Yes, I do. And not exactly on purpose. I mean, WTF would anybody break on purpose? Can't think of anything at the moment. But, as a matter of fact, if there was even such a thing, I would find it, stand next to it and tell people, "Hey! Don't break that!" and then trip over something, knocking over something else, that eventually crashes into the thing that people break on purpose, breaking it on accident.
That's the way it works, its very difficult to quietly break shit on accident when you're like me. Nope when you're like me. If anything breaks around you, it's going to be equal parts embarrassing and intricate. You don't just trip over electrical chords. You fall over them, sending piles of electrical appliances plummeting to the earth, possibly ripping/staining an item of clothing in the process. And sadly, I know this very well because, you see, the thing is... I am a clumsy person. And although this seems to be getting increasingly popular these days (I'm serious, it seems like every bastard on 2 legs wants to claim my affliction lately. And all I'm trying to say is... "Its not cool you a-holes!!!" When you can accidentally turn a sno-cone into a car accident... And not be inside the Ford Taurus, well, then you would be more than capable of knowing my true pain. Otherwise, stop it. You clumsy posers make me sick.)
This is a real affliction people! Seriously, (mostly) growing up it hurt watching all you callous jerks laugh your asses off @ Steve Urkel as he went through his weekly social ostracization on my tv screen. Because inside (wait for it), while everyone laughed their Karl Kani and Fubu T-shirts off, I sat among them thinking "forgive them brother, they know not what they do"... Yikes, perhaps that analogy was a little to heavy handed (jeez man, I'm saying though, be easy with jc references... And of all the people to compare you choose Steve Urkel? SMH, sir - followed a by long belabored sigh) Now, (that I'm totally overusing parentheses) dear reader, you may say to urself, "self did Mr. Et Cetera really just make a christ analogy using a TGIF sitcom? And then argue about it with himself inthe third person..." Well... yes I did, actually, & hopefully you didn't really go through that much exposition contemplating it, and if you did, well consider yourself side-eyed. Weirdo.
Honestly though, I am deathly afraid of holding babies, glass objects and expensive electronics (in that order). There is honestly no thought more horrifying than someone having the totally irresponsible, brazen audacity to put one of those fragile little crumbsnatchers into my awaiting left and right arms, better known to most as death and destruction (ok, maybe not most... Ok, ok maybe only I call them that, but trust me - it's gonna catch on, possibly).
And why do babies have to be so damn small and fragile? You know baby giraffes damn near take off running after sliding outta big mama giraffes? You know what human babies do? That was a trick question, babies don't do anything. Not anything I wanna see anyway. And now you want me to hold that little vomit grenade? No thanks, I'll be late for that. Why would someone do that to me? Because people are jerks that's why. No consideration.
Two things. When I was a kid I played little league baseball. And do you know what position I played? Of course you don't because I'm about to tell u right now. I played right field. Right field, or as my coach so cleverly named it, "go stand over there". Why was I over there? Because I couldn't catch a Effin' thing. Literally. Flying thing, falling thing, no things were getting caught, none of them. And thankfully, because I was in right field, (and because most 3rd graders have the unholy strength of a small kitten) most hits never really got any further than 1st base. So, consequently, I came to develop this odd understanding that playing outfield wasn't really done right until I had found at least 1 four-leaf clover. And of course it had to be done while singing, my then always inspirational, and somehow, seemingly endless library of cartoon theme songs. (You'd be surprised how much time can pass singing a personal, symphony-concerto rendition of Darkwing Duck) and then it happened (cue ominous music) I'll never forget it, one bright cloudless hot-ass Saturday morning, after we somehow managed to get the opposing team "out" three times, we were going into the dugout to get ready to bat. I tripped going into the dugout, falling forward (and down) onto all my teammates. Desperately trying to recapture my balance, I let go of (kinda threw) my bat and helmet to better catch myself. Before I knew what was happening, my helmet is flying through the air while my bat rolls off in front of me, nowhere to be seen. The helmet tragically hits my coach in square in the face, splitting his lip and busting his nose wide open (yea, definitely more like a throw). The hit knocks him into my next coach who tears his ACL slipping on my now easy to see rolling bat (which was crazy, I mean first of all, it would be years before I even knew what the hell an ACL was, and also what?!! Yes that really happened, and needless to say, after that, I definitely wasn't a favorite with the coaching circle anymore - sorry coach. Not like ever was anyway).
