…. Years ago I leased a deer hunting spot in Crockett for 300$ a year

… an ol boy that lived down the dirt road was on it as well …he suggested I stay at his house rather than drive back home on the weekends

….he drank more beer than even me and was about 30 years my elder … he ran wide open… smoked 5 packs of cigs a day …. Drank from the time he got up until his wife and daughter would literally carry him into bed at midnight

… he killed a nice buck one night and while skinning it managed to run one of them black handle buck fixed blade knifes a couple inches into his stomach

…. He just looked at me and said “ oh sh** .. now all my beers’ gonna leak out”

… finished up and went inside… his wife sewed him up while he was replenishing the beer that leaked out lol

… next weekend he was still going but with a big bulge around the stitches and they looked like that were going to pop

… weekend after that it had gone down and dang near healed completely

… that’s just one of many stories about that hand

… ya’ll got any tough drunks stories to put in here?

I cut my finger once whilst drunkenly skinning a beaver.... but I think I survived. Does that count?

My dear old gramps was working on plumbing one winter, he liked to partake in beer drinking alot.....when i was vrowing up.he never had but a few teeth. I was about 12 or 13 watching him fight with a pipe and the pipewrench slipped and came back and knocked one of his few teeth out. Bleeding everywhere he was saying a few choice words, looked at me and said "well aint gonna beable to eat corn on the cob anymore" and went back to work. Grandma said years prior he reached back in his mouth with pliers and yanked a jaw tooth out like it was nothing. And even years prior to that ran a pitchfork through his foot out turtling. Got alotta stories about ol gramps.

My grandpa was like that … but he was a whiskey drinker on top of beer … he would do his own dental work

… he was a logger and ran a chainsaw deep into his leg one day … story goes he drove home and took a bath before going to the hospital as it was down to bone and needed a doctor to get fully stitched

… but he wouldn’t go into town unless he was clean and dressed nice … ruined a good pair of pants and stained up the bathtub because of that pride lol

You guys reminded me of something.
I had a buddy that recently passed away. He liked whiskey and beer a lot. He got a bum tooth but the dentist wouldn't pull it because he was on blood thinners. His solution was to buy a bottle of Jack Daniels and get a pair of needle nose vise grips and have me pull it. I was a proud little guy when I yanked that tooth out of his jaw. It's been 25 years, and I still have the tooth in a box.
Good old Jack Machacek. A tough bugger for sure.

I’ve got an uncle who was the stoutest man I’ve ever known.
Construction worker. Watched him carry 3 bundles of asphalt shingles a trip up a ladder for 4 hours one day. Tough as nails. He was quick on his feet and with his fists. Back in the day when the cops didn’t get called when a couple ole boys traded blows, he was known as a feller you didn’t try. They used to hire him to bounce at dances. He loved his beer and whiskey. Still does at 85 lol.
Only time I ever saw him brought to his knees was by a mallard duck. We shot into a big bunch and he was looking the other way and a big drake caught him in the side of the head and dropped him like a bad habit lol.
He’s a heckuva man. Taught me a lot about the outdoors.

My dad cut his knee with a power saw at work and the old Doc in Forks sewed it up without anesthetic. A guy watching fainted.

How old was he when he died?

I know when gramps built trailer houses for a living he did cut a finger or two off with a saw, he had to get em sewed back on. Then when i was a kid he use to paint houses, washed his brushes with gasoline, let his hands dry but not good and went to light a smoke, sever burns to his hands and forearms. Again had to go to the dr on that one. Uncles recall gramps helping them unload a car motor from the back of a truck, somewhere along the way it fell and got grampas big toe. Said he just walked inside and got a beer and sat down. He was one of the toughest people i have ever met.

Friend of mine, (dead now) liked motorcycles. Drank about a case of beer a day. Went to work every day. Took care of his family. One night some of his friends dared him to ride his motorcycle through a laundromat naked. Place was full. Two guys held two doors open for him. Bike handlebars wouldn't fit through the door. Cut his leg bad enough he near bled out. Broke some other bones. He went straight to the hospital. Ambulance crew covered him up with a blanket. Judge apparently didn't see the humor. Got some big fines. Did 90 days in the county jail as well.

Had a buddy, whose Mom's boyfriend, was pretty tough. He had a .22 slug lodged under the skin of his forehead, that every once in awhile he would try to have one of us dig it out with a pocket knife. We were NOT tough enough to do it.

We were driving him home from the bar one day, and he saw the car in front of us hit a deer. Had us pull over and check it out. The other car didn't want it , and was not badly damaged so he left.
Ol Ernie , looked in the trunk but his gun wasn't there, nor was his tire iron, or anything of use to dispatch the deer. It was still very much alive , but both front legs were not very useful anymore.

