I’ve never broken a bone. Knock on wood. I’ve never had an official nosebleed. Knock on wood. Outside of a torn ligament in my finger and some bruises, I’ve never really been injured. Knock on wood. I’m not a klutz. Knock on wood.
Alright, time out.
Why do I feel like some of you stopped knocking on wood after the first time I said it? I don’t appreciate that. My livelihood is at stake. So knock on wood. I don’t care if you have to go to your neighbour’s backyard and knock on their wooden deck to do it. In fact, I endorse doing just that.
Thank you for your cooperation.
Before I go on, I might of had a minor nosebleed a couple years ago, but I still don’t want to classify it as an official one because I don’t know what an official nosebleed feels like.
The torn ligament was an injury I got in Grade 6 gym class while rebounding a basketball. It bent a couple of fingers back. I don’t even remember what hand it was.
But I remember asking my teacher if I could go get ice from the office. They gave me one ice cube in a plastic bag. Magically, water appeared in the bag 10 minutes later and the ice cube was gone. Poof!
Ah, those were the days. Survival of the fittest. Nowadays, they’d probably send the kid home after trying to kiss it better for half an hour.
The next morning, my mom took me to the hospital because two of my fingers were green and purple; I hadn’t been finger painting.
This was during the SARS epidemic so we had to put on gowns, face masks, and gloves, and sit there for 3 hours staring at a picture that said “Saskatoon” on it.
That sign was the only thing that kept us sane. We still mention it.
As for bruises, the main one that comes to mind was when I was a kid playing softball. I normally had good reflexes, but one time when I was pitching, the batter hit a line drive right back at me and got me right in the shin. That hurt, a lot. I stayed in the game, but I remember trying to run after the ball after it hit me and my right leg collapsed.
A player on the other team yelled, “You killed their pitcher!”
Inside scoop: you never forget the moment you die. At least I haven’t!
Oh, and there was that one time on my first ever day of school when I tripped over a hula-hoop.
Oh, and that time I chipped a tooth when I was a kid. But who didn’t do that?
Alright, there’s my medical history. Can I have a prescription for banana medicine now?
Last night, more specifically, Tuesday morning at 1AM, I went in the kitchen to throw a water bottle in the recycling bin. But I leaned over to place it in the bin because if you just drop it in, it’ll rattle around and make enough noise to wake up the whole house, street, and continent.
I’m not exaggerating.
It was a forward lean, which means to straighten up, I had to swing my upper body backwards.
This post just turned into a yoga tutorial. Don’t worry, “Downward Hog” is coming up soon. It’s where we all lay on our stomachs for 6 hours and do nothing.
Well, when I went to straighten up, I banged my head on the corner of the cabinets above me.
Oh my holy socks, I felt so betrayed. I felt like I had just been shoved into a mud puddle by a friend.
Initially, I felt woozy. I leaned over on the kitchen table and grabbed my head with both my hands and wondered why no one had created the technology to rewind life, like we could rewind videos on YouTube.
Then I went to the washroom and flipped my hair up to see the damage.
Alright, follow along gang.
Take your left index finger. Place it on your left eyebrow. Now move your finger straight up your face until it’s on top of your head – the front part. If you went all the way to the middle of your head, you went too far. Come back down the mountain a bit.
Now put your left foot in. Take your left foot out. Put your left foot in and shake it all about.
And that’s where my one inch scar is. It’s on a slant, so in a way I’m basically Harry Potter.
Fantastic.
Hey, I did make that ice cube turn into water back in Grade 6. I guess the magic was in me all along.
Tomorrow I practise running into walls in hopes that they take me through to a secret platform of a train station!
I was bleeding, but it wasn’t some old-school wrestling bleeding. It wasn’t pouring down my head. I figured a wet paper towel would work, but oh wait, there wasn’t any left because I forgot to mention, I was also throwing a paper towel roll into the recycling bin at the time of my cabinet collision.
It’s amazing how all the pieces to this puzzle went together and yet a piece of my head was missing.
So I settled for Kleenex and just held it on my head. I was looking in the mirror while I was doing this so I can confirm that I looked like a lunatic. It looked like I was trying to press down on the top of a really tall sandwich.
Hi, I’m Paul, the sandwich.
The blood wasn’t stopping. It wasn’t a lot of blood, but just enough to keep appearing on every new Kleenex I introduced to it.
