Just My Luck

Lesolee (Sith Lord)

Patron Meritorious
The really sad thing is that 90% of the most entertaining (horrifying?) tales will lead swiftly to my being ID'd by OSA.
Wirestripper, if you are worried about being ID'd by OSA then please be very careful what you write. I'm sure they could already ID you from what you have said so far; it would just take time.

We all want to hear your stories :thumbsup: , but NOT at the expense of putting you at risk. :bigcry:


Patron with Honors
Hummm sorry for the delay folks. Been super busy. I haven't even had time to play my online games!

Let's see.

Hummmmmm again....Give me the night to ponder my next anecdote!


These are great little anecdotes! Do be careful about getting fingered, but you sure do make them entertaining. :)


Patron with Honors
Next wee story incoming!

This is a Tragedy taking place in the magical land of Home, in 1990.

My mother and father were in the process of getting a divorce. My dad had us for the weekend.

My brother - 2 years younger than I - had been in a spot of trouble at school. I had been in more than a spot, but was larger of frame.

One morning, I woke to hear my dad screaming bloody murder at my brother. He had just taken his Pro TRs course, and made himself up a punishment.

Squirrel TRs tech.

I fail to recall the exact commands of the original, (but no doubt similar) commands, but it involved my father grabbing my brother's head and using it as a shot-put to hurl him to the opposite wall of the room.

Crying of course was a dramatization, and therefore a flunk, which resulted in yet more "body-handling" to the result of...

You guessed it...more crying.

Being the tender age of 10 or so, I freaked out when I saw my brothers convulsing body being hurled across the room to twisted Scientology TRs commands, and the end result of my brother's crumpled, tear-stained face lying on the floor just about broke me, I am not ashamed to admit.

This went on for about thirty minutes, until I realized in my childlike way that only another adult could stop him.

Thus, I called my mother, and only then did the "ethics gradient", (his words) stop, mainly due to a threat of child abuse, however unfounded, ( remember, Scilons can't sue other Scilons for fear of an SP declare).

To this day, my brother has blocked it out of his memory, and begins weeping for - to his mind - some unknown reason when I bring up TRs and ethics in the same sentence.

Fuckers. They will all pay, if its the last thing I do.


Patron with Honors
Ummmm. Please forgive my appalling redundancy and lack of grammatical skill tonight...I am at the worse for drink I'm afraid!


Patron with Honors
Here is something more humorous!

I was a student back in Los Gatos Academy at the time.

Being the shortest person in class, I - of course - was picked on by the older and/or larger folk in Addie's class.

One day, I was pants'd in front of the High School basketball team, (then operating under that one black guy who got fired for hiring a prostitute in Las Vegas) by a horrible bastard named Kyle LeClaire.

Vowing revenge, and being a cruel and totally unempathetic person in general...(still am to this day I daresay): I decided to pay him back. It wasn't the first time Kyle had screwed with me...

I went home, took few gallons of diesel fuel, and poured it in a metal bucket, containing about the same weight in Styrofoam (yes, lots of styrofoam).

As hopefully some of you know, this turned into a rather large amount of - I won't say the name for search engines, but it starts with "neigh",and ends with "palm" - horribly flammable material that wont go out for water, sand, dirt, or any other conventional fire-putter-outer.

I then went back to school and waited.

Kyle cornered me on the blacktop the next day. He punched me a couple of times.....

I poured out my special potion, and flung a match at him.

He almost went home on an ambulance, and I laughed my ass off for the next three days until he came back....at which point I was properly contrite (he didn't want to get in to trouble for kicking the shit out of me, so of course he couldn't report who it was that lit him on fire) .

Fun stuff.

PS - The author does not condone the creation of illegal substances in any way or form, and advises all those bullied to seek the guidance of a school counselor or other therapist.

Woggin' out

Patron with Honors
Ha Ha Ws

Love your tales WS. Thanks for putting them up. You may have a "way" with the "drink" but you have a way with words as well. You are a dramedy writer indeed! :bigcry: :roflmao:


Patron with Honors

You can send him a private message. Just click on his name and a menu of options appears. Its the second option.
Ummmm. Seems quiet, I'm still gonna post my next O/W...
I mean, memory:

In CTO, the way to prevent the supes from surprising you was to sit in a corner, with large stacks of dictionaries to either side of you like walls.

