What's the last thing to go through a fly's mind when he crashes into your windshield?
His ass.
Weeks like this make me wish I had a book deal. The stories are phenomenal, self-deprecating, and highly embarrassing for everyone involved. As such, I will not blog about it because there’s no amount of anonymity that will actually make the stories feasible, and I will have a LOT of angry amigos. Yet, the stories should be told nonetheless. If I had a book, I would totally sell my soul (and yours too) for the literary entertainment. Since this is not the case, I will write them up, and systematically disperse them at appropriate times and when no one is looking. *Le Sigh*
On another note, I had a near death experience the other day. Well, it wasn’t really “near death” so much as I wrongfully thought my life was ending and experienced all of the pre-death thoughts that occur under the auspice of impending doom.
The girls and I were in a glass elevator at the hotel in Dallas (I’m going to need to set the scene, so you can understand the near-death aspect. Bear with me.). The elevator is in the middle of a giant multi-story atrium. The 3rd floor of the atrium is the bottom and the lobby is below this, so in order to get to the lobby, the elevator needs to go THROUGH the third floor landing. We were not aware of this, and thought the 3rd floor WAS the lobby. We were in the elevator chit chatting about the multitude of diseases that are going to be the death of Thumper when we realized that the elevator wasn’t slowing down at what we thought was the lobby floor. We all grasped the rail, braced our stances, and screamed. Literally.
The panic in everyone’s faces was unparalleled. All three of us honestly thought we were about to crash. Thumper screamed first, which sent Brosa and I into the bowels of uncontrolled screaming, much like an amusement park ride except the screaming did not have a fun connotation. Our stances were similar. Being athletic individuals, we were aware of how to brace for impact: wide stance, partial squat, body hunched. To be a fly on that wall…
I had never anticipated Death By Elevator on the list of Things I Do That Are Likely To Kill Me. Thus, I was a bit unprepared for this unexpected turn of events. However, the best part of the experience is that I am now aware of what passes through my mind right before I die. I had always expected it would be something substantial. Maybe it would be a flash of regret or an apology that was never given. Maybe I would have an epiphany and realize the meaning of life at a moment when the information is no longer useful. Or maybe it would be something sweet and emotional, like a pictorial vision of everyone I love or sweet childhood memories of my family.
Nope. It was none of the things.
I take comfort in knowing that on my final breath, and knocking on Death’s door, all I will be able to think is, “Oh shit… This is going to hurt.”
Weeks like this make me wish I had a book deal. The stories are phenomenal, self-deprecating, and highly embarrassing for everyone involved. As such, I will not blog about it because there’s no amount of anonymity that will actually make the stories feasible, and I will have a LOT of angry amigos. Yet, the stories should be told nonetheless. If I had a book, I would totally sell my soul (and yours too) for the literary entertainment. Since this is not the case, I will write them up, and systematically disperse them at appropriate times and when no one is looking. *Le Sigh*
On another note, I had a near death experience the other day. Well, it wasn’t really “near death” so much as I wrongfully thought my life was ending and experienced all of the pre-death thoughts that occur under the auspice of impending doom.
The girls and I were in a glass elevator at the hotel in Dallas (I’m going to need to set the scene, so you can understand the near-death aspect. Bear with me.). The elevator is in the middle of a giant multi-story atrium. The 3rd floor of the atrium is the bottom and the lobby is below this, so in order to get to the lobby, the elevator needs to go THROUGH the third floor landing. We were not aware of this, and thought the 3rd floor WAS the lobby. We were in the elevator chit chatting about the multitude of diseases that are going to be the death of Thumper when we realized that the elevator wasn’t slowing down at what we thought was the lobby floor. We all grasped the rail, braced our stances, and screamed. Literally.
The panic in everyone’s faces was unparalleled. All three of us honestly thought we were about to crash. Thumper screamed first, which sent Brosa and I into the bowels of uncontrolled screaming, much like an amusement park ride except the screaming did not have a fun connotation. Our stances were similar. Being athletic individuals, we were aware of how to brace for impact: wide stance, partial squat, body hunched. To be a fly on that wall…
I had never anticipated Death By Elevator on the list of Things I Do That Are Likely To Kill Me. Thus, I was a bit unprepared for this unexpected turn of events. However, the best part of the experience is that I am now aware of what passes through my mind right before I die. I had always expected it would be something substantial. Maybe it would be a flash of regret or an apology that was never given. Maybe I would have an epiphany and realize the meaning of life at a moment when the information is no longer useful. Or maybe it would be something sweet and emotional, like a pictorial vision of everyone I love or sweet childhood memories of my family.
Nope. It was none of the things.
I take comfort in knowing that on my final breath, and knocking on Death’s door, all I will be able to think is, “Oh shit… This is going to hurt.”
Haha! The elevator story does not do it justice.... you just had to be there to fully appreciate the situation.
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I once had a similar experience doing coke off a stripper's ass. I won't get into the details but will say those diseases you were so calmly discussing should be of little concern in either situation.
Also, I don't know if Brosa is a first or last name but either way it is most unfortunate.
Your pal,
Tex
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Dear Tex,
It's an evolved nickname from her real name. She doesn't like it, but that's not really a deterrent. She also goes by Brose in the blog... but I figure that's a little evident.
You drank soda off a stripper's ass? It probably tasted terrible...
Love,
Danielle
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i myself have had a couple near death experiences and my last thoughts never fails to be of the taco that got away
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