If enough people have interests like your's, Mr. Eye, we could carry out the tournament outlined in the original post.

I am down with that idea, it would be quite fun. I just need someone else to go with me and a digital camera.

Buckeye, Consider me your next roadkill partner.

Haha this thread is hilarious... I laughed so hard... A roadkill tournament would definitely be a good time for all

how hard did you laugh?

pretty damn hard

What we had in mind for the tournament was all of the teams drive around separately, then, when they find something, they call either UB or I on our cell phones and we go to survey the situation. We would then gather photographs of the kill to ensure that it was genuine and captured on the day of the tournament. We would really only be driving around...not really looking for kill ourselves. We would then do some investigative work to find the histories of all the kills, we'd post the pictures w/that, and then everyone would vote on which team had the best overall kill quality.

Yeah, we need some pictures with both Gaz and UB in them. That calls for a third party (Buckeye, I expect a date with your girlfriend as payment for getting you in on Roadkill Trip 3). ;)

Anyway, guys, this is classic. Purely and simply classic.

Update:

While on Fall Break from their University, the Roadkillers hunted again.

Their journies led them to a road just off of Old US 30. An informant notified the hunters of a gut-strewn slay that needed to be recorded. After some tisking and tasking around the roads of Kosciusko County, the informant paid off.
Behold, Larry the Racoon:

http://www.nubblies.net/ubb/uploads/1065666444.JPG

You see, the thing with Larry is, he had an addiction to rubber. Pencil Erasers, Dog Chew Toys, Basketballs, and Rubber Bands were amongst his favorite things in life. Couple all this with the fact that dump-trucks use rubber tires, and Larry's life was headed down a dark path. Very early in the morning on Monday October 6th, 2003; Scott Duvall was driving a boulder-loaded dump-truck to a construction site to dispatch his load. Prior to delivery, Scott ran into Larry...literally. As you will now see, the results were less than beautiful.

http://www.nubblies.net/ubb/uploads/1065666964.JPG

http://www.nubblies.net/ubb/uploads/1065667001.JPG

http://www.nubblies.net/ubb/uploads/1065667032.JPG

http://www.nubblies.net/ubb/uploads/1065667089.JPG

Now, I wish I could sit here and tell you that Larry was an asshole who had no friends or family. But I'm not going to lie to you. You see, not only was Larry a popular fellow in his neck of the woods, but he was also married.

Now, as the hunters have come to find out, racoons will go suicidal when their loved ones meet the big Goodyear. And sure enough, Larry's wife, Ann the Racoon was found not five feet away from her late-husband:

http://www.nubblies.net/ubb/uploads/1065667233.JPG

Ann took her own life, because in a way, it was already gone. Once Scott bumped over Larry, Ann was ruined. She did what no one likes to see, ran in front of a moving Geo...poor bitch.

http://www.nubblies.net/ubb/uploads/1065667331.JPG

Notice the fangs...possibly indicating a tobacco problem

http://www.nubblies.net/ubb/uploads/1065667385.JPG

This tragic site was the home to two fatalities too many. Sadly, someone must visually capture these remains if not for the learning experience of others, the memory of those who've passed.

Lesson for today?

An addiction to rubber is only safe if you're smart about it. I don't mourn Larry's death, simply because he let his addiction get out of hand.

But Ann....Ann didn't deserve this. Except for the fact that she married a dumb shit.

After actually reading this thread, I think it's hilarious and decided that it deserves a bump. However, along with this bump, I am also hoping to see some more pictures and stories in the near future.

this is absolutely disgusting

Roadkilling: A Wintry Mix

The Roadkillers have been at it again this winter. With the aid of their trusty mobile, keen sight, and brand new D560 digital camera on hand, the quality of the hunters' job has gone up tenfold.

First, our journies take us to the stale town of Winona Lake. Particularly Kings Highway.

