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Have you ever found out that something really morbid, illegal, or just plain odd happened in your parents lives that, if it weren't for that, you wouldn't exsist?

I always new that I was a mistake, and eventually figured out I'm a mistake because of Marijuana. Accually, about 3/4ths of my friends wouldn't know me if my parents hadn't smoked pot.

But today I found out, that if it weren't for a Serial Killer I wouldn't have been born. My mom was attacked by a serial killer that would rearend women after they got out of work late. He would then rape and kill them. My mom was only saved by her sheep skin coat, and her face was seriously cut up. After she was finally able to leave her room, when she was at the supermarket(she lives in a small town) she heard everyone talking about her and how they felt sorry for her. This is the entirely the reason she moved down to Texas, where she met my father, smoke pot, fucked up, and made me!

If it wasn't for my dad getting drunk one night, hijacking a military Land Rover after punching out an MP at RAF Akrotiri and driving around the whole island till he ran out of fuel, my mum wouldn't have met him in hospital and then given evidence against him at a court marshall.

Then they dated.

If my dad's father didn't die when he did, my dad wouldn't have moved back to Cedar Rapids from Colorado, bought the house he grew up in from his mother, and eventually meet my mother.

If Penn State had never..uh...been built...um...

whoa AB, that's really strange and cool...i dont think anything that cool happened with my parents though.

My dad was in Asia in 1963, doing his second year of service. He was coming up for an inspection by his commanding officer, and his shit was seriously fucked up; he probably would have been removed from his post if he was in fact inspected. However, just as he was about to be inspected, the officer's aide came up to him, and whispered something in his ear. Shortly after, the officer addressed the men, saying that the inspection had been cancelled on account of JFK's assassination. So, if JFK hadn't have been killed that night, my dad would have been moved elsewhere in the military, causing a different chain of events to unravel that likely would not have ended in the birth of myself and of my sister and half-siblings (from his first marriage).

Aww, how come my parents didn't do anything interesting in concieving me?

This probably has to be the most interesting thing: If my dad didn't break up with one of the many women he dated before getting married and/or didn't move to Western PA in search of work, He never would have met my mom, they never would have gotten married, and I wouldn't be typing this message.

HemlockGrey wrote:If Penn State had never..uh...been built...um...

Are you sure you don`t mean the state pen.

Considering I was present at my dad's high school graduation and he married my mother while still in high school I would imagine there's a story behind my existence. There's likely a better story behind my parent's deciding to keep me and in getting married. They seemed to have done it all rather quickly so my mother must have realized she was pregnant very early on.

Now, my sister exists because because my parents got married because of me.

Well, if my mother's family hadn't decided to emigrate to America...I don't know why or when they did exactly, but I do know that my mom's family lived through WWII in rural Italy and had to put up with Nazis at some point. That might have been a direct influence, but I'm not sure...

Dalton wrote:Well, if my mother's family hadn't decided to emigrate to America...I don't know why or when they did exactly, but I do know that my mom's family lived through WWII in rural Italy and had to put up with Nazis at some point. That might have been a direct influence, but I'm not sure...

Thats how it was for my family. My grandpa had to put up with Nazis running around AND Americans trying to kill him. Example: So my gramps and his gramps are riding down the street on their bikes when a fucking American warplane come sout of nowhere and startsshooting at them. Both of 'em dived into a ditch which basically saved them. And his gramps shit his pants.

So after that my grandpa moved to America. Not to sure how my parents met though.

Nothing much except Mom getting snubbed by parents for getting into schools she wanted too. She's a korean woman and they felt education was nonsense even when she got a scholarship to enter schools at her time. So she ran away to her eldest sister place(yes the diaparity of age amongst my aunts is quite large)

Dad having MANY problems with his parents that made him think foriegn duty in the Army was preferable to staying near grandma.

So basically thank my grandparents for being stubborn mules of some sort and my parents being rebellious.

My Dad was a Veterinarian in Vietnam, and so he was constantly be flown around to various bases to check for rabies outbreaks and other things. On one such trip, he had to stay the night at the base before he could catch a ride on the next chopper out, so they put him in a spare hut they had for the night. Late that night, there a VC attack on the base, light gunfire at first. Dad woke up and was about to get off his bed and roll onto the floor to get his boots on and collect his gear (all too often the NVA and VC would fire at waist level into the huts to kill the soldiers who would sit up in bed to get ready), when the gunfire suddenly stopped and an all-clear was given. Since there were no more shots being fired, he drifted back to sleep. He woke up the next morning and asked a few questions about what had happened last night, and shared his own experience with some of the base personnel. One of them asked which hut he had been in.

Well, turns out that the hut in question was apparently the home of several Pit Vipers, which was the reason it wasn't being used in the first place (apparently whoever shacked him up there was new to the base or just one big fucking idiot). Had my father rolled out of his bunk then, he'd probably be dead now, and I wouldn't be here.

