Oroles
ArboristSite Operative
- Joined
- Nov 21, 2010
- Messages
- 198
- Reaction score
- 117
wash your hands dumb ass before you touch me; and dude` wtf was that ? man, you have serious issues. you just couldn`t leave me on the shelf could you.
What would your chainsaw say if it could talk to you?
- Thread starter almondgt
- Start date
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wigglesworth
Booned
U guys need to see a psychiatrist.....
Oroles
ArboristSite Operative
- Joined
- Nov 21, 2010
- Messages
- 198
- Reaction score
- 117
ups, was I thinking out loud ?
Justsaws
Addicted to ArboristSite
Don't make me cut you.
In the spirit of reality TV, Twinkle would yell, "WATCH OUT!" as I cut the small peckerpole out of the road...then complain about getting bounced around in the back of the pickup.
The Barbie Saw would complain about being stuck out in the dark cold shop with the Grapple Cat for company. Maybe sneeze and want some Benadryll.
The Barbie Saw would complain about being stuck out in the dark cold shop with the Grapple Cat for company. Maybe sneeze and want some Benadryll.
ChainsawmanXX
Addicted to ArboristSite
"AHHHH were never doing that again.... Ok maybe one more time?"
hahah
hahah
MS460WOODCHUCK
Addicted to ArboristSite
Mine would probably ##### about not cutting near as much as I used to with the old green ones.
hoss
Addicted to ArboristSite
My saw (saws) would probably say: "I'm never gonna see any wood if you keep buying more saws like this and anyway I should be the only 100cc+ saw you need."
Bounty Hunter
Addicted to ArboristSite
Our saws don't just talk...It's a freak'in circus around here...
Here's a classic from the past...
Horror in the Garage
Note: The following story is fictional, so if that bothers you simply click “Back” on your browser now…there is probably an interesting oil-ratio thread you can go check out…
But if you think chainsaws, with a little humor and a huge helping of ridiculous thrown in are entertaining, read on…
It was a dark, rainy night…the wind was blowing and the door rattled on the garage where a quiet group of chainsaws were sleeping…when, with a start, a 200T woke up and said “What’s that noise?”
A 260 Pro, annoyed at the intrusion in her sleep snipped “Hush up you little worrier. You climbing saws are so high-strung…it’s just the wind.”
The 200T, clearly rattled now, insisted…”There’s something down there on the floor! I heard it!”
“It’s just the Harleys…they hibernate in the winter like bears. They just snore sometimes”…The 260 Pro was wide awake now, and to her surprise, there did seem to be something different…and scary down there. “Maybe there is something…” she said more quietly now…”Wake up Grampa, he will know”
Beginning to panic, the 200T snapped “He won’t wake up…the 660’s too far down the shelf…you gotta wake up the Poulans!”
Five sleeping Poulans sat side-by-side on the shelf at the front of the garage, diagonally across from the Stihl shelf. The 200T was closest. “Wake up you Box-Store morons! Can’t you see there’s something on the floor right below you!”
As one, all five were immediately awake and clearly startled. Something was on the floor, and a low, rumbling snort and growl was coming from it.
Right about then, a car happened to drive by in the street…its headlights briefly shining through the glass panels at the top of the nine foot high garage door.
The cry from the frightened saws went up instantly…”AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”…………”MONSTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
The shadowy form on the floor took shape…it was close to eight feet long and impossibly massive. Its wicked teeth were bare, and gleamed in the moment of light.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
It was about this time I went in for the night’s final beer fridge run…and was shocked by the chaos. “QUIET!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
“You idiots are gonna wake up the Harleys, and there’s still snow on the ground!” With that statement, I turned on the big fluorescent shop lights.
“What in the world is wrong with you? Look what you gone and done…two of you Poulans have wet your beds!”
The 260 Pro, surprisingly, was the first to recover her composure…”IT’S THAT….THAT THING!!!!!!!!” …Indicating the immense form that was near my feet.
“Oh, I’m sorry guys…I didn’t have time to introduce you all, it was late when we got in…”
“Crew, meet 880 magnum, 880 Magnum, meet the crew”
The 880 grunted, clearly unwilling to be social to what appeared to be a collection of panicky misfits. There was a disturbing silence.