Renny The Racoon

Renny was known for her helping hand in the community. She worked in the PlayPlace at the local fast food restaurant supervising kids who were playing in a tub of plastic balls. Renny had a husband who loved her about as much as OJ loved Nicole. Due to this adverse environment at home, Renny was often known for standing out in the middle of the road waiting to be killed. On November 28th, 2003; Renny's wish came true.

A Mac Truck, which had somehow stumbled off of the truck route and onto Kings Highway, hit Renny with the left side of his truck, back side tires, front set, inner wheel. Renny now lives on in photos.

http://www.nubblies.net/ubb/uploads/1075402143.JPG

You'll notice some minor scar tissue on the left hand side of this photo.
http://www.nubblies.net/ubb/uploads/1075402207.JPG

http://www.nubblies.net/ubb/uploads/1075402248.JPG

Suicide? I hardly think so. After a long pattern of spousal abuse, Renny reached her limit. It just so happens that a Mac Truck was kind enough to show her the door to the next world. Live on Renny, live on....

[ January 29, 2004, 04:22 PM: Message edited by: Orgazmo ]

The afternoon of January 11, 2004 dropped to the hunters a task. The task? To traverse the hundred miles of road between Warsaw and Muncie in an attempt deliver themselves back to their college. Setting out for a simple trip, the hunters could never have been prepared for the ungodly amount of kill they would encounter.

Just as the pilgrimage began, the cellphone of Hunter A began to vibrate uncontrollably near his crotch. Quickly, the call was answered. The voice on the other end told of a prize 20 yards off the road near Manns' Country Kitchen. You see, the Hunters were being looked after this day. Not an hour before they left, sim_flex_x began a journey very similar to the one that they had in front of them. Although their paths forked just before Wabash, the similarity was enough for eagle eye to spot a monster kill & deliver the tip. Thanks to this tip, the hunters found themselves a new friend.

Trent the Deer was good as pissing. No, he didn't have a large penis. His urethra wasn't any wider than your's or mine. His bladder wasn't made of steel. You see, Trent specialized in a completely different type of pissing. While other deer were grazing in fields and gathering food for their loved ones, Trent was sitting alone in his bed of twigs, drinking Bud Light as he pissed his life away.

He didn't get out much, which was probably for the best. The fact that Trent was inebriated 95% of his waking hours meant that he wasn't too socially acceptable. It wasn't necessarily a lack of care that led Trent down this dark path. He had tried to straighten up numerous times, just never successfully. On the eve of Christmas, Trent made a pact with himself to not have one sip of alcohol. His plan was to use the day shopping around in the forest for a nice gift for Caroline, a doe he had his eye on. He wasn't going to piss his life away anymore! No no, not this Trent. He was going to turn everything around!

Adrenaline jolted through his body as the throught of starting a new life with this fancy female ran through his head. As the sun came up on the morning of the 24th, Trent set off, searching through the snow and ice for the perfect gift. Would she like a nice bowl of berries? No, she could get those anytime! Perhaps a masterfully crafted bed of twigs. Of course, she was a master crafter herself, so it would be tough to top the bed she already had. Ah-ha! A fake set of antlers so she can pretend to be a buck! Perfect! Trent ran through the woods quicker than ever before looking for a nice piece of wood from which he could craft such a gift. He spotted a nice branch and began to approach as he heard something coming from the other side. As he got closer he could hear the sound more clearly. It was like a sort of whimpering...a crying or moaning of some sort. Was the creature in trouble? Had it been hit by a hunter? Without hesitation, Trent jumped into action. As he jumped to the otherside of the tree he saw something which he hadn't expected. It was Caroline making the noise...but she wasn't hurt. Oh no, my friends, she was far from hurt. Caroline was being fucked...fucked by Karl, Trent's old college roomate. The weird thing about it was that Karl was a turtle, doing everything very slowly. Imagine Trent's shock when he saw a turtle having sex with his beloved Caroline, a full-sized deer.