Wait, is that what a nosebleed feels like? I’d say my lightbulb just went off, but it burnt out.
So then I start wetting my hair and the area of the cut.
It burned like a disco inferno.
So now I have a cut on my head and wet hair. I should’ve started a Punk Rock band named Ruthless ‘n Toothless and called it a night. But I didn’t.
I was starting to wonder if I needed to go to the hospital to get stitches or a staple. I wouldn’t want a staple, though. I’m more of a paper clip kinda guy. It’s just easier and you don’t have to put holes in anything.
Eventually, there were only small dots of blood showing on the Kleenex so I headed upstairs to sleep because I couldn’t tell if I was about to pass out, or if I was sweating because I was holding my arms up for so long.
You try holding your arms up and pressing your head for about 25 minutes. You’ll get tired.
That yoga position is called the “Hell Raiser”. You raise your arms, heat comes out.
Then I inevitably got paranoid and started asking myself a million questions because why not?
Do I have a concussion? Why didn’t anyone take me to a quiet room for fifteen minutes like they do with players in the NHL?
Where is my ice cube in a plastic bag?
Why am I allowed to walk into a kitchen without a helmet on?
Why couldn’t I be 5 foot 4?
Why don’t we have one of those clearance signs in the kitchen, like they have on the highway for trucks under bridges?
Am I going to bleed out during the night? If I sleep on the left side of my face, will that put too much pressure on my head?
What if I sleep on the right side of my face and all the blood rushes to my right ear?
What if I wrapped toilet paper around my head like they do for injured kids in movies?
Why does it feel like my head hurts?
Oh yeah, I just hit it.
And in between all those questions, I’d grab a Kleenex, wipe my head, and try to see if blood appeared by holding the Kleenex up to my digital clock.
The four times I did that, my clock didn’t provide enough light so I had to get up and turn on my overhead light. What a chore.
There was no blood. It was all in my head.
HA!
I woke up today and shared the story with my family. Most of them found it funny and asked for a re-enactment.
By the way, I re-enacted it about 20 minutes after it happened. I had to make sure that when I told the story the next day, it made sense. I also wanted to see if I left any flesh on the corner of the demonic cabinet.
As of now, I think I’m okay, though my head definitely feels like something’s happened to it. Again, that could just be paranoia.
I’m a tad disappointed the scar is hidden under my hair and I can’t make up a story like: I got into a jousting match with a squirrel and when we both got on our horses and charged each other, I ran into a low hanging tree branch.
You know, cool battle stories like that.
I hope this is a one-off incident and it’s not signalling the start of an era where I get hurt often. That would be awful.
I still pull bandages off slowly. I’m not ready for anything bigger than a paper cut.
If you have cabinets in your kitchen, I ask that you boycott them to show your solidarity with me. We can’t let them win. We can’t let them attack us with their sharp corners.
These cheap shots while we’re trying to stand up straight after quietly placing items into a recycling bin, need to stop.
The official hashtag will be #StopThatCab. There is no way this hashtag will be misconstrued for anything else.
Thank you.
By the way, if you went to knock on the wood of your neighbour’s deck, and they caught you looking in the window, that’s on you. All I said to do was knock on wood.
Goodnight. Downward Hog.
What injuries have you sustained in your own home? Have you boycotted any furniture? Are you a klutz*, or a klutz deluxe**?
*Klutz: Your klutzy moments happen intermittently.
**Klutz Deluxe: Your klutzy moments happen often.
I’m sorry, I laughed…quite loudly! I’m glad you survived the ordeal though! I can’t say I’ve experienced cabinets abusing me in such a way (being 4ft11!?) they usually just hang around way too high so I can’t get a glass without building an obstacle course, thankfully, I haven’t had any klutz moments at home – I usually save those for when I’m in public! Good Luck finding the platform… maybe wear a crash helmet!! 🙂
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Ahhhh I wish I was your height, if only for 3 seconds. Would’ve avoided this whole thing completely. Haha I’m sure you’ve given a bunch of strangers a lot to laugh at. Public accidents are always funny unless they happen to you. And thanks for the tip, a crash helmet is wise!
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So let me get this straight. You had few to none sports injuries, but one kitchen injury. You know what they call that? You are getting o-l-d-e-r.
