mooliachi wrote:Although I am 32 years old and weigh the 200 pounds, I continue to ride fast on the skateboard.

Hey, doesn't the added weight just make you go faster?

I would think that extra weight would make you go slower, because you need to push harder to get moving. 200 pounds isnt that heavy though for a 32 year old

tmidgett wrote:holy fuck bradley r. weissenburgers!!!!!!!!!!!

your truck...i am sad she is dead! this is the toyota 'lands cruiser????' oh shit!

but bradley...is so much to be happy about! the seat belt...she is a great invention to make. she has SAVED YOUR LIFE!

did you to hospital go? you have not to hit your head? b/c it seem...the first thing you have done is to make post to electrical audios website! in fake italian!

brad, many wishes to feel great again and to get a great new truck.

ciao

tm

Personal to Bradley: RANK!

Pearl Jam
The Seat Belt
REM

I miss Signore Mooliachi.

Please to be coming back, Signore.

yeah, dozen's of names i forgot existed. they have departed. maybe too near the death.

i hope not. wish i had a story to tell. bump.

I once climbed a 40-something foot waste-pipe in order to reach a window behind which this very beautiful girl was sleeping.

I adored this girl. I thought it would make for a nice surprise.

I was also completely drunk.

Having reached said window I climbed upon a little plateau in front of it and proceeded to try and open it. When it did, it pushed me backwards, into the void that was behind me. I somehow grabbed the window and just hung there in absolute space for what seemed an eternity and a half, until finally I managed to swing back towards safety and enter said girls dormant sleeping quarters. How I did this I have no idea. But I was completely calm just hanging there.

I never mentioned it to el chica, and only when I looked down to street level the next morning I realised exactly what I had escaped.

Jesus H. Christ, am I no fucking Romeo.

Don't even get me started...

burun wrote:I was just about to turn around, when I saw this car driving really, really fast.

The car swerved out of traffic, as if to make a turn. Instead of turning into the street perpendicular to Fordham Road, he barreled ONTO THE SIDEWALK and right into me.

Out of everyone on the crowded sidewalk, I was the only one the driver hit. As he was about to hit me, I thought "what a waste", and realized that well, after all, it'll be a quick death and that's the best kind, right?

The next thing I knew, I was lying on the sidewalk, surrounded by people asking me to wiggle my toes. I pulled out my mobile phone and called my mother, to tell her that I just got hit by a car and wouldn't be making the game after all. Off duty police and some RN's from the nearby hospital were all asking me questions. One of them asked me how I felt, and I said "I feel a little run down."

I've heard this story before but I think that enough time has passed for me to actually be able to enjoy the humor of that line. Previously it just made me hold my breath.

I was driving on I-95 at 80-90 mph in heavy traffic once when a large tire fell off a tractor that was being pulled on a trailer two or three cars in front of us in the right lane (we were in the left). It made a b-line for our windsheild and I had to swerve into the median causing us to careen out of control, rolling the car twice. One of the flips happened completely in mid-air according to a witness.

We laneded safely in the median, right-side up and the passenger door about 8 inches from a tree. I was fine, my best friend sustained whiplash, and his mom's new car was totalled. We went to a hotel after his x-rays, ate expensive steaks and shrimp coctails, then split half his bottle of vicodin and played Euchre with a couple of waitresses.

I am posting this for a friend:

"One time, not long after Justin got me, we were going downtown to see a vet. Justin was driving me in a friend's car where the rear hatchback window had been broken. The window hole was covered by a piece of clear plastic. So we're driving down the FDR, a windy road on the East Side of Manhattan. There are several spots on this road that have no shoulder, just the road and concrete barriers. I was wandering around the inside of the car (Justin hadn't yet purchased a carrier for me) and became very interested in the piece of plastic covering the back of the car.

"So I crept up and poked my head out of this piece of plastic and realized that I could climb down onto the bumper of the car. No matter, of course, that there was no where to pull over an stop to get me, neither that it was dark and rainy and it would have been suicide for Justin to just stop in the lane he was in. So I rode along on the back bumper of this car, millimeters away from falling off into the path of the speeding cars behind us. It took about a mile or so before Justin could find a spot to stop the car and collect me. At that point, I hopped off the stopped car and had nearly wandered into the incoming path of a 55MPH pickup truck.

"A few years later, Justin and his wife decided to head out of town for the weekend. On Friday night, I leapt up onto a windowsill, knocking the fan down 2 stories. Unfortunately, the fan was propping up a window that promptly slammed down behind me. This left me stranded out on the 3 inch wide windowsill for three days (it was a long weekend). When Justin finally did come home, he noted the tufts of hair on my tail that were trapped in the slammed window. He realized that, had my tail been even an inch more inside when the window slammed, it would have been severed and I would have bled to death out on the window sill.

"There's a few more, but those are my favorite."

= Justin's Cat

Edit - Oh, and one time Justin got blind drunk and figured he'd wander through the NYC subway tunnels. He blacked out a few times and has no idea how he ended up at home.