I fear you. Back, back, I say!
Aw man… 
Well, it’s not for a lack of “interested parties” that I’m unattached at the moment Who could resist a cute curly-haired red-head like me!
The good news is, Dantheman, I’m not contagious. Like that old doctor said, “It’s not me, it’s her, honest!” will be the most common line in my future hubby’s vocabulary.
And I’ll never be the one to deny my Klutzdom. It makes me proooooud
E.
Oh sure! But he’s gotta really, really, really, really love ya! As was said before, if you fall down and break your crown, the ER people miiiiiiiiiiight call the cops, who might call a social worker, who might call the press, who might call you up and say, “HEY! How long’s he been doing this to you? Are you pressing charges?” And you’ll say, “No way, I tripped and fell on the cast-iron table!” And THEY’LL say, “Ya right! She’s in denial! Someone help this battered woman! She’s been hit so often that she’s covering up for him!” And then they’ll arrest your love, and he’ll rot in some Podunk jail where the rats are bigger than Volkswagens and there are cute little urchins who will do anything for a nickel or some fine pocket lint.
See, that’s how it allllllllllll begins! So pardon me if I don’t want to go to jail. I like it here, clean (cough) air, sometimes enoguh food to eat… Hm, on second thought… Wanna get hitched? I could use the three square meals!
Well 
to you, dantheman!
Actually I seem to scare some guys away because of my sick and twisted sense of humour… not because of my numerous head injuries…
Oh yeah, that and I’m of irish background, and still speak the mother tongue… and can swear up and down when I’m in a bad mood.
Then again, just gimme a guiness and I’m fine.
Sure, let’s get hitched. I can cook. Very well, in fact.
E.
-
Sick and twisted sense of humor is good. As long as I’m not the object of the mirth.
-
I’m Irish, too. Brogue me, baby!
-
I can’t cook.
This miiiiiiiiight work.
:::taking notes:::
Could work, could work…
Ok, as soon as the egg subsides, I will take the time to grill you, dantheman… right now, I’m due for two tylenols with codeine and some sleep. FINALLY I get to sleep a full night!
Yay!
Elly.
I feel a poem coming on…
Ellenfair Ellenfair,
Attacked by a chair.
Now she’s got a big lump,
And everyone stares.
T’was the dog that did it,
Bringing toys on the deck.
Fair Ellen picked up,
And ended up wrecked.
Let’s hope that she mends,
That the skull fracture heals.
She had better look out,
For any banana peels.
She says she’s a clutz,
I believe this is true.
She had better be careful,
Or she’ll be black and blue.
I don’t know what came over me. I once got six stitches and a concussion from a similar attack by a piece of stationary furniture. Maybe it did affect me enough to write bad poetry.
I hope you’re feeling better soon.
Aw Feynn, you just made my day.
I dub thee official court poet of my kingdom.
Elenfair
Ellen,
If you ever make it to this side of the Atlantic, I will ensure to escort you around. I will even supply you with an open faced Motor Cycle helmet for your own protection.
And I think the word to describe you in the mother tounge is Ludramán
I hope you are feeling better this morning.
And thanks for the dubbing.
Aw TwistOfFate go raibh mile maith agat. I’m often in the homeland, visiting relatives and friends… We’ll share a guinness next time I’m there… and thanks for the helmet offer, it will no doubt be useful…
Feynn, I’m doing much better, thank you, oh great court poet.
My eye was bleeding last night (NOT a fun thing) but now the pressure is mostly gone. What a relief!
UPDATE!
My brain is recovering! Yay! The bad news is, I’ve managed to be attacked by the table tonight. It’s a conspiracy between the table and the interlock bricks. One of the interlock bricks rose up just a tad to trip me tonight. I banged my chin on the table, and now have a nice egg growing there.
I guess I’m more balanced now.
I’m going for a Brian Mulroney look.
Yeesh.
Elly
:eek:
RUN, DANTHEMAN,RUN!!![sub]… To Serve Man …[/sub]
Yes, it’s that old trick whereupon one leans over and the second pushes you over him.
You have some sneaky belongings, you know that? My advice: seek an exorcist.
Try Zelda Rubenstein…
I’ve tried exorcism.
I’ve tried vaudou (voodoo)
I’ve tried incantations
I’ve tried magic potions involving lizard parts
I’ve tried the standard hocus-pocus
… to no avail.
I think I just need to learn to look where I’m walkin’, and to be a bit more aware of my surroundings…
Someday, I will learn. Honest. I go through these phases… Now I should be ok for a month or so.
Wheeeeee!
:::uploading brownies to dantheman::::: Let the grilling begin…
Eh eh eh…
Elly.
Grilled brownies?!?!?!?!?
<runs>
Muhahahahhaaaa…
Run, boy, RUN!
You can RUN but you can’t HIDE!
:::grabs the pan of non-grilled brownies, who were triple chocolate, by the way::::::
Nyah. So there. I’m gonna eat them all by myself. pout
E.
which, not who.
sigh preview is my friend. preview is my friend…
SPIRIT OF ELENFAIR, GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!!!
I’m serious. Your misadventures have invaded my personal space…I am finally awake after spending 6 hours at the emergency room with (former)Roommate.
Last night we were going to dinner (still good friends). As he was walking out of the bathroom, he tripped on the bathroom scale, of all things [it was no where near the door, btw], and pitched head first into the corner of the hall wall. Also got a bitty boo-boo on his foot, but worse, twisted his knee which, btw, he just finished paying off the $7,000 worth of surgery done to it last year. Blood on the wall, the floor, and most of his face, and a large knot now forming over his left eye.
Being the still-stubborn (former)Roommate he is, he refused to go to the hospital, despite my best pleadings, cajolings, threats, etc (I know a head injury is nothing to mess with, not to mention the probably need for stitches - my hallway looked like the aftermath of the offstage fights in “MacBeth”). We cleaned him, as well as the wall and the floor, up and went to dinner. Halfway through dinner, he’s looking kind of woozy and finally agreed, yeah, I better get this looked at.
We ended up at Florida Hospital in Celebration (just outside Disney). We managed to get there at a ‘quiet’ time, and got him into the emergency room before the three car accidents, heart attack and AirCare arrived later (not to mention all the normal minor injuries normally seen at emergency rooms). The plus to the evening was:
[li] no broken bones[/li][li] CAT scan shows there is usable gray matter up there[/li][li] he got a shot of Demoral (or something like that).[/li][li] they have cable TV in each of the treatment rooms, for real! CSPAN, Travel Channel, HSN, all on a little swing-arm mounted tv set. That, of course, will reflect in the bill, but at least it kept us occupied while waiting.[/li]
He is now snoozing on the couch, and I am off to pick up his prescription.
Please let me know if you are stopping by for a visit. I will put all my furniture in storage and redecorate with gym mats for carpeting and wallpaper.
[singing]
Elenfair, Elenfair,
Don’t look now, she’s ev’rywhere
[/singing]
Yaysss… I am eve-ill…
I’m sorry to hear my spirit has been out there tripping people again. I thought we’d reached an agreement on this matter… this being said, I’m told my condition isn’t contagious, but disaster often seems to follow me around when I’m in one of those “accident phases.”
So, friendly people, lock your doors. Baaarrrrrrr your windows. Switch off the lights… Pad all your furniture… and sit very, very still (but not under a ceiling light, because it could fall on your head) until this phase passes.
I’ll let you all know.
Elly
p.s.: screech-owl, sorry to hear about the (former) Roommate’s bonk on the head. I can feel his pain. Honest. If he and I were to walk down the street today, we could pass for twins! Yeah!