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Haha now that I think of it I did have a few other sports injuries but they came when I got older and were probably because of age. Darn. This is a sad comment.
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I was most entertained by your tale of injury and pain! More of the same please! I suggest videoing your accidents for our amusement as well!
I can claim to be something of an expert on nosebleeds. This was partially due to sticking my finger up there (ewwww!) and partly due to heat – I was always more prone to nosebleeds as a kid if it was hot. One time (at band camp – ok not really) I wasn’t allowed on a bouncy castle because I’d had a big nosebleed and felt woozy. I wasn’t happy.
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Oh man, being denied entry into a bouncy castle because of a bloody nose would’ve killed me. I shall set up cameras to catch my next accident. Maybe I’ll surf down the staircase next…
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I tend to turn my ankle on uneven sidewalks and such and hence have learned the art of gracefully rolling in public, Paul. I’m glad you survived your head-banging incident.
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A graceful roll in public! That’s impressive. I wonder how many security cameras have caught you doing just that lol
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Thanks for planting that thought in my head, Paul. Security guards laugh all over town.
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oh no!! Do you think that my mentioned Voldemort yesterday made him come after you since it’s on your blog and not mine?! eeeeeepppp sorry!
Like Angela, I laughed quite a bit over this. But more in an “omg I would totally do that” type of way. I am such a klutz at the moment and I’m not sure why. Almost every day I have a new bruise somewhere. Just yesterday I walked into the corner of my bed frame (new bruise) AND forgot about a lip on the floor while walking from one room to the next at work, stubbing my toe. I’m basically a train wreck waiting to happen most days.
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It’s all your fault!! And now you mentioned him again!
Haha don’t you hate it when the bed frame just jumps out at you? A stubbed toe is the worst. All floors at work should be bubble wrap. It would lower injuries and make it more fun.
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I throw caution to the wind! Gingers don’t have souls so its hard to think of what would happen to others haha!!
A bubble wrap floor and around the furniture would be such a great idea!! It would save my legs so many bruises haha
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😂 I’m almost sorry that I’m laughing at your pain, but the style in which you have relayed to us your tragic tale was way too funny to not. (if you understood that sentence, congrats! If you read it in a British accent, jolly good, old chap!)
Until a couple years ago, I was The Ultimate Klutz, and it started one night when I misjudged a turn and BANGed my head into my doorframe. I just barely missed my temple, but I still had a black (purple) eye for a week or so. Did I mention I was 6?
I also knocked my two front (baby, thankfully) teeth loose by running into a chair about a year later…
I ran out of klutz batteries a couple years ago, when my injuries were more like stubbed toes every week or so. Since then? Aside from rug burns, I’ve been fine!
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Pip pip cheerio! Ah I haven’t had a black eye yet. If I’m walking around my house in the dark/with my eyes closed, I just put my arms in front of me so I don’t bang into something. I feel like my luck might be running out though. Sounds like you were quite klutzy! Maybe all of us were when we were kids. I was destined to be a klutz but turned that around when I got older.
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Paul, I regret to inform you that I did not knock on wood!! I hate to tell you this but you see it only works for yourself. It’s totally true, I am not shitting you!! You can only knock on wood for your stuff…it’s the wood knockers national convention law 176.28 paragraph 4.9 adopted in January 1897!!
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No. No No Nooooooo. NO! I think you’re right, but nooooo. I didn’t knock on wood. A week from now I’ll be back with another post about how my body is falling apart. Guaranteed. 😦
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I am so sorry, it was those darned wood knockers you see!! It’s all there fault.!!
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I’ll have to knock some sense into them.
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I would feel sorry for you, Paul. Except that seeing as how I injure myself so often it’s barely worth mentioning, I think it’s only fair that you hurt yourself for once. Am I a bad person? Maybe. But for once I’m glad it wasn’t me that had to feel my brain rattle around a little upon collision.
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Haha I appreciate this response! I’m happy to take a hit if it means you feel good about it not being you this one time.
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Does it make me a bad person if I didn’t knock on wood at all? Like not even after you told me to? Yeah…I’m awful hahaha
To make things worse, I found amusement in your suffering. I’m starting to see a pattern here. I’m an awful person haha
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Haha you terrible person!
