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Offlinemellowfellow

Registered: 11/10/10
Posts: 639
Last seen: 5 years, 11 months
Re: Someone tell me [Re: ganja girl]
    #515846 - 01/19/11 08:31 PM (14 years, 10 days ago)

Mas Oyama is a martial arts master who became famous for killing bulls by punching them in the face.

Now, I have previously argued that the senseless killing of lesser species of animals in and of itself doesn't necessarily automatically qualify you a badass, but this is some seriously next-level shit.  Any time you go up against a horned, clawed, or otherwise bigger, badder, and more-naturally equipped to kick your ass killing machine and pummel it retarded in hand-to-hand combat, it's inevitable that some degree of badass credibility is going to come your way.  This is especially the case when you're a guy who can karate chop horns off of bulls and punch them in the face with your bare hands until they die from it.

Mas Oyama, the founder of the Kyokushinaki style of full-contact, kick-you-in-the-scrote karate, started his personal quest to become a one-man human abattoir while growing up in Korea in the 1930s.  Learning whatever he could from the Chinese workers on his sister's farm, Mas developed many bizarre techniques for becoming more awesome.  For instance, his first teacher told him to plant a seed, and then jump over it 100 times a day every day.  By the time the seed sprouted and grew into a relatively-large tree, Mas had some pretty unbelievably mad leaping skills.




When Japan invaded mainland China in the early stages of what we now know as World War II, Mas Oyama went back to mainland Japan (his homeland, Korea, was under Imperial control at this time) and began training to be a fighter pilot.  When he wasn't flying it into the closest approximation the Imperial Aviation School had to the danger zone, Oyama started training in martial arts with the guy who founded Shotokan Karate. Shotokan is, among other things, the style of martial art used by Ryu and Ken from Street Fighter II, so studying from the dude who invented the Hadouken is kind of one of the most awesomest things I've ever heard.  Oyama never saw combat in the Pacific War, but he did dedicate his life to studying the art of kicking ass, and by the time he was twenty he was already a fourth-degree black belt.  Bummed that me missed out on all the sweet WWII action, and more than a little pissed about American pilots blowing up his classmates, Mas Oyama spent the first few post-war years getting arrested for beating the shit out of U.S. military occupation forces in Japan.

Figuring that punching soldiers in the face without warning or provocation, while kind of hardcore, wasn't really the best way to hone his fighting prowess, Mas Oyama eventually decided on taking on more drastic measures to improve his physical conditioning.  Not long after meeting the guy who wrote the famous biography on super-mega-badass samurai Miyamoto Musashi, Mas Oyama decided to climb the same mountain where Musashi compiled The Book of Five Rings and train himself alone in the wilderness until he was such a ridiculous face-crusher that peoples' heads imploded every time he simply walked into a room.  For eighteen months he punched trees, ran through the wilderness, lived off the land in a homemade shack, meditated while kneeling under freezing-cold waterfalls, and broke rocks with his fists.  In 1947 he came down the mountain to win the Japanese National Martial Arts Championship, and then promptly went right back up the mountain for another eighteen months.



Oyama beating the shit out of a tree.


Confident that he was the awesomest dude to ever cause pain to an inanimate object with his forehead, Oyama came down the mountain and, in 1953, founded a dojo to train n00bs in how to stop sucking ass and being a bunch of pathetic wussbags.  He implemented a tough, grueling training program of full-contact martial arts, and pretty much everyone who came through his school found themselves injured at some point or another during their training.  It's kind of hard to get people to want to pay you money so that you can pummel them senseless, though, so Mas Oyama went on the road with a series of promotions across Japan to drum up support for his program.

Nowadays, martial arts school promotions involve a lot of board-kicking and Jock Jams soundtracks, but Mas Oyama's style of publicizing his art was just as borderline-psychotic as he was.  This guy would fight bulls with his bare hands.  A lot.  In fifty-two separate battles with full-sized, pissed-off steers, this guy killed three outright with one punch – a feat that earned him the completely-awesome nickname "The Godhand", by the way – and defeated 49 more by either wrestling them to the turf or chopping off their horns with a well-placed iron-plated judo chop.  WTF, dudes.



Epic.


Mas Oyama also enjoyed testing himself in Kumite, which is the Japanese word for getting jumped by a hundred dudes at once and beating them all into bloody stumps.  Over the course of three days, Oyama fought 300 sparring matches, one after the other, and defeated all comers. He was so tough that even on the third day of nearly non-stop fighting people who were blocking his punches were ending up with broken arms.  When it was all over, Oyama thought the kumite was so awesome that he made a 100-man battle the requirement for getting your fourth-degree black belt in Kyokushinaki Karate.  To this day, you need to fight a hundred full-contact matches in a row, win over 50% of them, and not be knocked down for more than five seconds at any time in the trial.  This is insanity.

