The Real Story of IOMC, by a ex member….

Iron Order MC
Iron Order MC

A Story Of One IOMC:

The story of the real IOMC Members…… Anonymous contributor for fear of his life. 

Alot of people on here like to hate on the club Iron Order. They make fun of it and say that it is fake. I thought I would take a moment to tell about my time as an Iron Order Member. 

A couple years ago I decided I wanted to get into the club life so after approaching several people I found out that the baddest and the best club was the IO. I won’t bore you with the details but as time went on I became a prospect. Being a prospect was hard, it was hard to learn how to ride a motorcycle with shorts on, I also had a real hard time finding black converse all stars, in my size, in the mens section of shoe departments. Probably the hardest part of all was learning how to bend my cap bill up. For years I had worn my cap like a normal person and I always thought bending the bill up would be stupid. But as I looked myself over in the mirror in my leather cut with jean shorts on and my red converse all stars and hat bill flipped up I realized…I looked like one of the coolest mothers on the planet.

I will say this to all those people who have never been in the “club” life, it is extremely grueling and takes a toll on your body. We were riding our bikes 1 sometimes even 2 times per week for minutes at a time. I remember one week where I bet we put 20 miles on our bikes. Don’t ask us how we made it through that but I guess we are just tougher then you “wanna be bikers”.

We were at a rally when a member of one of the “big” clubs made fun of one members under bite and called another member sweet cheeks. Well after they dried their tears and took their naps we decided it was time to go to war the “big boys”. Later that night I went over to the members house to seek some revenge. I got out of the car (we don’t ride our bikes after dark) locked and loaded and ready to fire. I began to fire off rounds of toilet paper into the trees in that front yard. By the time I was done you couldn’t even see the house for all the toilet paper in the trees. To top it all off I went to the front door rang the doorbell and took off running. I can only imagine his face to answer the door and find out there was nobody there. As I was on my way back to the clubhouse (which was really a treehouse in the back of our Prez’s Moms yard) it hit me that I had just pulled off the most dangerous and violent act in the history of the club.
By the time I got back to the clubhouse (treehouse) the rest of the club was already on high alert. Our security around the clubhouse was no joke we had guard kittens and constantly filled water balloons and super soakers ready to soak any unwanted guest. The guard kittens were meowing ferociously and one of the club members didn’t immdeiately recognize me and almost threw a water baloon at me. As I went in to the clubhouse everyone was doing our club cheer they gave me my patches and showered me with what I thought was motor oil. I later found it was capri sun, grape juice, and appletinis. I had made it I WAS AN IRON ORDER.

Over the next few months life moved at breakneck speed. I was in constant trouble with the law (multiple parking violations, and was ssshhhed by a librarian on several occasions). We were in constant violent gang wars with rival clubs. The danger was just becoming too much I was burnt out on rolling peoples houses and egging peoples bikes. One night at a bar we got into a huge silly string fight with The Galloping Ponies and I got hit in the eye with some silly string and it itched for days I knew then I had to get out or I was going to wind up with something like a scraped knee or worse dead. I told the club I was done and turned in my cut. I knew it wouldn’t be that easy that i was going to be “beat out”. Little did I know that literally meant being beaten. I was scared they would kill me and they almost did. They held me down and hit me with pillows and tickled me until I peed my shorts. I thought my skin was going to rip because they were scrubbing my back really hard with water and soap to remove my temporary Iron Order tatoo. I was lucky to get out alive and since then I have never looked back.
So for all you wanna bees that hate on things you don’t understand you might wanna watch your mouth before you end up with a yard full of tp or a kick me sign on your back. If you got any questions about the club just ask I will give you a straight answer. but homies, do not say my club is fake I am living proof that it is real.