I have arrived as ungracefully as possible
into middle age- though based on my ancestry I’m facedown naked on the street luge to hell- most of my ancesters were gone by this age.
I won’t walk softly into that sweet night, though, Lord knows. Yesterday I assisted two gentlemen in placing a deer blind weighing about 600 lbs onto a stand about 7′ up, and since the other two were operating the machinery and supervising, I did most of the grunt work, such as laying on a forklift tong in midair pushing the shed off onto its raised platform. By the time I arrived home last night i was hammered pretty flat, and this morning there are aches and pains in places I didn’t know I had. I mean, who knew your skin could ache?
Anyway, I guess I still have a lot of stupid and potentially dangerous things left to do in my life. I am just glad nobody died; anyone watching could easily have predicted that outcome and they would have had damned good odds in their favor.
Does your family tree have southern roots?
Is your middle name “Bubba”?
As someone who has been in proximity to and sometimes in the direct line of fire of the kinds of things people can do to one another and themselves I so get where you’re from, my brother.
But unless and until you find yourself saying stuff like “hold my beer while I do THIS” you should be okay.
http://www.wsbtv.com/news/news/local/lawyer-man-accused-driving-girlfriend-hood-guilty-/nSNf6/
There is — as of yet — no law against being stupid in Georgia. If there wuz, we’d all be guilty.
Jenny
I am continually amazed that I am still alive at 52, considering some of the stupid ass shit I’ve pulled in my life.
During the week, I work in an auto repair facility. On the weekend I sell produce at a farmers market. Every saturday I cook something with whatever new vegetable I am bringing that week. I set it at the market masters tent and they eat like little pigs and give away samples.
I was making the sample and in an act of stupidity I tried to catch a falling sweet potato I was peeling and exposed a large portion of my thumb to the outside of its wrapper.
I took the days sample to the two market masters with a tampon firmly bound with electrical tape to my thumb.
One grabbed my hand and rolled the palm up, looked horrified, and asked what I did. The other pointed to my kielbasa sized pinkie and the blood blisters down my palm and asked the same question.
Cut my thumb with a knife and slipped with an air hammer at work.
Both looked very concerned and asked ” are you going to be ok?” “Not my masturbating hand so I should be alright” I replied.
By the looks on their faces I would say they never learned how men prioritize things.
Roger