Filled with a mixture of rage and despair, Trent sprinted back to his bed. He quickly picked up the Bud Light and began to drink like he never had before. In no time at all, Trent had depleted his entire stash of alcohol. He set off for the liquor store to replenish...but Trent never made it to the liquor store. Before crossing the road, Trent took a gander right...but, in his drunken state, he forgot to look left. He never knew what hit him as the white 1992 Ford Taurus sped by, decapitating the poor fucker and throwing his torso 20 yards to the right, landing him on a bed of ice.

Eighteen days later, Trent was being photographed for a Nubblies.net photojournal.

http://www.nubblies.net/images/roadk...4/P1110031.JPG
Trent rests in peace beside his last and only friend in this world.

http://www.nubblies.net/images/roadk...4/P1110032.JPG
This shot shows the impact with which Trent was struck. The decapitation is quite clean...although 18 days of rotting could make even the nastiest of cuts look clean the hunters suppose.

http://www.nubblies.net/images/roadk...4/P1110033.JPG
Trent's genitals are covered in dirt. It can only be assumed that he did this in a drunken rage to protest the mating of Karl and Caroline.

http://www.nubblies.net/images/roadk...4/P1110038.JPG
The hunters thought that Trent looked a bit sad in his current position...with no head and all...

http://www.nubblies.net/images/roadk...4/P1110039.JPG
...so they gave him a sip out of his old bottle. Surely Trent appreciated this gesture. You're welcome, old chap.

http://www.nubblies.net/images/roadk...4/P1110040.JPG
For some reason, Trent's asshole was packed with ice. The hunters didn't investigate this situation any further than taking a single picture. They're open to ideas about this.

http://www.nubblies.net/images/roadk...4/P1110043.JPG
And finally, the hunters snap a group picture with their new friend...before being chased off by a hillbilly in a truck who appeared to be interested in Trent's meat. I'm sure he'll taste great, sir...

[ January 29, 2004, 04:30 PM: Message edited by: Orgazmo ]

After dealing with the sad story that is Renny, the killers are brought back into reality when they stumble upon Conrad the Oppossum.

Conrad is a drifter. He managed to find his way into Winona Lake by getting caught in the catalytic converter of a 1984 Buick Regal. After the Regal stopped off at the bike trails in Winona Lake to dispose of a body, Conrad was able to shimmy his way out of the exhaust system of the mobile, and began to pillage Winona Lake.

Conrad lasted all of about four days in the town, before ironically, the same Buick Regal that brought him to Winona Lake, hit him while in a hurry to the local Dairy Queen to fetch a Hot Eat or a Cool Treat.

Conrad will not be missed by many. As the prime suspect in a few rape cases, he got what was coming to him.

http://www.nubblies.net/ubb/uploads/1075402281.JPG

http://www.nubblies.net/ubb/uploads/1075402314.JPG

Notice Conrad's Nubblies exposed:
http://www.nubblies.net/ubb/uploads/1075403221.JPG

To the untrained eye, it would almost appear as though Conrad is puking up his own intestines:
http://www.nubblies.net/ubb/uploads/1075402356.JPG

http://www.nubblies.net/ubb/uploads/1075402375.JPG

This concludes the 2003 Season for the Hunters. Onto the 2004 goods, with the aid of a better digital camera, the D560.

Continuing onwards after Jerome's discovery, the hunters entered Wabash, Indiana. After clearing a railroad and starting down a large hill, the two spotted something in the distance. What was originally pawned off as a semi tire was found to be something completely different...something more incredible than anything the hunters had seen before. What was so incredible? Geoffrey the Deer was so incredible. Named for his uncanny resemblance to the Toys'r'Us giraffe, Geoffrey was an unbeliebable find.

