was treated to the leavings of a 14 yr olds shower when I stepped right into Lake Hawley on the main bathroom floor in my thin little slippers (nothing like Soggy Foot to start your day at the rink right) and what appeared to be the after-shocks of a laundry truck barely surviving Noro Virus. And as Im scooping up armloads of dirty clothes and floating towels on the floor trying to mop up the entire contents of my hot water tank while I mutter Gaelic curse words under my breath...my central nervous system alerts me to the presence of a creepy haunted looking eight-legged freak crouched in that evil way they do on the Axe Body Wash bottle I just disentangled from a t-shirt on the floor. Inches from my face. Just waiting to devour me. (I swear it whispered Hello Clarice. I heard it). So let me start by apologizing to my Grade 11 physics teacher, who drilled into my head that propulsion force is directly related to the mass of the object in motion. Not true Sir. Turns out a 30 oz bottle of Axe Body Wash carries the same amount of destructive force when its released from the claws of a screeching middle aged woman as a 12 tonne lead wrecking ball launched out of a particle accelerator. (A woman who, as it turns out, should have starred in The Matrix movie franchise based on her flawless Ninja throwing skills). Thrown with superhero accuracy...I might add. Nailed that freak to the now shattered remains of the last lightbulb in the track. (Sorry for the pending rainstorm folks. Totally worth it). These mad skills, however, dont seem to translate to my legs as my central nervous system got them moving in the opposite direction of my Oscar Worthy assault on that hideous intruder. Forgetting about the pile of towels I scattered all over the floor to soak up Lake Hawley. Leaving me sliding in two directions....doing a cruel interpretation of the splits as I covered the length of the floor like The Worlds Most Defective Zamboni Driver. And ending with me hovering inches off the floor looking like Jean Claude Van Damme in that cool commercial where he hes doing the splits between two transfer trucks barreling down the highway. Except Van Damme in my commercial has his face contorted in agony and is screeching for God to save him. Nothing wrong with walking funny for a few days if it means keeping the world safe from a creepy haunted looking freak. No...no. Dont applaud. No tears. Its just how I roll....
Posted on: Sun, 14 Dec 2014 13:06:54 +0000