Most Goreish Thing You've Seen in The Real World (with your own eyes) (1 Viewer)

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So, there is a lot of gore and the like on here...and we have all seen a lot, for whatever reason we are here. But what is the most goreish thing you have actually seen through your own two mince pies? I shall start you off with mine...in Civvy Street, I was walking home, from a night out in Manchester, through Moss Side/Hulme and saw a flash of light, a loud bang and a hooded figure run off...I continued on my way and there was this young black dude on the grass verge with half his head missing and brains splattered on the grass. As is customary, I crossed the road and continued on my way, absolutely nothing to do with me...I ain't getting involved (I was only 17 at the time too). His death didn't even make it into the Manchester Evening News....what a pointless existence. And the most goreish thing I've seen on tour is hard to say because you do become immune to things, you just deal with situations. I've seen young children shot to fuck, a severely retarded man in Iraq being harrassed by locals before finally being beaten black and blue, then lynched him and cut off his cock. It was a "local dispute" and we weren't allowed to get involved in them, so we had to stand at a distance and watch (well, we didn't HAVE to watch...but we watched. There is video footage somewhere or other of it. I wasn't the one filming it by the way) He was accused of raping a baby and impregnating her with foreign spirits....he hadn't obviously, he was just from a different village, where his parents had died and he wandered aimlessly (the guy could barely walk, talk or do anything for himself). Now these are sad and hard to see, but you get over them. Thankfully I never saw another member of my troop injured or killed....as that would have been the worst. And so, the prize of the worst thing I have seen (and had to do) is........It was for me to enter a building that had been bombed to fuck and collect any human remains I could, so they could try and identify if the right fuckers had been killed or not. There were a couple of fairly intact bodies (ones that were identifiable as having once been human, at least) that the other guys attended to...and then there was the one in the kitchen. It was a fucking mess...pretty much all that was left was an eye and a load of brain matter...there was other goo with it. We had body bags for the other two, but nothing for this. On the floor in the kitchen was a warped and slightly melted plastic measuring jug, so I just scooped up this person. It smelt so bad I had to keep swallowing to stop myself from retching. So this person ended their life in a measuring jug just up to the 250ml mark...with just a bloody eye bobbing on top of the gooey liquid. I then had to hold the fucking thing in my lap, all the way back to base, as no other fucker would take responsibility for it. It was from that I got the nickname "Eye-eye". Although, now I look back, it WAS very goreish but also quite comical.

So there you go....come on, who has seen what?
 
Your mother naked, covered in caviar!
That's the WORST thing you have ever seen? Now I admit my mum ain't no oil painting anymore although she was a model in Manchester and London when she was younger...which is where you have probably seen her. Mainly due to the fact she was cremated 35 years ago, so the worst thing you have seen is a hot lady covered in caviar. You really should get your fat ass from behind your computer and see the world....it is kind of cool.
 
Used to pick bodies up every few weeks that had been hit by trains . Did that for 12 years
I had a mate that did that...well, not bodies, just debris from the line...but that included the odd body. His favourite story to tell was when a cow had strayed on the line and been hit....it got caught under the train and he turns up with a chainsaw and chops the fucker up. Walks back past a train full of people staring at him with a chainsaw covered in blood. Legend!
 
Just my own injuries. Cuts etc. Once when 16 me and a friend wanted to make a kind of log cabin shelter outside in a little forest we could sleep in and go to and sit round a little fire and get stoned. We were cutting branches long and straight and using very long nails to nail them to 4 trees we found in a square. I was using a handsaw to trim the little branches off and used to much force and sawed into my index finger on the hand holding the branch. It was deep and ragged,full of bits of wood and bled like it was going to kill me. That was freaky. I got several stitches to fix it. Never finished our stoner cabin.
I also once got a tin of Cadbury chocolate cake and after using the tin opener the lid was still attached by a bit of metal. I twisted it then I grabbed it on the nice sharp edge with my finger and thumb and pulled. I sliced right down to the bone in my thumb and could see lumps of fat and other stuff I'd never seen before hanging out. I had to get a taxi to hospital, which a friend paid for, and again had stitches to close it. They left a lump of something hanging out which died and fell off and still to this day I can't grip hard on my thumb as I will press on something which causes extreme pain and discomfort. I think it may be a nerve and was the thing hanging out to start with. I actually had a job interview the next day for mechanical engineering and had a big bandage on my hand. If I had thought about it I should have said I was working on some kind of machine or I was making something but instead I told the truth. It was a tin of chocolate cake.
Needless to say I was not employed by them.
I've never really seen other people hurt themselves. Nothing that I can remember anyway.
I have other memories like these of times I hurt myself but no dead bodies. None I feel safe talking about here without going to prison...😋
Always worse when it is yourself....an injury I mean...
An old comrade of mine (I didn't really like him but I was his NCO at the time and thus I had to visit him in hospital) lost his leg in an explosion...so I visited him and he was refusing to believe that the lower half of his body was his. He kept saying his other leg didn't look like that before and that his cock was bigger/smaller (I can't remember) but all batshit stuff....he kept asking me where we were storing his lower body. He just couldn't accept that he had lost a leg. Was sad that....I would like to tell you more about him but that literally was the last time I was or heard of him again. His name was Phil if it helps.
 