Mas Oyama, a non-smoker, died of lung cancer in 1994 at the age of 70, but his legacy continues to live on.  His famous all-world karate tournaments, where masters of all styles could come together and fight each other, serve as the basis for the plot of nearly every fighting game ever, he was the main character in a couple of utterly-terrible Sonny Chiba movies called Champion of Death and Karate Bear Fighter  Today his school now boasts over 10 million enrolled members across 120 countries and is widely belived to be one of the most hardcore fighting styles capable of human comprehension.  If I saw a guy kill a bull with his fists, I'd probably want to learn his secrets as well.


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Offlinemellowfellow

Registered: 11/10/10
Posts: 639
Last seen: 5 years, 11 months
Re: Someone tell me [Re: ganja girl]
    #515853 - 01/19/11 08:40 PM (14 years, 10 days ago)

bake cookies?


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Offlinemellowfellow

Registered: 11/10/10
Posts: 639
Last seen: 5 years, 11 months
Re: Someone tell me [Re: ganja girl]
    #515883 - 01/19/11 09:18 PM (14 years, 10 days ago)






WHOOP WHOOP WHOOP WHOOP!!!


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Offlinemellowfellow

Registered: 11/10/10
Posts: 639
Last seen: 5 years, 11 months
Re: Someone tell me [Re: Slave of Cthulhu]
    #515950 - 01/19/11 11:16 PM (14 years, 10 days ago)

That story sucked.


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Offlinemellowfellow

Registered: 11/10/10
Posts: 639
Last seen: 5 years, 11 months
Re: Someone tell me [Re: Slave of Cthulhu]
    #515961 - 01/19/11 11:24 PM (14 years, 10 days ago)

Word. I'll smoke to that.


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Offlinemellowfellow

Registered: 11/10/10
Posts: 639
Last seen: 5 years, 11 months
Re: Someone tell me [Re: ganja girl]
    #516559 - 01/21/11 03:34 AM (14 years, 9 days ago)

Quote:

Early one particular morning a friend and I decided to dose up. I pop 3 tabs of those wonderful Hofmann's under my tongue and 20 minutes later I can feel it coming on pretty strong. The next thing I remember is smiling wide and saying to my friend, "Man.. I think this is going to be a good one." My dog starts barking and I look out the window to the front yard. Two men in suits were getting out of a car with some papers in their hand and were headed up my driveway. "Fucking Mormans," I think to myself. It only took a moment to realize that it was way too early in the day for Mormon's to come around knocking, and those men in those suits had a very distinct other kind of familiarity about them.

"FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK  FUCK"

I raced away from the window and over to the hiding spot to grab as much stuff as I could before running. One little box: 12 hits of acid, 200mg of 2c-e, 80mg 2c-b, 100mg 2c-i, 10mg DOC, 10mg DOM, 3g of DMT, 500mg of ketamine, 2g mushrooms, 3g of dank. A moment later I'm racing through the back yard running barefoot and hopping fences into the neighbor's backyards. A couple streets over I come into a highly vegetated ditch in the corner of some fenced area. Found a good place to stash the box.

Thoughts are racing and I'm trying to make sense of the situation. "Did I really just do that? Did that really just happen? That acid just started kicking in real strong. Did some detectives really just show up? Was that all just in my imagination?" I'd feel pretty stupid if I just had a freakout or something and just got up and ran out after seeing some shit in my head. No. It had to be real.. and I can't take the chance of running back to check.

There's a lady jogging up the street. Somethings not right about her. She looks distraught. I come out of the ditch and ask her if she's all right, if she needs any help. She recoils and starts to back away. Whatever. Fuckit. I've got more important shit to worry about. Where can I head to now? That small forrest is just down this street. Maybe I can make it..

I remember the adrenaline coursing through me as my feet slapped onto the pavement faster than I ever thought possible. There's the entrance to the forrest- coast looks clear- awesome. Pause for a minute and breathe. Now what? Don't think. Just move. Oh shit, where the fuck am I? How the fuck did I just get here? I don't remember even taking those last twenty paces. Aw great, the confusion is kicking in. Now hold on- just keep yourself together! What are your options? You've got your wallet.. 30 bucks and some friend's numbers.. but how to get to a phone? Waffle House would be the closest store around, but there are cop cars roaming the neighborhood and they've got your description. Maybe I could just jump out of the woods and wave down a passing car.. tell them I'm in a real bad situation and that I need a ride. Wait.. I can hear someone raking their yard.. maybe I can run over and calmly explain to them that I'm having a bad trip and ask to use their phone.. when the coast looks clear.. No goddamnit! These are crazy acid ideas! Get ahold of yourself and think straight! Don't do anything stupid! Oh fuck, what am I going to do? Okay okay.. just chill out and find a good place to hide until you can ride this trip out and shit starts making sense again. What was that? It sounded like a radio. That was a radio. They're searching the outskirts of the forrest for me. Be still. Be quiet. Then it gets weird..

