Good "1 upp'er" or completely untrue stories

[5BrothersFabrication]

Waaaaaaay back in the day, if you are familiar with Atomic Speedway, it used to sit right beside I-40 in west Knoxville, now a trucking terminal. There was a rest area (really just a pull-off) a couple hundred yards up the road, dad would park there and he and I would walk down the shoulder back to the track and sneak into the pits. It's dusky dark, we were crouched in the bushes waiting on a crowd to disperse so we could come out like we had been there all day, and dad catches a whiff of something and starts sniffing around. His eyes got as big as saucers when he realized we were hiding in a marijuana patch. He snatched up about 3-4 plants in each hand and we proceeded to run down the shoulder of the interstate with several 4' or better pot plants in hand. Reckon some hippies would toss seeds and stems, they just grew where they landed. Dad told me that story a couple years ago, and I only remember being bummed about not going to the races because he all of a sudden wanted to take some trees home.

Another dad story.- when I was a kid, dad had 2 '71 Mach 1's and a red '73 Mach 1 all at the same time. I vaguely remember dad getting out of the red one at a stop sign and punching a guy in a car, then taking his keys (all of this through the driver window) and throwing the keys into a hay field. I asked him about it as a teenager, all he said was "Sumbitch cut me off." Lots of good memories in ol' red.

 

[5BrothersFabrication]

There it is. Dad's red '73 and his buddy Corndog with his trademark stovepipe. Circa 1984-ish.

Lots of stories on Corndog too. :****:

 

[Stretch]

Upper here at work is just non stop. There is a group text he is not a part of because we will just text each other mid story about how full of **** he is while we sit through this crap at lunch. (We all eat together every day so its inevitable)

So earlier, I'm out in the warehouse palletizing a shipment and getting some other stuff together. I lean over and he sees the clip for my holster and asks what that little piece of metal is for. I simply say "holster" and go about my work. He proceeds to follow me around the warehouse going off on some story about how his dad or someone scored the highest at wells fargo at shooting for their security or some bullshit since they started scoring. STFU. Because you awkwardly stared at another dudes ass and noticed a small piece of metal does not warrant a damn story. This mother ****er. Just will NOT shut the hell up! Dumbass, I have not acknowledged you more than "yeah" or "cool" throughout your entire rambling bullshit. It's obvious I'm in the middle of something.