Death occurred for a few times where I was present.
Never seen it.
I wanted a glimpse.
But I was always too late.

I feel death’s present everywhere.
Like a cosy warm blanket of immortality.
He’s kind.
You know?
The Reaper.
The Reaper is a kind soul yes...and I agree, for every death I've seen, I've felt more mortal and immortal. The old Bono line of "Thank God tonight it's them instead of you" rings out a lot in my life. Nowadays I live a "normal" life on Civvy Street as if none of any of what have seen exists. It almost isn't a memory through my own eyes, it is as if I am watching myself from above doing those things. I've been told (by the air force counsellor at the time) that that is the correct way of remembering traumatic events. People with PTSD relive the moment through their own eyes...which is bad. I dunno, it is all in there, just can't be arsed with it...too busy in life trying to juggle the bills (now that's real trauma haha)
 

Lips_of_Anubis

Barks Up Wrong Trees On Thin Ice
So, there is a lot of gore and the like on here...and we have all seen a lot, for whatever reason we are here. But what is the most goreish thing you have actually seen through your own two mince pies? I shall start you off with mine...in Civvy Street, I was walking home, from a night out in Manchester, through Moss Side/Hulme and saw a flash of light, a loud bang and a hooded figure run off...I continued on my way and there was this young black dude on the grass verge with half his head missing and brains splattered on the grass. As is customary, I crossed the road and continued on my way, absolutely nothing to do with me...I ain't getting involved (I was only 17 at the time too). His death didn't even make it into the Manchester Evening News....what a pointless existence. And the most goreish thing I've seen on tour is hard to say because you do become immune to things, you just deal with situations. I've seen young children shot to fuck, a severely retarded man in Iraq being harrassed by locals before finally being beaten black and blue, then lynched him and cut off his cock. It was a "local dispute" and we weren't allowed to get involved in them, so we had to stand at a distance and watch (well, we didn't HAVE to watch...but we watched. There is video footage somewhere or other of it. I wasn't the one filming it by the way) He was accused of raping a baby and impregnating her with foreign spirits....he hadn't obviously, he was just from a different village, where his parents had died and he wandered aimlessly (the guy could barely walk, talk or do anything for himself). Now these are sad and hard to see, but you get over them. Thankfully I never saw another member of my troop injured or killed....as that would have been the worst. And so, the prize of the worst thing I have seen (and had to do) is........It was for me to enter a building that had been bombed to fuck and collect any human remains I could, so they could try and identify if the right fuckers had been killed or not. There were a couple of fairly intact bodies (ones that were identifiable as having once been human, at least) that the other guys attended to...and then there was the one in the kitchen. It was a fucking mess...pretty much all that was left was an eye and a load of brain matter...there was other goo with it. We had body bags for the other two, but nothing for this. On the floor in the kitchen was a warped and slightly melted plastic measuring jug, so I just scooped up this person. It smelt so bad I had to keep swallowing to stop myself from retching. So this person ended their life in a measuring jug just up to the 250ml mark...with just a bloody eye bobbing on top of the gooey liquid. I then had to hold the fucking thing in my lap, all the way back to base, as no other fucker would take responsibility for it. It was from that I got the nickname "Eye-eye". Although, now I look back, it WAS very goreish but also quite comical.

So there you go....come on, who has seen what?
I watched and listened to my best friend burn alive inside of a humvee just west of Fallujah. And I hit a guy with a 40mm HEDP round from my M203 square in the chest. It twisted his body up like a Twizzler with his guts squeezed out and his lower jaw missing. I’ve posted the photo on here somewhere.
 
I watched and listened to my best friend burn alive inside of a humvee just west of Fallujah. And I hit a guy with a 40mm HEDP round from my M203 square in the chest. It twisted his body up like a Twizzler with his guts squeezed out and his lower jaw missing. I’ve posted the photo on here somewhere.
HEDPs are fucking most things up but a guy's chest? Sweet...It's fucking messy isn't it? Yet, I would be more horrified if I found some bastard had run over my cat.
As for your best friend....that is tragic, I feel your loss on that one. I am fortunate to have never lost a member of my squadron...all made it safely home (some minus limbs I grant you, but home alive). I was working with 22 regiment of SAS back in Iraq and two of the SAS died in a shitty Puma that day, got trapped when the Puma rolled on them and it caught fire....one of them was strapped to fuck with explosives. I was back at base but when the guys came back, they were fucking distraught. So glad I wasn't out there with them that day...but then, I equally wish I was because I felt completely helpless back at base.
 
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Either I know nothing about poetry, or that's shit 🤔
It's 2021...no fucker rhymes their poetry any more..."Modern Poetry" they call it...."Fucking shite" I call it. What would have been better is....

Death occurred a few times,
And each time I was near,
Some involved bad crimes,
And others rampant deer.

I always tried to peak,
to listen to them moan,
but I'm a sad old geek,
who couldn't get off his phone.
 
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