“Oh all right…just get to know each other. You guys are all gonna be working together”, With that, I grabbed a Beck’s and left.
Grandpa, the oldest and newly refurbished 044 was the first to break the uncomfortable silence…”Hey Sonny, that’s a mighty long bar you got there!”
The 880, sporting a massive 72 inch bar, explained…”I used to work in a paper plant. I used to cut big rolls of paper in half”
The 260 Pro was incredulous…”You haven’t cut any timber?????”
“Nope…Just paper. But believe you me, it wasn’t easy. It took all my great strength and this massive .404 carbide-tipped chain”.
The 660, plainly intimidated before, spoke up…”An 880 that’s never cut wood…Oh Brother. Look, he doesn’t even have any Dawgs”
“I didn’t need Dawgs, they didn’t want me to damage the paper rolls. My life changed last year…when the company bought new processing machinery, and didn’t need me any more. The company owner put me on CraigsList, and I sat for months.”
“And our Boss bought you?” the 200T asked, becoming a little more relaxed.
“Actually, your Mrs. Boss bought me. Your Boss emailed my former owner, and offered half the asking price…and my old owner took it”
“But your Boss didn’t have enough money. I guess he hardly ever has any money. But Mrs. Boss went to the bank and got the cash. She told Boss that they would never get another opportunity like this, to own an almost brand new 880 for a fraction of the cost of a new one.”
“Well, that sounds fair enough” Grampa 044 said, seeming to be satisfied with the turn of events. “You’re welcome here, but Boss has gotta get you a new bar…something like a 41 incher…we don’t got any trees big enough for the bar you’re wear’in!”
Here's the 880, with the 72" bar...the bar alone is 25 pounds...no way we are gonna be bucking rounds with this!
Note the saw sitting on the bar next to me, its the mighty 660 Magnum...even he looks tiny next to this monster...
I hoped you enjoyed that absurd little story, it was fun to write...
We ordered a new bar for the 880, a 8-pin sprocket and some chains...but there's still snow on the ground...with more on the way...can't go cut wood for a while longer....
Here's a classic from the past...
Horror in the Garage
Note: The following story is fictional, so if that bothers you simply click “Back” on your browser now…there is probably an interesting oil-ratio thread you can go check out…
But if you think chainsaws, with a little humor and a huge helping of ridiculous thrown in are entertaining, read on…
It was a dark, rainy night…the wind was blowing and the door rattled on the garage where a quiet group of chainsaws were sleeping…when, with a start, a 200T woke up and said “What’s that noise?”
A 260 Pro, annoyed at the intrusion in her sleep snipped “Hush up you little worrier. You climbing saws are so high-strung…it’s just the wind.”
The 200T, clearly rattled now, insisted…”There’s something down there on the floor! I heard it!”
“It’s just the Harleys…they hibernate in the winter like bears. They just snore sometimes”…The 260 Pro was wide awake now, and to her surprise, there did seem to be something different…and scary down there. “Maybe there is something…” she said more quietly now…”Wake up Grampa, he will know”
Beginning to panic, the 200T snapped “He won’t wake up…the 660’s too far down the shelf…you gotta wake up the Poulans!”
Five sleeping Poulans sat side-by-side on the shelf at the front of the garage, diagonally across from the Stihl shelf. The 200T was closest. “Wake up you Box-Store morons! Can’t you see there’s something on the floor right below you!”
As one, all five were immediately awake and clearly startled. Something was on the floor, and a low, rumbling snort and growl was coming from it.
Right about then, a car happened to drive by in the street…its headlights briefly shining through the glass panels at the top of the nine foot high garage door.
The cry from the frightened saws went up instantly…”AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”…………”MONSTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
The shadowy form on the floor took shape…it was close to eight feet long and impossibly massive. Its wicked teeth were bare, and gleamed in the moment of light.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
It was about this time I went in for the night’s final beer fridge run…and was shocked by the chaos. “QUIET!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
“You idiots are gonna wake up the Harleys, and there’s still snow on the ground!” With that statement, I turned on the big fluorescent shop lights.
“What in the world is wrong with you? Look what you gone and done…two of you Poulans have wet your beds!”