My arm starts seizing up. I have no idea what the fuck is going on but all of my muscles are tensing and seizing up and my hand is contracting into a claw shape. I lay down on a tree branch and try to make sense of what's going on. Jesus what the fuck is happening!? This feels horrible.. yet.. familiar. Oh god I'm going to die.. this isn't worth it, I need medical attention.. I'm just going to crawl out of here and lay in a ditch until someone finds me and takes me to the hospital. Wait.. no.. if they catch you in this condition they'll do horrible things to you.. strap you down and pump you full of anti-psychotics.. and then you'll go to jail for a very long time. No. I'll never forgive myself if I end up sitting in a cell and there was anything I could have done to avoid it. Just ride it out. I started focusing and realized that I had some control over how the seizing spread throughout my body. I started pushing it back toward where it started and eventually it died out entirely.

No idea how long I've been in these woods now. Haven't spied a squad car roll by in a while. Can I really just sit in here forever? Just sneaking to the outskirts of the trees every once in a while to spy what's going on out there? Wait, there's someone! Some gothic kid checking his mailbox over across the field.. maybe 60 yards.. That was it, in a split second I was running toward him and clearing ground even faster than before. By the time I get to him my heart is pounding and I'm panting desperately. "So listen man, I'm having a bad trip and I really need a ride. Could you help me out?" He steps back and thinks for a moment before responding, "Um.. just a minute, let me go ask my dad." and heading inside. A couple minutes pass by and I'm standing at the top of this driveway trying to to hide from the view of any passing cars. What the fuck am I doing? The kid's dad is probably on the phone with the police right now.

The dad walks outside- a thin, bespectacled man, of average height with a long pony tail reaching down to his lower back. An old head. He lights up a cigarette and slowly begins to talk "You know.. back in my day.. we always had one sober person in the group." Yeah man! I know all about trip-sitters, but you don't understand! I just need to get the fuck out of this general area- like now! He hits his cigarette and stares off in the distance. What the fuck are you doing old man?! He's stalling! He's waiting for the cops to arrive! "So can you give me a ride or not?" - "Yeah I think I can do that."


The three of us get in the van and begin heading over to a safe spot. We talked about LSD back in the day and he gave a spiel about the quality of acid these days and its strychnine content. I tried to reason with him and explain that there's no strychnine in LSD and there never was. He's just not hearing it and I'm having a real hard time communicating. I'm still in the midst of a very solid trip- things are stretching, morphing- bright colors everywhere. We arrive and I hand him a $10 dollar bill for gas and trouble which he reluctantly accepts.

Basically, the LEO new what I was up to but didn't have enough evidence. They trumped up some bullshit story about catching some black guy with a stolen Wii, a stolen gun, and some other shit. Apparently he said that he got the stuff from me. They show up at my place and demand to be let in, but with the best of luck, they search the wrong areas and don't find my mushroom grow or the two quart jars full of mimosa and naphtha. At this point they didn't know that I had ran and assumed that I just wasn't home at the time.

While they're searching they hear a report on the radio of a character running through some folks' backyards. Someone called the cops on me running from the cops. They immediately know it was me and proceed to get all pissy. They literally stand out in the yard and yell out to the street "NEIGHBORS, LOCK YOUR DOORS LOCK YOUR WINDOWS!! (insert fullname), IS A THIEF!" Generally just huffed and puffed a bit and then said for them to be called if anyone sees me show back up. I did ended up sneaking back that night and that's when I was informed of this part of the story and that I needed to gtfo real quick.

A few days later I end up on the phone with of one the detectives and the conversation doesn't go very well. To make an already very long story slightly shorter.. he strongly implies that I need to come down to talk and that there's not currently a warrant for my arrest. I show up. He brings out a sheet of paper with several people's faces and asks me if I knew some name. Nope. That's it. That's it? I ask if I'm free to go, if I'm on any lists or anything. Nope, that's it.

So yeah, that's the story of my first 1-up over the po-po. They came and failed, and I was able to keep my head together in the midst of one helluva worst case scenario. It's because of that experience that I feel confident in my abilities to handle tripping and remain logical and lucid. Oh yeah! And I successfully recovered the stash box from it's hiding place with all of it's precious contents and all!! Anyway, I chilled out after that ordeal and didn't really get into anything for a long while. Done writing now. The End.









































































p.s.

















good enough for cookies?


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Edited by mellowfellow (01/21/11 03:40 AM)

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Offlinemellowfellow

Registered: 11/10/10
Posts: 639
Last seen: 5 years, 11 months
Re: Someone tell me [Re: ganja girl]
    #516684 - 01/21/11 01:37 PM (14 years, 8 days ago)

what a coincidence! i pwn at eating peanut butter chocolate chip!


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