Ok…gotta hear this one…
I thought Turkish Delights were supposed to be like Aplets & Cotlets.
Guess not.
Okay, I’ll try to keep this short…
First, I’ll have to second “mixing beer and tequila” and “ski slopes”.
convenience store jobs
bartenders
giving birth
Tae Bo
boys named Josh
ace bandages
watches
spyware (who has a good experience with spyware though, really?)
jawbreakers
fleece sweaters
sea foam green colored pencils
and lastly, my hand, particularily my right hand, doing things that I’m not really comfortable with.
Well, I’d say the guy who starts [thread=259463]this[/thread] doesn’t have terrible luck over everything.
the vendors?
I want to hear about Hal Briston’s tale of woe with Harry Blackstone. Did he make something of yours disappear, like your wallet?
Silver Fire, I second the 'Boys named Josh"
**
Hardball near windows.
Where are the wheels that used to be on my car?
Why is my car’s side window broken?
That guy’s skinny, he can’t be very tough.
What happens if you touch a spark plug when the engine is running?
I wonder if this exhaust pipe is hot?
I bet I can swim down and touch the bottom.
Sure, we can jump off the roof, there’s snow on the ground.
Four aces can’t be beat, keep raising.
**
Ok, it’s like this…
Last Thursday my dad was admitted to the hospital. He has cellulitis and a sinus infection (he’s doing ok but they’re going to operate on his sinuses in a few weeks) and was expected to be in the hospital until Tuesday - they worry it might have been from a bug bite since he’s the 8th person they’ve seen with their not-to-common deep tissue/bone infection so far in 2004. But!! On Friday afternoon he was doing so well that they planned to spring him from the Hospital on Saturday morning.
This was good, but it meant that the usual weekend clean up had to happen Friday night since the visiting nurse would be there at 2pm the next day. No problem, right?
Since I was washing the bathroom floor, I took the hamper and stuck it in the laundry room, and moved the heavy old-fashioned scale (not one of those pansy flat ones half made of plastic. No sir, this one is good old-fashioned steel) into the hallway. I washed the floor right before I went to bed, so I left it in the hall so the floor could dry.
The next morning I played taxi driver to get Dad. And it took forever for them to release him. We barely made it home before the visiting nurse arrived.
I don’t like shoes.
And I forgot about the scale being in the windowless hallway. I did need something in my room, though.
step
step
step
THUMP
“Dammit!”
Yeah, so I’ve broken a bone for the first time in my life, because I swung my foot into a scale I forgot was in the hallway. Luckily broken little toes heal ok (so I was told). I suppose it’s fortunate that it had toes on both sides to help cushion the blow. My self-image as a supposedly intelligent person hurts more than the toe, so things could be a lot worse. :o
No, what he did was give my nine-year-old ass a pretty good beatdown.
Harry Blackstone
Some Broadway Theater, NYC, circa roughly 1977 or so.
Many, many years ago, a small magic shop opened in town. The Magic Wand was its name, and it happened to open two blocks from my home.
I’d occasionally peek in there on my way back from Betty’s Candy Store, and as time went on I’d find my visits becoming longer and longer. The people who worked there were fascinating, making things appear, juggling balls of fire, doing amazing card tricks. After awhile, I was hooked.
I started doing my homework on the school bus (if at all) so I could get to the magic shop right after school, and spend my entire day there. I became very well versed in card manipulation, and was starting to get pretty handy with some of the bigger illusions. All this, while still having a single-digit age, mind you.
After a few years, the store formed an official Magic Club. Specialized trainings and such. Special events as well. Like a trip to New York to go to Tannen’s Magic Shop (the Mecca for magicians), and to see Harry Blackstone perform on Broadway. And to meet him after the show! :eek: Now this was a big honkin’ deal. Blackstone was the magician of the time. And I was going to meet the master. Yeah, I was psyched.
So, we go to New York, we go to Tannen’s, and we see Blackstone’s show. Afterward, our group is hustled out a side exit to an alleyway near the performer’s exit, where we’re supposed to meet the man himself.
After a short wait, he appears. I was awestruck. He was quite friendly, chatting with us and autographing our Playbills. And the whole time he’s doing this, he’s got a cane tucked under his arm.
Now, members of our magic club were not the only ones there. There were a few others who came by the stage door to get an autograph, one of which was a very young girl. I don’t remember if she was there with her parents. I don’t remember if she had supervision of any kind. All I remember is that she was pissing Harry Blackstone off severely. He was trying to sign autographs, and she was jumping up and grabbing his arm. She did it once, he said “Excuse me”. She did it again, he said “Please don’t do that”. She did it a third time, he yelled “That will be enough of that, young lady”!
But he didn’t just yell. As he was saying that, he also whirled to face her. With the aforementioned cane still under his arm. I was standing on the opposite side of him as this little girl. Cane, meet young Hal’s face.
Yes, as he turned, the ornate metal handgrip of his cane bashed me right in the nose. My hands went up, and as I was instinctively going to protect my nose, I wound up grabbing the cane. Blackstone, thinking that some miscreant was trying to make off with his cane, turned and grabbed it back, and somehow in the confusion wound up walloping me in the gut with it.
So there I was, crumpled in a heap, nose bloodied, with a manic-looking Harry Blackstone looming over me. Where was the paparazzi (and overzealous personal injury lawyers) then? 
He realized his mistake and apologized profusely, even giving my an official “HB” monogrammed handkerchief to staunch the bleeding. Still, it was not the most fun way to meet someone you idolized. 