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I’m sorry Paul
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This will never happen to me. Everything goes over my head, literally. Sounds sore! Also just so you know, next time you worry about stitches or staples, get steristrips – they’re basically little stickers that hold your wound closed. Yes you’ll have a scar but on the plus side you won’t have had someone actually attempt to SEW YOUR SKIN TOGETHER (seriously. Why.), so. Steristrips all the way.
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I’ve never heard of those before, they sound great! I read your post yesterday and was envious that you’re short. Us tall people need helmets everywhere we go.
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I shouldn’t have laughed this much.
I claim to be a Klutz, but my mother trusts my 7 year sister with her China but not me. I dunno what that makes me.
I also want to admit that I thought the word is Klux. Like in the KKK. I was confused.
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Oh my god hahahaha it’s definitely Klutz.
Also, it sounds like you’re untrustworthy with plates.
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I am a 5 8, Indian teen girl, here the average height is 5 3, hence I am too tall for all the showers in this country. So I kinda sympathise with you, because my shins curse everyday the designers who designed this world for freaking midgets.
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That sounds frustrating. All of those designers must’ve been short.
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hahahahahah!! I finally got to read this and why did I wait! Oh yea. Life. First of all- BANANA MEDICINE? Seriously? Is it SMUSHED BANANA medicine? Because where I’m from (planet Earth) we like BUBBLEGUM flavored medicine. (Adding to list of things Paul needs to try). I’m sorry you got “hurt” lmfao but it was totally worth it! Your cabinets are CLEARLY not your enemy! Don’t boycott them! Give them a promotion! Or a raise! (A raise would work because if they were up higher they’d be out of your way) they were giving you amazing blog inspiration! It’s called TOUGH LOVE Paul and THAT is what your cabinets did. They conspired with their sharp edges to give you a little nudge of inspiration DIRECTLY to your brain which resulted in immediate, hysterical material.
YOU’RE WELCOME, Paul’s Cabinets. I don’t think he took enough time to sit back and appreciate your full intent.
And also- how does SAM feel about you referring to yourself as a sandwich?! I’m just asking. You should give him an emotional check-in every now and then!
And as for myself- yea well. Im THAT moron who manages to destroy TWO ankles at ONCE by doing nothing other than- walking. Yep. Sophomore year of high school. Walking… lalalala…walking….. not paying attention to the floor ahead of me, which suddenly turned into a set of 3 stairs in a downward direction…. and then realizing I can’t float/fly/walk on air…. so I managed to fall since I skipped the entire set of stairs and land straight on my ankles, sitting in a perfect INDIAN STYLE position. So now I have two busted ankles and it’s my first night of dance practice with a new team. So I somehow manage to force my way through the rest of the day with torn tendons and ligaments in both ankles without causing a scene. Go to dance practice without mom noticing. DANCE for an hour. Then get home and practically fall on my face when my mom notices my ankles are the size of my big ass head and they’re BLACK AND GREEN and yea. Yeppppp. Ok bye.
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LOL I told you it was funny!
Banana medicine is what the Doctor used to prescribe for me when I was a kid. It was just a yellow liquid (haha don’t go there, stay with me now)…that tasted like banana. It was sooo good. So was the Strawberry one. Apparently they don’t give it to big kids like me 😦
Haha if I give my cabinets a raise I might as well just take them out for a celebratory dinner and forget to bring them home.
TWO ankles at ONCE? Oh man. I’m just imagining you sitting on the ground after falling and people walking by wondering what you’re doing. “Oh just meditating. Trying to regain my Chi, it’s been a hard day.” hahah
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Before I even read your response let me apologize for 2 awful typos in my initial comment: 1- PROMOTION not promition. 2- SCENE not seen. Ok now I’m going back to your response thanks lol
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Just fixed it for you!
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Lmfao! Zero comments on that yellow mystery liquid. Cough cough. Wait let me not cough. Don’t want that stuff prescribed to me like ever lol! And yes I was too school for cool so I totally tried to play it off though I wasn’t that clever back then lol wish I woulda thought of that!! Damn you high school Ely! Either way I’ve had destructive ankle accidents ever since… they’ve never been the same. I’m on crutches with a sprain 2-65 times per year depending on how much walking I do and how many times I manage to trip over completely smooth grounds. I keep saying the devil is playing tricks on me from beneath me but ppl just stare at me in awkward silence so I’ve had to stop with the satanic remarks lol whatever. Next time I’ll stick to meditation
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2-65 times? I read that as if it were a highway sign hahah. I don’t think I’ve ever even touched a crutch. KNOCK ON WOOD. Lol satan is tripping you up…I could see how others wouldn’t find that funny. The meditation excuse is solid, or you can say you’re practising for your magic carpet ride.