One day, myself and a Bridge staffer named Neto Cepeda were tucked in a corner surrounded by a truly massive pile of dictionaries. In the midst of a truly revolutionary recitation of random pig noises. Neto shushed me.

Said I: "What the hell are you doing?!?!?"

Said he: "Just check it out, I want to try something"

He shushed me again. Keep in mind, this was the Practical Courseroom at CTO. A background roar was normal. Again I asked "WTF are you doing"

Again he said, "Just wait, This will be hilarious....Shhhhhh!"

He repeated the "Shhh" twice. On the second time, it spread.

"Shhhh", "be quiet", "Shhh", "Shhhhh" repeated around the room.

Soon enough, these ronbots, used to going silent at the sound of "shhhh",(touch-assist) were all completely silent. Every. Single. Person.

The CTO Practical room was a tomb. You could hear a pin drop into a pile of feather pillows. The "silent-for-touch-assist" drill had been so ingrained in these ronbots that any "be-silent" command was followed.

Approximately one minute of pure, blessed silence later, the LRH PPRO WUS screamed out "What the fuck! Get back to your studies!" in her weird, cup-haircut old Aussie accent.

But the moment had indeed come. One person saying "shhh" had set off a revolution of quiet for about a minute.

It was never to happen again. Neto's beautiful wife left him, and he blew back to Canada.

More again when it occurs.

How do you know about this ??


Patron with Honors
Its been a very long time since I posted. Also, as I no longer fear OSA or even being declared in the tiniest amount...I will now answer correctly if anyone PM's me my first name. (That way at least I know you know me lol). As a consequence, my stories will no have a tiny bit more detail, and I will no longer falsify names and places!

Next story soon to come!


Patron with Honors
This is a tale of the insanity of security guards.

At the end of 1999, there was an event. The "New Years 2000 event" Held under a large tent in the parking lot of LA org. This was to be a milestone, a major win for all Sea Org members everywhere. Hell, Isaac Hayes was playing. It was a concert, a victory and a fundraiser rolled into one.

The evening of the event, I cleaned and donned my very best civvies (SO-speak for civilian clothes).

The event started with great fanfare. Nowhere had a giant tent been so packed with "incredible OT postulates"

I met up that night with some very old school friends who had joined the SO and been scattered far and wide over the western United States. We decided to go outside and reminisce over a smoke.

As we dallied there, talking over current and past times, Joe (Josh? John?) the portly and short-brown-haired security guard began yelling at us...

"Get inside now" he said "Midnight is coming" he said. "I will fucking drag your asses into an ethics check if you don't" he said.

Confused....we wondered suddenly (we were all nerds) if there was going to be some sort of world-ending apocalypse or zombie outbreak or Y2K nuclear war....

Nope...no such luck. He screamed at us: "get inside!" Asked we: "Why the heck for? Its hot in there, Hayes looks like he's being forced at gunpoint, and we aren't done with our cigarettes".

The security officer looked at us like a cyclops minus one eye: "BECAUSE BULLETS RAIN DOWN FROM THE FUCKING SKY!!!!" He bellowed. We stared at one another, and scrambled inside...not from the statement, but from the fear of persecution of being logical.

"How can a random event tent protect you from bullets falling at terminal velocity?" you may ask. The answer...it can't. No way, nohow. Joe was just being a good little Secure-O-Bot.

But it demonstrates both the inanity and the PR-Mindedness of the church. Sacrificing reason and fact for fear-mongering and foolishness.

More to come!


Patron with Honors
PS - We managed to get Isaac Hayes ("Chef") to play approximately 38 seconds of "Suck on my chocolate salty balls" before the LRH PPRO WUS charged up onstage and silenced him, though to his tactful credit, he only hummed the profane parts. Heh.

It was a good millennial celebration for a repressed Scientology-raised young adult :p