alberto wrote:
Whoa, just now did I see that,
P.S. Why did You give up(or whatever happened) being an admin IJ?
Well, it's kind of a long story...
You see, one day in January I made a comment about Joey Day's polo shirt that he unfortunately took as an insult. Though I insisted that my remark was only in jest, he challenged me to a duel, and as a gentleman I had to accept. As I am a crack shot I chose pistols, but what I failed to realize is that my draw is a bit rusty. Joey easily beat me, but his eye isn't as good as mine and I only took a shot in the shoulder. Nice chap that he is, Joey drove me to the hospital in his Subaru. So as to preserve Mr. Day's dignity (and my own) I explained to the ER nurse that I had been hunting with the Vice President.
While on the mend I shared a room with an elderly Inuit woman name Noayak who primarily watched Wheel of Fortune, but when she wasn't doing so she shared with me some things she had learned in during her long life upon the tundra. Among the things she taught me--most of which, I admit, had to do with arctic fish and sea lions--was the importance of family. Once I had healed enough to travel I immediately boarded a train for my home town which I had not seen for 40 long years. There I communed with the spirits of my ancestors and met the children of the great aunts and uncles who had settled there. They took me in and taught me the ancient language of the swallow, which isn't entirely pleasant but made certain aspects of my situation there, namely ordering dinner from the sacred swallow-tongued pizza-makers, more convenient.
Eventually, though, I yearned for my own home, and after bidding farewell to my newfound family I boarded a coach. The first day of travel was dull, but on the second day the coach was crossing a high bridge when it was suddenly buffeted by an enormous gust. The horses broke free and the coach crashed through the bridge's rotted wooden rail, plummeting hundreds of feet into the stony gorge below. By some freak chance, though, I was thrown from the coach and my overcoat was caught on a splinter of wood no larger than a child's forearm that protruded like a splintery finger from the bridge's shattered rail. Once I ceased shaking from fright I carefully grasped a firmer-looking board and hoisted myself back upon the bridge. There was no one in sight and the horses had long since galloped past the horizon, so I started walking.
Some hours later a circus caravan, which had apparently had no mishaps upon the bridge, approached from the direction I had come. An entertainer by the name of Gerald cheerily informed me that they were in fact due to arrive in my own village in two days time and offered me conveyance. I graciously accepted, and during the journey I was tought, despite my protests, how to juggle four anxious kittens and an overripe cantaloupe, blindfolded. I was so cheered by the sight of my home that I bought Gerald and his entire troupe many ales at the tavern down the road from my dwelling.
As the sun set, I reflected wistfully upon my adventures and new acquaintances and pledged to myself that I would never forget the things I had seen nor the people I had met.
Oh, and I'm just taking a break from being an admin so I can kick back and relax a bit.
_________________
StrongCanada wrote:
Jordan, you are THE SUCK at kissing! YAY! Just thought you should know! Rainbows! Sunshine!
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Heh, that's a relief. I wonder where my friend heard that from; for some reason I thought he heard it from his doctor, but probably not.