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Boooom! #teamgenius lol! That’s getting spammed for sure. I’m over it! #spamQueen
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I’m somewhere between a klutz & a klutz deluxe. I’m more like a klutz with a soda, but no french fries. Better than a regular klutz, but still cruddy. LOL
I tend to walk into door-frames a lot. I shouldn’t wear a watch – they all get scratched up. Toes get stubbed a lot too. I haven’t had *knocks on wood* any big accidents lately. I did trip myself on the stairs in our old house & got a hairline fracture in the cartilage of my ankle (not even sure how that can happen), & then in high school gym, I torn the ligament in the same ankle.
I also did go horseback riding a lot as a kid. It’s a bad idea for klutzes. I fell off a lot. LOL
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Haha this post escalated from a mere stubbed toe to a full blown hairline fracture in the cartilage whaaaaat? Horse are bad news, I feel. They secretly all want to be a rodeo bull and just toss people off.
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Well, we’re talking about times we’ve managed to hurt ourselves doing mundane activities. I reached the top of the stairs, realized I forgot something, went to pivot around, & tried to take a step with my right leg while it was still behind my left leg. I literally tripped myself down the damned stairs.
BTW, my loving sister gave me 3 ice cubes in a plastic bag for that injury. LOL
You’re half right about horses. I could educate ya, but I don’t think anyone cares about learning animal minds as much as I do. Also, you never asked. LOL
OH! That reminds me – when I was a little kid (like, little little… I don’t remember it at all), I was playing hide & seek with my sister. I was hiding in the cabinet under the kitchen sink & I stood up. I needed, like, 8 stitches on the top of my head.
That’s not even close to the most stitches I had at one time. LOL
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Haha why would you stand up while hiding under the sink?? 8 stitches, oh man. I’ve had stitches in my mouth when I got my wisdom teeth out and for something else, so I never really saw them. Stitches on my head would make me feel like a Halloween prop.
Also, I’m jealous of the 3 ice cubes.
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I was like 2, Paul! I don’t know what my reasoning was for standing up while under the sink! Maybe I thought I was too short to ever hit my head on something? #ShortAndDelusional lol
You should have seen me after I got bitten by a dog & needed 49 stitches to put my eyelid back together. I was the only full-time pirate in the 2nd grade. Too bad my parents never let me bring my parakeet to school – he would’ve looked awesome with that eyepatch. LMFAO
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FORTY NINE STITCHES WHAT. Why wasn’t that the first story you told me instead of you as a 2 year old under the sink? Always lead with the FORTY NINE STITCHES.
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Technically, it was 49 to put together the eyelid, # 50 was on the top of my forehead where the other side of the dog’s jaw bit down.
But, since we were talking about times when we injured ourselves because we were klutzes, the 49 eyelid stitches didn’t technically count. I didn’t stumble & fall into the dog’s mouth. LOL
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Lawd, this was like a page out of my own book. I classify myself as a klutz because I believe in the power of thinking things into being, such as I won’t be 200% klutzy if I tell myself I’m just a regular klutz, but I believe deep down I register under super klutz.
I couldn’t begin to count the number of klutzy injuries I’ve sustained inside my own home though, thankfully, they’ve been pretty minor. Bruises, burns, cuts & scrapes. Slamming my head into the corner of cabinets is never any fun, especially since people tell me I’m short so how the hell am I knocking my head on cabinets?
And now I wonder how I’ve meandered into this area…time for more coffee.
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Sounds like you’ve had a rough go of it around the house. At least they were nothing major. That being said, you could never too careful. I think bubble wrap carpets and cabinets are the way of the future. That should solve some of our problems lol
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My favorite time of night.
A note for Paul.
Fitting timing, because I’m watching the World Series, and I feel like you would be too. (Am I right?)
Anyway, I did stop mentally knocking on wood after request 2, or was it 1…?
“Inside scoop: you never forget the moment you die. At least I haven’t!”
Bahahaha.
Can I have a prescription for banana medicine now?
WHAT? I do not like bananas. what. so. ever.