A warhero from vietnam, Geoffrey had devoted much of his life to patriotism. Unfortunately for him, a violent explosion during the war left him with very little eyesight. This coupled with his minor deafness, again, due to the war, made Geoffrey like a mini Helen Keller. Being as strong willed as they come, Geoffrey never let this get him down. He never let his disabilities stand in the way of him doing anything that he would do before. While this was normally a good thing, sometimes Geoffrey would push it too far. When his buddies would joke around with him about his shortcomings, he would oftentimes lose control and challenge them to fights. "If I can't see or hear, you won't have any trouble beating me in a fistfight, will you!" Geoffrey would exclaim. His friends never meant any harm past a bit of gentle fun-poking, but Geoffrey took it as more than simply that. One night, Geoffrey vowed to prove once and for all that he was just as keen as he had been before the war.

The next morning, Geoffrey woke up and decided to purchase a dirtbike. His plan was to use the bike to jump a large...obstacle. He didn't know exactly what he would jump yet, but it didn't matter. If he performed a daredevil maneuver on the bike, his friends would surely ease up on the jokes. Geoffrey drank a cup of coffee as he searched through the paper looking for good deals on bikes. He spotted his bitch and set out on foot to the dealership. Unfortunately, he forgot to turn his coffeepot off. Just as he left the house, the thing went crazy, sparking and spitting flames. A small explosion sounded, but poor Geoffrey couldn't hear it. He continued on his path, nothing could stop him from getting this bike...at least that's what he thought. As he went to cross the road, a firetruck, dispatched to tend to the fire at Geoffrey's house, plowed into Geoffrey. He was killed instantly. Though the sirens were blaring and the lights were strobing, Geoffrey wasn't any the wiser. The poor fuck never saw it coming.

http://www.nubblies.net/images/roadk...4/P1110048.JPG
The truck hit with such an impact that only his head, along with various attached pieces, remain.

http://www.nubblies.net/images/roadk...4/P1110049.JPG
Even in death, Geoffrey's determined look shines through.

http://www.nubblies.net/images/roadk...4/P1110050.JPG
A sideview of Geoffrey to show how large he really is. He's large.

http://www.nubblies.net/images/roadk...4/P1110051.JPG
The withered lip of a withered man.

http://www.nubblies.net/images/roadk...4/P1110052.JPG
The hunters really don't know the logistics of how Geoffrey is the way he is. If anyone wants to photoshop in some arrows to explain to everyone what is what in this picture, that would be wonderful. What exactly is attached to his head? It looks like he has a fucking leg coming out of his skull. The hunters certainly don't understand.

[ January 29, 2004, 11:21 PM: Message edited by: Orgazmo ]

After leaving Trent's side, the two roadkill enthusiasts continued on the trek south on 15. It wasn't too long before they encounted a small find. Near the driveway of an abandoned house, the body of Jerome the Raccoon rests. Jerome made people smile. He flat out made people smile. Often found in the background of conversations saying things like "Oh snap!" and "Daaaaamn," Jerome often found himself in the position of argument catalyst. He never really had a main role in life...but Jerome didn't seem to mind. His only real claim to fame was coming up with the phrase, "Damn bitch, you stupid fly," which is currently used globally by both negroes and wiggers alike. He won't be missed immediately...but a Jeromeless world will soon realize that he was worth more than he appeared. Inevitably, another raccoon will step up to fill Jerome's spot...but the chances that the replacement will be as quick with the side comments as the late Jerome as slim.

http://www.nubblies.net/images/roadk...4/P1110044.JPG
The picture doesn't do Jerome justice. It's just a shame that his candle burned out long before...his legend ever will...

http://www.nubblies.net/images/roadk...4/P1110047.JPG
In related news, it appears as if Jerome's corpse would make a nice cap. In the case that anyone is interested in pursuing this matter, more detailed directions to Jerome's tomb will be available upon request.
*(keychain thing included for size purposes)

Leaving the fallen soldier, Geoffrey, wasn't easy; however, the hunters had a schedule to keep up. Along with this, little did they know that they were about to cross paths with another absolute goldmine of a kill on adjoining road 218.

