to mid 80s, Barton Street Hamilton near STELCO and DOFASCO steel mills, bro just took 5 rnds of .38 to the back while on his bike, 2 of which he carried until he road off into the sunset 2 years ago...if not for his thick leather jacket and "ROCKER" vest he would've been buried that week.

This tune was the ambient noise in the club house while discussions were underway in another windowless sound absorbing room that was regularly "swept" for hidden electronic surveillance devices.

Just a point of interest, in the main get-together room was a 60gallon fish aquarium with 2 fucking beastly pirhanas, big fish with chainsaw teeth...whenever we cranked this tune the vibes would set the fish into a frenzy pattern and every moment of theirs was in perfect sync, and when some bait fish (live food) were thrown into the tank...fucking wow, what a show. Another point of interest, given the large luminous spotlight we were constantly under we would experience some inconvenient intrusion by "special forces RCMP org. crime biker division", what made these cocksuckers special was that a half dozen "SF officers" were granted "WRIT OF ASSISTANCE" meaning that they did not require a court certified "search warrant" and these assholes were Frenchies out of Montreal, 2 of whom were actual components to the "French Connection" (Gene Hackman movie) New York/Montreal mafia takedown, but the 1st time these useless cops intruded (they tried their "boy oh boy" Hazbro battering ram on the plate steel door and looked like out of shape morons, they couldn't even make a dent, but we through the bolts and let them in) they found nothing incriminating but tried to get us on the illegal importation and possession of exotic/invasive species to which didn't even hit the courts.

They were a sloppy bunch, the fucking dough head RCs were always being fucked over and around by us, anyways that's another post for another day. I've got some real good stories of those days.

Anyways, WOLF by NASH THE SLASH, a Toronto band back in the days of "MAX WEBSTER" and "DAVID WILCOX" (another story for another day)

https://inv.nadeko.net/watch?v=C_8QOdd2jQc

HA! About a year ago I was pushing a shopping cart through ACE hardware. I put too much weight on it and it shot out from under me like someone pinched a watermelon seed.

I stumbled 3 or 4 steps trying to get my feet under me and went headfirst into a huge display! It hurt a little and I didnt jump right up. The embarrassment was much more painful.

A couple employees and a couple customers ran up to see if I was okay. The employee asked me a couple times if he should call an ambulance. I assured him that I was fine and got to my feet.

Somehow they got my name and phone number. Debit card? THE NEXT DAY THEIR ATTORNEY CALLED ME WANTING TO DISCUSS MY SLIP AND FALL! I told them that I had no intention to sue anybody and to let it go.

They called me again about a week later and then dropped the issue.

24hrs have gone by and without a hitch, the perfect disappearance of a micro-portion, irrefutablly, of the most valuable thing in life....TIME....be wise with it, don't be the recklessly frivolous faggot goof who incinerates valuable time by posting visions of deluded thoughts and poor advice on internet sites and forums. Do something constructive with your life.

While being constructive with my time I noticed a post from FRATERNAL VOAT OP, the ILLUSTRIOUS "CONSPIROLOGIST" and I must state that the "copy and paste" format along with the intricate, multidimensional detailing, signifies an IQ level achievable to Sub Sahara Africans while in an LSD induced state of mind.

///2 Missouri officers accused of stealing nude photos from dozens of women's phones at traffic stops///

Well guess what, I've got nudes of a few wives formerly married to cops, I will state this, regardless of the split personality and inherent feminista leanings that many dumb clueless slut ditch pig females have today, these dames have done me no wrong so why would I want to do them harm...this internet exhibitionism era is a litmus test for humanity to see just how many chowder head exhibitionists are so blind to consequences that they globally expose themselves.

FUCKING DUMB, THE ONLY THING DUMBER THAN A DICK PIC IS A PIC OF DICK WITH NO DICK.

There's no shame today and that's not good,
Did the absence of shame cause this mass stupidity, or did mass stupidity cause the absence of shame?

This is not SUPERIOR IQ

Back in the early mid-late 20th century it was a yearly tradition for girls who've reached the age of 16 to impress upon men the endearing and submissive qualities expected of them as well as the physical capabilities comparative to household duties and, most importantly, nightly carnal obligations.

Before a girl of proper age could date and court pre-adult men of brutish strength, deft in demeanor and of superior intellectual quality with a healthy pessimistic personality, they had to compete with each other with the intent of proving that they were of worthy status.

I'll never forget the night of the big clash when buddy and I had a dozen dames competing for our flimsy affection. After being deluged with phone numbers, chicken kiev recipes and week old g-strings, the one minute prep ring was given and the girls lined up for the take-off. I'll never forget that night, buddy who was in charge of the starter pistol accidentally had his mother's 38 S&W Snubby and when he discharged it the "plus p" rnd went right into the forehead of the town clerk who was there to hand out marriage certificates to the successful recipients...any broad who finished the derby without requiring medical assistance from either the local alcoholic doctor or the veterinarian was marriage material.