“it’ll rattle around and make enough noise to wake up the whole house, street, and continent.”
Is this what happens when I wake up unexpectedly mid-slumber? Damn you laP!
“Downward Hog” is coming up soon. It’s where we all lay on our stomachs for 6 hours and do nothing.”
hahaha.
“and wondered why no one had created the technology to rewind life, like we could rewind videos on YouTube.”
Feel like I could write an entire post about this. What a great comment.
“And that’s where my one inch scar is. It’s on a slant, so in a way I’m basically Harry Potter.”
hahahah.
I just read this allowed, and my boyfriend followed along and then said “I don’t understand this exercise.” Lolololol
“And in between all those questions, I’d grab a Kleenex, wipe my head, and try to see if blood appeared by holding the Kleenex up to my digital clock. The four times I did that, my clock didn’t provide enough light so I had to get up and turn on my overhead light. What a chore.”
HAHAH. Oh, Paul. We are alike! You need a bedside lamp.
“There was no blood. It was all in my head.” ZING!
I am FOR SURE a klutz deluxe. I’m on the other end of this. I blame the counters. I climb on them (because I am 5’2), to reach things – and get bruises on my shins. I also get bruises coming out of the shower, hitting my shin on the bathtub. And the other day I hit my pinky toe on the corner of my bed frame. And a leg of the desk dropped on my big toe, and I squealed. And bruised. Should I go on?
Miss you.
.xo.
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Wow what a comment haha.
I was watching the World Series here and there.
You don’t like bananas?????? Whaaaaaaat??? I love banana pudding. I also mash up my bananas because they taste better like that.
Oh, and I literally just had banana bread with chocolate chips.
Downward hog might be the best thing I’ve ever come up with.
Haha did your boyfriend try to follow along by directions of where my cut was? I like him already.
I have a bedside lamp! But I don’t have an outlet for it anymore, so it’s just there for decoration haha
How did I know you would be a klutz deluxe lolol. I used to climb on counters and washing machines all the time when I was a kid/5’2. hahaha
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Bahaha. Yeah, he did try to follow along to figure out where your cut was. I’m not sure if I’m offended or flattered that you knew I’d be a klutz deluxe. but either way, I am one.
LOL a kid….. I am the size of one. Unfortunately my crows feet prevent me from enjoying the Kid’s menu/prices.
And no, I do nottttt like bananas. Though, I do like banana bread. *Thinking face*
.xo.
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Don’t be offended at all!
So, I googled “Crows Feet” to see how big a crow’s foot is…and realized you weren’t talking about feet….
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Oh, also, I posted something yesterday that you might like.
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Checking….
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First off, I need you to be my yoga instructor. Because well, “This post just turned into a yoga tutorial. Don’t worry, “Downward Hog” is coming up soon. It’s where we all lay on our stomachs for 6 hours and do nothing.” Oh yeah.
And I’m probably Klutz Deluxe. I’ve had too many kitchen injuries and my mum remembers all the cups I’ve smashed. Yikes.
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Maybe I’ll have to create a new blog character and make them a Yoga Instructor. Downward Hog is already a fan favourite.
I don’t think I’ve ever broken a cup or plate!
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You’re lucky. Indian moms turn into Ninjas if you break their cutlery so yeah I’ve been karate chopped a million times. YES to the Downward Hog! Make him/her wear a pink sweatsuit.
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Oh man! You need to invest in a wooden spoon to protect yourself. Yes to the pink sweatsuit. It’ll be spandex.
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YIKES. Hog in spandex. Now THIS, I can’t wait to see. Hahahah.
(I did buy a wooden spoon and broke it. )
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Oh my greatness! I am most definitely a Klutz Deluxe. I bang my arm, leg, head, toe (that’s the WORST!), back, anything on everything! I’ll wake up one day and see a huge bruise and I won’t even know how I got it. THAT’S how much I stumble into something. I do it so often I can’t narrow down what I hit with so many other occations. It’s slightly irritating.
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Sounds like you need to bubble wrap yourself or your house!
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But then I’d have that uncontrollable urge to pop the bubble wrap and that would defeat it’s purpose.
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I think I read something a while ago where they were coming out with bubble wrap that could be re-popped.
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Oh my gosh! The perfect kids toy for those who are supposed to be too old for kids toys
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