Finally , Ernie yanks off his belt and heads down the ditch, he looked like a WWE superstar as he launched himself off the side of the ditch onto that thing. Threw his belt around it and choked it out.
Now, I'd never seen this particular method before, or since , but I do NOT recommend. Lot of thrashing around, and I few times , I swear Ernie was trying to head butt the deer, but my buddy thought it was just the deer trying to escape.

He had us help drag it up to the car, and load it in the trunk. Took it back to my buddies place and cleaned it in the garage.
Later I told my buddy that I felt bad , because I had a pretty decent pocket knife that Ernie could have used, and He said , " Me , too, but after I saw Ernie choking that thing out, I didn't want to tell him, I was afraid I'd be next"

I cut a finger off sharping knife while skinning beaver. I was sober. If I had been drunk I most likely been ok

A cousin of mine was a tough s.o.b. Not a full time drunk, but he drank his share.
Vern was a sure enough heck raiser. The judge got tired of seeing him and told him it was time for jail or a stint in the army. Vern chose the army, found himself in Vietnam and had the time of his life. He did two tours and was mad as heck when the army wouldn't let him do a third. (A combat zone where the rules of society don't apply was a perfect place for him, and he knew it).
He never explained them other than to say he got shot, but he had 3 or 4 bullet wounds that I saw. Was missing part of an ear from a knife fight before the army. Several times when I was a kid I remember someone stopping by the house to tell dad "you better go fetch Vern. So and so made him mad and he's heading to the tavern with his shotgun to settle things". For some reason Vern would listen to dad but usually not anyone else.
One time another relative had a coon in a cage for some reason I can't remember. As I was standing there looking at it, Vern somehow got too close to the cage and the coon got a hold of his finger and just shredded it. Vern never said a word, just walked over to his truck, pulled out a bottle of whiskey and poured some on the finger. He then wrapped it up in an old dirty t shirt and went about his business like nothing ever happened. Vern was never quite right in the head.

Smashing a finger with a hammer, watching a blood blister form under the nail thats turning purple, running over and chucking up a tiny drill bit to drill through your nail to relieve the pressure right away is about the best story I can come up with right now and it doesn't seem to compare.

I heard some Millwrights telling stories once when I was running a job installing equipment... They talked about two guys going to a field to fight each other and they each brought a buddy. Those two were standing by one of the trucks while the other two fought. Well somebody said something wrong and the one guy standing by the truck reach down into the bed of the truck and picked up a big pipe wrench and back handed the other guy standing next to the truck right in the mouth with it. I still can't imagine taking a pro tennis back handed swing and smacking someone just standing there in the mouth with a pipe wrench. Good lord.

The ol boy that thought me to trap always told a story of Shorty Peterson and Big Dutch Harper.

Big Dutch walked into the bar all hopped up on whiskey. He yelled “I gotta take a crap, come on Shorty, I need something to wipe with.” Then he grabbed Shortys shoulder. Shorty, pretty drunk as well, jumped off the stool with his dukes up yelling “I’ve had enough of your mouth Dutch, let’s go!” Dutch took a swing and missed, the swing spun him all the way around to where he was dizzy and fell right on his butt, instantly crapping his pants. It was obvious to everyone. Shorty yelled “Mark this day down as the day Shorty Peterson knocked the crap out of Big Dutch Harper!!” The whole bar erupted in laughter whoops and hollers. Lmao

Apparently Dutch was a bit of a bully and a general pita cuz Shorty drank for free the rest of the night.

A guy walking home from the town bar saw me in my garage one evening. He stopped and said "can you pull a tooth for me?" I said sure, which one is it?, he opened his mouth and from what I saw they all needed pulled
I grabbed my pliers and he told me to make sure I washed my hands- no thought ever of sterilizing my rusty ole pliers..I grabbed a hold of the tooth tightly with one hand on my pliaers and hammer fisted down with the other and pop out comes a tooth. HERE it was the only good tooth he had and after another tooth I finally got the right one (they all needed pulled so no damage on my part). I warned him I been drinking my share al;l day also so no guarantees.
Im pretty sure he thought I wouldnt do it but I jumped right in.

When I was a little kid I used to spend time with my granddad in his workshop. One day I noticed he had a rag sticking out of his mouth. I went into their house and asked grandma why grandpa had this rag in his mouth? She said he had this nasty tooth ache, so he drank a bottle of muscatel and pulled the tooth with a pair of pliers.

Another time he was putting oak flooring in my dad's house. You had to drill the flooring before nailing it so you didn't crack the wood. He had been drinking too much muscatel prior and drilled a hole through his middle finger. My mother wanted him to go to the doctor. He just wrapped it tightly with gauze and said, "Women!"