Then one day Joan Biez and Hellen Reddy showed up and that was the end of tradition as we knew it.

I'm sure all you guys can relate.

NOTE...IF NOT PLEASE DISREGARD THIS POST AND CONTINUE ON. THERE'S PLENTY ROOM HERE FOR RIDICULE, DEFAMATION OF CHARACTER AND DEROGATORY ACCURACY.

As well as shitposting

https://jamaica-star.com/article/news/20241111/%E2%80%98we-have-lost-future-scientist%E2%80%99-william-knibb-high-student-gets-emotional-send

Fucking future scientists and engineers are taking a hit.

...when the skies of November (10th) turn gloomy.

https://inv.nadeko.net/watch?v=FuzTkGyxkYI

I'll never forget that night. I was in Wawa moose hunting when that storm hit. The Trans Canada hwy had trees down across it from the wind and there was a wet snow with it.

500ft deep watery grave..."DAVEY JONES" opened his locker and took them in.

During the hockey off-season, June/July/August, I and other players maintained and vastly improved our skating abilities and strength through Figure Skating.

Stop starts and power turning into reverse mode with loosely tied skates made monsters of us and when season fired back up it's like we never left the ice, we were fresh on our feet and legs with oversized football thighs.

I hated the twirls because of my weight and size and wasn't all that classy at it but when it came time to hurling myself at the "Herculite" glass in the end zone, for whatever the situation demanded, I always landed in the position that I had to skate in, and sometimes often a 2minute charging penalty.

Figure skating is actually something I enjoy watching and I did like it for the shape it kept me in.

And our instructor was no faggot, he was a vicious skater with style and strength in his movements.

In hockey, a guy barreling after a puck at 25MPH into the end zone has one objective, get the puck and fuck the boards, without physical confidence in the ability to crank hard to left or right behind the net with the puck or to push the puck into the direction of a teammate and then hitting the boards, without that confidence one cannot be good at the game of hockey.

Hockey players were no slouches...anyone who knew Bob Probert knew that he was tough as rail spikes and feared nothing, he was a great guy with good character but played a hard game, on or off the ice. Probert backed down from nobody, except for the true friends that stood between him and the "situation at hand". A teammate of mine was like a brother to him and I shook my head at so many of the episodes...a very serious episode that I may one day post about.

Figure skating is not for fags.

https://inv.nadeko.net/watch?v=3JuB61n3X8s&listen=false

I don't want to see any of you faggots bitching about whatever because your words are immaterial to me, your concerns are better dealt with by a voodoo priest who's on a prison day pass with a life sentence for chicken theft and fraudulent interpretation of entrails.
I THINK SOME OF YOU FAGGOTS SHOULD HAVE YOUR ENTRAILS READ, YOU'RE HALF LITERATE ANYWAYS AND LITERALLY HALF ILLITERATE TOO.

But we're a fraternity here. We look out for each other and respect the eclectic blend of perspectives so common in "anon" subs no matter how retarded and pointless they are. Regardless of the inferiority complex associated with illiteracy, dysfunctional motor skills and poor oral health, we're all one solid unit.

AT LEAST HERE NOBODY HAS TO PUT UP WITH AN ASSHOLE OF PRETENTIOUS, CONDESCENDING CHARACTER...PERSONALLY, THE HUMBLE DEFERENCE EMITTED IN MY SOCIAL INTERACTIONS, PARTICULARLY WITH YOU FAGGOTS, SHOWS JUST HOW SOLID FRIENDS CAN BE.

The "Wizard" Uriah Heep...only a Renaissance faggot wouldn't like it.

I came across this comment that a Vietnam Vet submitted to the comment section of the Uriah Heep tune, The Spell, excellent tune by the way...I've done a lot of crazy things in my life while in a different frame of mind, I even know a guy who's been flying helicopter since 1976, he owns 2 today, who would drop "purple microdot" before flying and even a few times in fight. He's pushing 70years today and lives in Penticton BC and owns 2 choppers, I know for a fact that one is jet propelled, he flew 1,800 miles to here in Ontario with it, I think he said that his average speed was 75 or 85 knots and he does his own maintenance and repairs and he's still dropping acid...AND HE DOESN'T AGE.

Anyways I came across this and it's a comment from, what I presume is a paratrooper...there's no fucking way that I'd jump out of an airplane stoned on anything or even "one bourbon, one scotch and one beer"

///Did this album on acid in 1972 as a member of the 82nd Airborne. Uriah Heep was magical to me and my fellow draftees, but on LSD together...? Top floor of the mind. Aptly titled album and powerful song on it.///

...and they had no idea of how it happened...just me, Bubba and eventually the brothers. Secrets are sacred, not everybody understands that. Keepers of secrets are a unique few, their character is defined by that disciplined trait alone, the only ones that could be trusted when not in sight.

