In 1986, Dazza was on holiday in Kenya after dropping out of Broadmeadows High School.

On a pissed hike through the bush, he came across a young bull elephant standing with one leg raised in the air. The elephant seemed distressed, so Dazza approached it very carefully. He got down on one knee, inspected the elephants foot, and found a large piece of wood deeply embedded in it. As carefully and as gently as he could, Daz worked the wood out with his knife, after which the elephant gingerly put down its foot.

The elephant turned to face Dazza, and with a rather curious look on its face, stared at him for several tense moments. Daz stood frozen, shitting his pants, thinking of nothing else but being trampled. Eventually the elephant trumpeted loudly, turned and walked away. Dazza never forgot that elephant or the events of that day.

Twenty years later, Dazza was walking through the Melbourne Zoo with his teenaged son. As they approached the elephant enclosure, one of the creatures turned and walked over to near where Dazza and his son Brock were standing. The large bull elephant stared at Dazza, lifted its front foot off the ground, then put it down. The elephant did that several times then trumpeted loudly, all the while staring at the man.

Remembering the encounter in 1986, Dazza could not help wondering if this was the same elephant. Dazza summoned up his courage, climbed over the railing and made his way into the enclosure. He walked right up to the elephant and stared back in wonder. The elephant trumpeted again, wrapped its trunk around one of Dazza's legs and slammed him against the railing, killing him instantly.

Probably wasn't the same f***ing elephant.

Dazza always was a dumb c***.

This is for everyone who sends me those heart-warming bullshit stories.

C&P
HAVE YOU EVER BEEN GUILTY OF LOOKING AT OTHERS YOUR OWN AGE AND THINKING, SURELY I CAN'T LOOK THAT OLD. WELL . . . YOU'LL LOVE THIS ONE....It's pure Gold! lmao!!

MY NAME IS KAREN , AND I WAS SITTING IN THE WAITING ROOM FOR MY FIRST APPOINTMENT WITH A NEW DENTIST. I NOTICED HIS DDS DIPLOMA ON THE WALL, WHICH BORE HIS FULL NAME. SUDDENLY, I REMEMBERED A TALL, HANDSOME, DARK-HAIRED BOY WITH THE SAME... NAME HAD BEEN IN MY HIGH SCHOOL CLASS SOME 50-ODD YEARS AGO. COULD HE BE THE SAME GUY THAT I HAD A SECRET CRUSH ON, WAY BACK THEN?

UPON SEEING HIM, HOWEVER, I QUICKLY DISCARDED ANY SUCH THOUGHT. THIS BALDING, GRAY-HAIRED MAN WITH THE DEEPLY LINED FACE WAS WAY TOO OLD TO HAVE BEEN MY CLASSMATE.

AFTER HE EXAMINED MY TEETH, I ASKED HIM IF HE HAD ATTENDED PERSHING HIGH SCHOOL.

'YES. YES, I DID. I'M A DOUGHBOY,' HE GLEAMED WITH PRIDE.

WHEN DID YOU GRADUATE?' I ASKED.

HE ANSWERED, 'IN 1959. WHY DO YOU ASK?'

"YOU WERE IN MY CLASS!", I EXCLAIMED.

HE LOOKED AT ME CLOSELY.

THEN, THAT

UGLY,

OLD,

BALD,

WRINKLED FACED,

FAT-ASSED,

GRAY-HAIRED,

DECREPIT

SON-OF-A-BIATCH

ASKED,
"WHAT DID YOU TEACH???"