Then there's the incident with the grenade pin, but there's probably dozens of additional stories from Vietnam that would have resulted in my not being alive today.

I havent a clue....as I'm adopted its pretty obvious I was a fuck up of some sort....but more than that I dont know.

Keevan_Colton wrote:I havent a clue....as I'm adopted its pretty obvious I was a fuck up of some sort....but more than that I dont know.

Seeing how wierd you are i`ll look in my crystal ball........................."Your mother was Cher".

If Hitler hadn't risen to power, my grandfather's family wouldn't have moved to Britain and he wouldn't have met my grandmother, so my dad wouldn't have been conceived.
If my grandfather had't then joined thye British army, he wouldn't have changed hi surname to somethign more Englsih, andI would have a German surname

I guess I owe my existance to the Russian Revolution, the Purges and the Gulag. After all if Boris Pasternak hadden't been oppressed, he never would have wrote Dr. Zhivago, which was the movie my parent's met during....

The immigration laws were passed just before my mother's family imigrated from Mexico to Chicago, where she went to Loyola and met my dad, the second generation of his family born there.Other events, farther back, were that my great-grandfather moved to America to (probably) try to farm without those damned Russians from having ANOTHER war. If you want to go REALLY far, my greatX15 grandparents in Mexico walled off their valley from Aztec invasion. The Aztecs did not have siege weapons(Although it would be bogus to penalize the Aztecs some more in AoK), so my ancestors avoided becoming heart sacrifices.

I suppose the most remarkable event that led to my birth was the Khmer Rouge takeover of Cambodia. My mother had previously worked teacher high school physics and chemistry and later as a translator. If the Khmer Rouge ever found out who she really was she would surely have been killed. Under that motivation, she escaped across a minefield to Thailand twice (they sent her back the first time). Then she moved the the US, met my father, got married and had kids.

Having already covered my paternal lineage, now I would like to cover my maternal lineage. To my knowledge, my mother does not qualify for this directly, but her father certainly does. To preface: if not for my Grandfather's knowledge of the newspaper funny pages, I might not be alive today.

The scene: World War 2, over Europe. My grandfather's B-17 is hit by German Anti-Aircraft fire. The damage isn't critical, but there's no way they can make it back to their base in England. They are forced to ditch over France (this was after D-Day), but they had no idea where the front was, so they could just as easily be jumping into German territory as Allied territory. One of the crewmen was Jewish, so they took everyone's dog tags just in case they landed in German territory. The pilot stayed with the plane to attempt an emergency landing, everyone else jumped.

On the way down, my grandfather could have sworn he saw shots being fired up at them. When he hit the ground, he was greeted with a rifle pointed right at him. Fortunately, it was an American.

"What's your name, soldier?" he barked.
"Hell, I don't think that's going to do me much good, 'cause my name's Kaiser."

Finally the American soldier asked him about the newspapers, specifically the funny pages, because he knew the Germans read the news, but figured they didn't bother reading Blondie. After my Grandfather displayed adequate knowledge of the comics, the other soldier eased up. Then the commander came along in his jeep to drive my Grandfather to meet the rest of his crew. My Grandfather noticed that there were spent shell casings on the floor of the jeep, and they were still warm. Apparently the commander thought that my Grandfather's crew might be a German insertion team, and attempted to shoot them on the way down, though the commander attempted to explain it away as just a way of letting his troops know where he was and that he was coming...*cough cough*

My grandmom (dead now) in the winter war.

A dog messed with her, she got out of the tent and took the dog out for a walk. When she got back a mortar had struk the tent killing everyone iside.

In the countinuation(sp?) war, she fooled a Soviet airman.

The airman straifed her in the snow, she was on skies and she went downhill really fast straight against the plane so the airman missed her.

My Granddad got captured buy 2 russians but he killed them bouth wit his knife when they did't pay attension.

He got his gun and 3 bullets after that, retreated back to Finnish lines when a russhian took a shot at him and missed. he shot with a Mauser gun and hit him in the head from the hip at a range about 50m.

I don't know how true this is but I did get the firsthand account of those war stories and more.

When my father didn't use a [strong?] rubber. Boom had me. Fucked their lives up good.


Anyway my grandmother (mom's side) moved to California with my grandfather because someone in his family died there and they wanted to go to the funeral but decided to just stay there. Later, someone else died back in Ohio and they moved back.

I am a product of morbid relations.

I owe my existance to the Mawson Expedition to the South Pole, my great uncle Belgrave Ninnis fell down a crevasse and died in Antarctica, my Great Grandfather, met my Great Grandmother at his memorial service.

Several years later, here I am.

The sixties!

Well, if Mussolini had never come to power in Italy, my grandmother would never have immigrated to San Francisco and she would have never have met my grandfather and they wouldn't have had my mother...and by extension I would never have been born.....so in an odd and twisted way, I owe my existance to a fascist dictator.