Continued...
Bubba stabilizes himself after the clutch bump and slams the door closed, just as I was about to say "don't slam the door", fucking doors were different back then, heavy, hollow and loud.
We're in our blue cleaning coveralls and on schedule, same time as always for the cleaning crew. Traffic is lite, nobody around and we're going in to clean..."CLEAN THE PLACE OUT".

I pull in to the facility and Bubba slides the fence gate closed and as per protocol locks it. The entire complex is dark, not a lamp or service light anywhere, only the single street light outside the gate so as to illuminate the large "NO PARKING TOW AWAY SIGN". I'm looking into the rear view mirror and thinking "fuck that's a bright light" and I'm watching the stout, barreled silhouette of Bubba walk towards the truck and my eyes are going everywhere taking note of outside activities.
Bubba jumps in and slams the fucking door, I forgot to warn him, anyways he's getting into the mode now and deviously murmurs, "piece of cake".

First off the cleaning. I park the truck right along the north side of the dispenser compound just east of the cage door entrance, the office building is about 100ft north of the compound. Given that the box of my truck is plugged with a large tank there was no room for the rotary polisher to which I joked to Bubba that it's a relief not have to handle that "heavy bitch of a polisher".

We get inside the office and go at it, I go to the "sundries" office adjoining the main office but with a storage area in between where cases of petroleum and glycol products were placed upon order and waiting for pickup. I hit the utility light switch that lights up the walkway to the office that I had to clean. FUCKING WOW...the entire room, I think 5,000sqft, was loaded with pallets of SAE30, 10W30 and 10W40. I'm fucking looking and thinking "how can I make this work", then I snap out of it and go with the "one thing at a time" frame of mind.

We wiz through the cleaning in no time and the place looks good. Bubba looks at me, and I remember saying to him, "whatever the fuck you do don't light up a smoke", he fires back "no smokes are permitted in dispenser area, it's against the law"...my jaw is hanging at his words and I'm blank, he's gawking at me with a serious look, I quip "FUCKING AGAINST THE LAW, WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK WE'RE DOING HERE, AND WHEN THE FUCK DID YOU START GIVING A FUCK FOR THE LAW?" I had him...but I was just fucking around with him.

We get inside the dispenser. I tell Bubba to use my flashlight with near dead "RAYOVAC D CELL" batteries, he's baffled, I tell him that we don't need a bright light in our hands while inside a restricted area. We
need the pump unit number that coincides with the power breaker inside the office, it was either 1,2 3. It was number 1. Bubba heads in and hits the breaker, the pump is on, but the squeeze handle is locked.

Bubba gets back from hitting the breaker and can't wait to start filling the tank. He has no idea though as to how it's going to be done. I had a 15ft 1"1/2 PVC hose coiled in back of the truck between the tank and cab and it was fitted with a rubber extension that I would close onto the end of the dispenser nozzle tightened with a pipe clamp. We cannot spill a drop. But the nozzle is still locked. Not a problem.

I look at the "dial indicator", the big round clock-like counter that meters the amount of fuel pumped. Then there's a smaller "odometer type" of counter that is zeroed after use.
The counter is not zeroed, I scribe the reading into the gravel/sand ground and tell Bubba that this is the number we return it to. He still hasn't figured out how this is going to work.

I tell him that there's a good 3" of play in the lever lock cable. I instruct him to hold the hose into the tank.
Bubba's in back of the truck holding the hose and I squeeze the fucking 3 inches right out of the slack and fuel roars out, Bubba's all teeth and I'm thinking holy fuck that fuel is moving fast, 800gallons in a couple minutes and my fucking truck is squatting but I did have extra leafs in the suspension, I used it all.

We quickly dismantle the PVC line, I return the counter back to the original number and sift back the sand and gravel to wipe out the scribble scratch.

It's important to note that back then everything was on a mechanical hard wire system and no surveillance cameras anywhere, unlike today's computerized and digital retention system. Manual readjustments were easy and undetectable. We're in the truck and I'm in 1st gear, I ask Bubba if he's got the flashlight, he does and we're moving.

I round the corner to the access road and the gate...I say to Bubba, "this is where we find out how smoothly this will go" he says nothing, we're at the gate ,he jumps out and slams the fucking door, I forgot to tell him...anyways I exit, Bubba slides the gate closed, locks it and we're getting out. I'm scanning the area and it's like nothing happened.

Now to offload the tank with the HIAB and get the truck back to the tire shop.

Next day it's business as usual and nobody knows anything, it's just another day...EXCEPT...Bubba and I are committed to helping his parents with their cleaning contract and have to faithfully be on site at the EXON ESSO BULK PLANT later that evening. Just like the night before.

Fuck me guys I need one more post to wrap this up, I didn't think it was going to go this long but as I go on I'm realizing now how much detail we put into this heist.
I will state this, the next two runs in this heist are where the situation gets tense. I need another day.
Thnx FAGGOTS.