Did I do that?
And besides, really though... he really was not that good of a guy (actually, now that I think of it, Eff you coach McKullum). He was definitely a dick, I remember he used to tell us in practice, "if u boys ever wanna win anything in life, you have to work harder than a Mexican! Especially you Mexicans!" (Side note: Dear "The Great American Pass-Time" thanks for all the memories!) And Yes, in case u were wondering, we did have Mexican kids on our team (shout out to the homey Victor!!!). So yes, its a hard life when your clumsy. Apparently, you are doomed to suck at little league baseball, cripple old men, and injure small babies (not that I did, the babies part I mean, of course I didn't. Why? What have u heard?). Still, it's not that bad though, and after a while you kinda get used to your uncanny powers. I just wish there was someway to use them for good.
Anyhow, thanks for reading. Sorry about being away so long, I had to go close up an oil spill in the gulf... Perhaps you've heard of it? Anyhow, any other clumsy veterans out there? Its ok to raise your hand, your among friends. Also, one last thing before I go, I do not think I'm Big Meech, just in case you were wondering.P.S. "Closing up a spill in the gulf" is code for "Drinking copious amounts of hard liquor while swearing to put up a post in the morning - for two weeks" (Larry Hoover).
Also, it was only one thing... made ya' look!
Wassup, dope fiends!
I want everyone reading this blog to feel comfortable and included, which is why I'm gonna talk to you today about Jesus... Na. I'm just joking. But what I am gonna talk about may possibly make some of you feel uncomfortable. So consider this your disclaimer...
"Troo, what is this topic of which you speak?"
I'm glad you asked. The topic of the day revolves around death... Still there? Good.
The worse part about being away from home is that you leave people behind. You don't necessarily forget them, but you go on to start your own life and acquire your own problems. As well, the people back home continue to live out their natural lives; which unfortunately means that a few of them will die. Actually, they all will. And so will all of us. Death is a natural part of life, and completely inevitable... You still there? Good. Uncomfortable yet? Sorry.
Last week, someone whom I knew in my youth had their young life taken from them by a stray bullet. And it was only last month that a dear family member lost their battle with cancer. Both occurrences were very sad. As well, they both made me very angry. But naturally, I couldn't help but to turn the situation onto myself... I began to think about my own mortality.
"Don't think like that, Troo. You ain't gonna die."
Shut your dumb ass up. Yes, I am. Those days of thinking that I'm invincible/untouchable/immortal are over! Hell, anytime I take a painful dump, I pray that this isn't the end. "Not like this. Not like this." (Who peeped that Matrix reference? lol) Which brings me to my next point...
The thing that sucks most about death is that you don't know when, where or how it will occur. (Although, would you really want to know?) I've come to terms with the fact that one day we all have to go. But what I can't stand, and refuse to accept, is that the dumbest of things can take me out. For instance, I was drinking some water the other day and it went down the wrong pipe. (Scary!) I nearly drowned in dry clothes. What the fuck? How would that have looked? My ass laid out in the living room dead from a bottle of Poland Springs. (Have you seen that show "10,000 ways to die"? It can happen!)
Even more stressful than thinking about how you can die, is when and where. If I must go, I pray its not in a public restroom stall. One, that's embarrassing. And two, no one would realize I'm dead. They'd just think that I'm going to the bathroom. That's probably my biggest fear - dying and people not knowing/not knowing what happened to me.
So I've mentioned how I don't wanna go. You're probably wondering how I would like to go...
Most guys would say, "I wanna die during sex." Ill! That's disgusting. Ladies, you don't have to worry about me wanting to die during. No, ma'am... I wanna die right after. It's stupid to die during. I wanna finish up. One last shot before I go. Ideally, it would be with my wife. I'd drift off to sleep, and go with a smile on my face. I originally thought about dying while spooning after sex, but I fear that it would be traumatizing for my wife to have a corpse holding onto her when she woke up in the morning...
You still there? Well, you don't have to be. I'm done. But feel free to answer at least one of these questions:
- Have you seen "10,000 ways to die"? If so, what's the worse you've seen?
- Is there a such thing as a "cool" way to die?
RIP S.M., S.D.
Did I do that?
