So I write because I cannot walk. And I cannot walk because I have no legs. apparently. (**Looks down, shocked to find two lovely lady lum...err, well, past those, two lovely lady stumps and no shoes...becomes spontaneously aware of crippling denial)
So I write today to talk about a very special time of year. A time of reflection. A time of recollection. A time of opening up a can of whiplash?
I am always reminded of my mortality (and capacity for humor) for a moment in time I would like to call my annual Winter-Fall.
It happens every year it seems. Out of the blue I lose my suspension (not footing, for I have no feet) and wipe out on some sort of ice. Black and blue ice? Now, it's kinda funny. I mean, who doesn't laugh when they see somebody bite the dust, wipe out or as they say in Boston "DIGGER!!!"
So I'm on my way to band practice, just parked and walking toward the door to the practice space. It can be said that all practice spaces come fully equipped with precarious entries. Just in front of the door as I am reaching for my key, BLAMO. I open my eyes: sprawled out like a pancake. On the ground. Culprit: patch of ice...and my lack of eyes. 20/20 hindsight would be great if I had eyes on me ars but I was woefully born defficient. So: ice, slip, fall like a plank on cold hard ground. pause. don't pass out. pause. everything still attached? Remarkably even the LEGS. Curl up into a ball. don't pass out. pain. everywhere.
And yet, in that moment mid air, knowing I was going to be in a world of hurt shortly, I had one thought. I remember thinking, 'damn! I hope somebody at least gets a load of this!' Because while it hurt a lot at the time, even as my brain was busy taking inventory on all of my 2000 parts, it was still funny - at least to the onlookers if there were any. And you have to admit, any movie with a scene like the one I described always gets a laugh or two.
Physical comedy has its own place at the round table of funny. It might be under the table begging for scraps but it's still there.
So in hopes of making light of my heavy hit, I beseech you, heed the message of my tale and watch your tails this icy season.
Yours sorely,
Asian Cowgirl
I Translate Pamphlet Covers For You
6 years ago
9 comments:
HAHA! If you had clawed feet with caked on goat blood that wouldn't have happened.
Please don't be using my name in vain, Chupacabra in the Bushes. Thank you!
p.s.
I feel your pain, cowgirl. I'm guaranteed to have at least one bad winter fall every year...and I mean guaranteed. I kinda hope it's today, at least it would be behind me.
(There's a pun there about behinds...can't quite make it work.)
WHOA! Are you okay? Hope so! DAMN that hurts. And I always feel compelled to rise to my feet with a merry "Ha HA ha ha" to prove I'm all right.
Thanks ladies, and nicely done on the puns.
Yeah, I made a joke that at least I wasnt biting my tongue when I landed.
Cuz that would have been a world of suckitude.
Thanks for not being broken.
"Thanks for not being broken."
Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww...so romantic. Bacon, you ole softy.
p.s.
::taps foot and looks at watch impatiently::
Hey I'm romantic just ask NoOprah...no wait that came out wrong. I'm totally Iranian.
Just because I don't flaunt my romaticism around here on the internet for you people doesn't mean it doesn't exist. I stand by my statement; I AM thankful she's not broken.
Dear NoOprah:
Is it true Bacon Ace has a crush on you?
Curiously yours,
Cake
It must be so. I can't say that I blame him...in fact, that is who the following blog is about.
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