AND WATCH THE VIDEO!!
scroll down, peons.
I don’t know why our group always tried to plan ice skating events, we were always thwarted by divine intervention… aka exorbitant prices, closing times and junior practice sessions.
THE GREATEST THING AT THIEN’S HOUSE.
Remember that time Thien or someone held this BB gun war at Eldridge park. (I believe it was that BB gun fascination phase)
It was my first time going to the park at night let alone having a BB gun war……. Anyways. The kids were shooting away while I was on the swing set minding my business when Thien came up to be and handed me one of the shot guns….. and I was just holding it in my hand with Thien telling me to just SHOOT SOMEONE.ANYONE.
I couldn’t do it because at that time I strongly believe in NOT SHOOTING FRIENDS. That is until I had my back turned, ISOKEN (YES.ISOKEN.) shot my back. It didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. But still, HE SHOT ME WHEN I HAD MY BACK TURNED! Next time. NO MERCY. this only goes for Isoken.
OH REMEMBER THAT TIME WAFALO SHOT HADI ON THE FOREHEAD AND HE STARTED BLEEDING?! my god.
Have a nice day!!
- Silvia =D
Remember the times in First Colony when most of us were juniors without cars and Andrew was the only one with a car? I remember almost every week or so we would go to first colony and we would place tetris to try to fit 11 people into that small little corolla. It was funny because no one had a ride back home around 1am. So everyone had no choice but to cram together in Andrew’s car. I remember some people actually panicked because they would be afraid that a cop would pull us over. But thankfully none of that happened. Now look at all of us, most of us can drive and head of to different directions of the world.
“A guy who came to Fight Club for the first time, his ass was a wad of cookie dough. After a few weeks, he was carved out of wood.”
It started out as something small. A bunch of chump change nerds going nowhere with their lives, minds wrecked by boredom. We all searched for an answer and found that the answer laid within our fists. We went on in secret at first. Only a couple of us, duking it out. But then it grew, and pretty soon, it became known as…fighting at Thien’s house.
Fighters of all sorts came. Some desired glory and fame. Others wanted to prove themselves. Some wanted to establish dominance in front of spectators. And others fought as a way to escape from reality. Of course, you could say the same for the diversity of styles. Some were boxers while others learned other martial arts like Jeet Kun Do, Vovinam, and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. And yet, some didn’t give a rat’s ass about styles or anything. They stuck with good ol’ fashioned ferocious cat-fighting.
Despite our differences, we all agreed on the rules:
Rule #1 of fighting at Thien’s House: DO talk about the fights. We wanted as many people to join as possible
Rule #2 of fighting at Thien’s house: A fight is over if someone taps, screams, or if Thien says it’s over.
Rule #3 of fighting at Thien’s house: Bring your own trash cans.
Rule #4 of fighting at Thien’s house: All fights is subjected to documentation for future purposes.
Rule #5 of fighting at Thien’s house: We will eat after everything is done, so don’t fight on a full stomach.
And so, our fights raged on. Many of us spilled sweat, blood, and (regrettably) even puke on those floors. Yet, we were all allies. Fighting helped us because after fighting, everything else in your life got the volume turned down. Welcome to fighting at Thien’s House.
left a scar on my arm that I still have.
We were in the Kubby hole during C Lunch one day. -_- It was just the two of us and a cardboard box since everyone was out cramming >9000 Gov/Eco tests right before finals and Thien thought that it was a wonderful opportunity to try flinging his damn pen around. I, on the other hand, was doing his job and selling school supplies. He wanted a “challenge” so he put the cardboard box (his target) on the other side of the Kubby Hole (where I was standing) and tried to be all cool and throw it like a kunai because it was “more effective that way, Helen!” -_-. Anyway, he was doing fine the first couple of tosses and stabbed holes in the box which was fine but then the next toss, he threw it at my arm and when I looked down, blood was slowly starting to pool where he hit and now I have a damn crescent shaped scar on my right elbow. Thank you, Thien.
One night, Thien and I bought a crapload of dry ice for the sole purpose of fooling around with it. After tossing it into various liquids for that mysterious foggy effect, we decided the next most-appropriate action would be the create a dry ice bomb.
Making a dry ice bomb is simple; fill a plastic bottle with water, toss a chunk of dry ice inside, screw the cap on tightly, then run away. There’s something about explosions that make me giddy, so I had to persuade Thien to do it, on the condition we only put a tiny amount of the ice into the bottle. We did this, and tossed it out into his backyard.
THEN FOR SOME REASON, WE LOOKED UP THE LEGAL ISSUES VIA WIKIPEDIA:
Dry ice bombs have some serious risks:
Dud bombs which fail to explode are a major safety problem. They cannot be left, yet cannot be safely approached. Unexploded bombs can be shot or otherwise ruptured from a safe distance. Injuries are common, with glass bottles in particular posing a risk of serious injury.
Dry ice bombs are illegal in many jurisdictions, arrests are frequent and can lead to imprisonment.
Needless to say, we were terrified of the legal penal system and dying, so we wrapped our bodies, hands and faces in blankets,pillows, earphones, helmets, gloves, mittens, hoodies, etc/anything we could use to protect our bodies as we disable our potential nightmare baby.
Shooting at it with an airsoft gun didn’t work, so we ended jabbing it with a knife. Anticlimactic, but whatever.