The 260 Pro, surprisingly, was the first to recover her composure…”IT’S THAT….THAT THING!!!!!!!!” …Indicating the immense form that was near my feet.
“Oh, I’m sorry guys…I didn’t have time to introduce you all, it was late when we got in…”
“Crew, meet 880 magnum, 880 Magnum, meet the crew”
The 880 grunted, clearly unwilling to be social to what appeared to be a collection of panicky misfits. There was a disturbing silence.
“Oh all right…just get to know each other. You guys are all gonna be working together”, With that, I grabbed a Beck’s and left.
Grandpa, the oldest and newly refurbished 044 was the first to break the uncomfortable silence…”Hey Sonny, that’s a mighty long bar you got there!”
The 880, sporting a massive 72 inch bar, explained…”I used to work in a paper plant. I used to cut big rolls of paper in half”
The 260 Pro was incredulous…”You haven’t cut any timber?????”
“Nope…Just paper. But believe you me, it wasn’t easy. It took all my great strength and this massive .404 carbide-tipped chain”.
The 660, plainly intimidated before, spoke up…”An 880 that’s never cut wood…Oh Brother. Look, he doesn’t even have any Dawgs”
“I didn’t need Dawgs, they didn’t want me to damage the paper rolls. My life changed last year…when the company bought new processing machinery, and didn’t need me any more. The company owner put me on CraigsList, and I sat for months.”
“And our Boss bought you?” the 200T asked, becoming a little more relaxed.
“Actually, your Mrs. Boss bought me. Your Boss emailed my former owner, and offered half the asking price…and my old owner took it”
“But your Boss didn’t have enough money. I guess he hardly ever has any money. But Mrs. Boss went to the bank and got the cash. She told Boss that they would never get another opportunity like this, to own an almost brand new 880 for a fraction of the cost of a new one.”
“Well, that sounds fair enough” Grampa 044 said, seeming to be satisfied with the turn of events. “You’re welcome here, but Boss has gotta get you a new bar…something like a 41 incher…we don’t got any trees big enough for the bar you’re wear’in!”
Here's the 880, with the 72" bar...the bar alone is 25 pounds...no way we are gonna be bucking rounds with this!
Note the saw sitting on the bar next to me, its the mighty 660 Magnum...even he looks tiny next to this monster...
I hoped you enjoyed that absurd little story, it was fun to write...
We ordered a new bar for the 880, a 8-pin sprocket and some chains...but there's still snow on the ground...with more on the way...can't go cut wood for a while longer....
It's funny that some saws call their owners idiots and dumbasses. 
GLOBOTREE
Addicted to ArboristSite
"its cold out at night, don't you realize that I am getting old and my chain rips daily? when you force me to sleep in the truck or outside in the garage, my guts ache from the moisture and all the sawdust you refuse to clean off of me freezes solid. You wake me up and wind me out first thing in the morning, half the time you dont even check to see if I have had my fill of gasor oil. But I STIHL start 4u and make you tonnes enough to afford a warm night once in a while, why? why do you treat me this way?
procarbine2k1
Addicted to ArboristSite
hahahaha
forestryworks
Addicted to ArboristSite
"How'd you like an ass whoopin?"
"Me or the tree?"
"By god, I'm talkin to you fella!"
Starter rope snaps back upon first start attempt.
"Me or the tree?"
"By god, I'm talkin to you fella!"
Starter rope snaps back upon first start attempt.
brokenbudget
Addicted to ArboristSite
is that a scrench in your pocket or are you happy to see me:dance:
slipknot
Addicted to ArboristSite
my old one would say - dam, its about time you got me some friends. i mean after 25 years. whatever?
my "new" one would say - oh man, thanks for bringing me home. i was dying in that old barn.
my projects would say - snore.
my "new" one would say - oh man, thanks for bringing me home. i was dying in that old barn.
my projects would say - snore.
GASoline71
Mr. Nice Guy
My McCullochs and Homelites are always snivelin' that there isn't enough beer in the fridge in the shop.
The Stihls are always askin' why they aren't out in the woods as much anymore.
Gary
The Stihls are always askin' why they aren't out in the woods as much anymore.
Gary
G
GoRving
Guest
Did you fart AGAIN?