The next stop came next to the freshly slaughtered Patsy the Opossum. Originally thought to be a cat, Patsy's high-quality pictures clued the hunters in to her real identity. There's not much to say about a woman like Patsy. She was a very straitlaced mother of 2. Of course, raising children like this only leads to rebellion. Patsy's case was no exception. What had once been a household of iron-fisted rule had slowly turned into a dysfunctional family unit. Of course, it wasn't all Patsy's fault. Her mother was an alcoholic and more like a friend. She had three different kids from three different men. But that's just the way shit was, you could really change it...or rearrange it, so there it was. With the birth of her's, Patsy vowed to be a better mother than the woman from which she was birthed. Switching extremes isn't any better though, Patsy. You should have tried to find a happy medium. What were you thinking? You've simply molded your own daughter into a replica of your mother. Was that what you really wanted, Patsy? Was it? And now look. Look at where it got you. You're dead now. Do you realize your mistake? Oh, you do? Well it's a little late for that. You can't change anything now, Patsy. You've wasted your time, and now it has run out. You're finished, Patsy. You're finished.

http://www.nubblies.net/images/roadk...4/P1130035.JPG
Patsy lies in the middle of the road...dead. From this angle, she looks like she could either be a opossum (which she is), a cat (which she isn't), or, if you really squint, a rotweiller (if her two front legs were ears...and that spec of blood on her head was an eyebrow...come on, surely you see it).

http://www.nubblies.net/images/roadk...4/P1130031.JPG
This picture is symbolic of Patsy's situation. She tried to maintain control. She really did her best. She did what she thought was right...but, in the end, it exploded all to hell. Nice try, Patsy.

http://www.nubblies.net/images/roadk...4/P1130033.JPG
Here's something that used to be inside of her.

http://www.nubblies.net/images/roadk...4/P1130034.JPG
This, like the last piece of scrap, used to be inside of Patsy.

http://www.nubblies.net/images/roadk...4/P1130032.JPG
One last, more zoomed in picture of Patsy. You can clearly see how the vehicle inflicted the wound...rolling over her neck and what not. Probably pretty painlful. Similar to the childhood that she gave her kids.

On a sidenote, while looking at this picture, a hunter discovered that there are some faces hidden. Look at the following picture, then scroll back up to see if you can find them in their original from in the above picture.

http://www.nubblies.net/images/roadk...1.04/weird.jpg
1. Looks like a sideview of a serial killer.

2. Looks like saddam hussein's face superimposed on a lion.

All in all, these two hunts brought to the hunters great fortune (in a roadkilling sense). Perhaps the best session from a quality standpoint to date; however, the hunters are always looking to improve. Expect more from them in the future.

[ January 29, 2004, 04:36 PM: Message edited by: Orgazmo ]

A third face has been spotted.

http://www.nubblies.net/ubb/uploads/1075412317.JPG

I am very anticipatory of what is in store for the hunter's future.

-Ugly Bastard

Wow, great finds this time around.

Trent and Geoffery really should get together, you know, with one only having a head and the other only having a body.

I never did get to ride with you boys after winning the first contest, is the offer still good for the future?

That was by far the best piece of literature I've read in a long time. You really had it right with Patsy. I used to hang out with her when I was a kid... but her mom was so fucking scary, she hit on me all the time. And, regardless of how hot Patsy is, her mom is not. She was a scrawny piece of white-tailed possum trash.

Anyway, really great pictures too.
Now I'm hungry.

*you're welcome ;)

I'm putting this link in this post for two reasons:
1.) To bump this thread back to the top...because it's my favorite ever (I'm a little partial ;) )

2.) It belongs here.

Damn.

This is arguably as big a waste of time as my corn experiment. I heartily approve of this thread and all contributors of this most worthy cause. I'm off to find some roadkill.