My claim to fame

When I was in the 9th grade we took a school trip to Washington DC. I remeber clearly getting on the bus but I don't remember ever making it to Washington DC. Those of you who know me have heard this story and may skip reading this. On second thought, everyone must read this because my next blog will be a quiz on the contents. It won't be a general subject matter quiz either. The quiz will be very detail oriented. Such as, How many words did I mispell. So don't think if you know the story you can not read this and pass the quiz. It has never worked.

Since the trip to DC was fairly long, we stayed in a hotel halfway through the drive. I bragged on and on during the entire ride that me and my fellow dumbass friends would be sneaking out of our hotel room that night. People told us over and over that they taped the doors. In case you are unfamiliar with taping, here is the general concept. The teachers place a piece of duct tape on the outside of your door. If you leave your room, you have no way of placing the tape back on the door so they know who has naughty and who has been a nerd. They should've thought of taping the window...

We were on the second floor and the girls were on the third floor. There were decorative railings on the outside of the building. Not balconies mind you, but decorative railings. They were about a foot off of the building. You could position yourself so that (get ready) the bottoms of your hands were on the bottom of the top rail and the bottoms of your feet were on the top of the bottom rail. In this way you could shimy, much like a ninja across the building. The girls decided to hang out of their windows in their bras and ask us if we would climb up. Of course we would.

My friend David went up first. I was too scared to watch. I climbed back in bed and got underneathe the covers. I look out moments later and he had made it. My turn. I slid along side the building until I was directly below the whores room. In life we are always trying to reach the whores room, metaphoricly speaking. I placed my feet on the bottom of an open window and began to do a pull up on one of the decorative railings. The fucking motherfucker broke. I fell backwards off this buidling and went sailing to the ground. I landed with my left arm behind me and my knees bent, causing my heels to hit. Much like playing twister, twister with a bunch of whores. My heels shattered and my wrist broke.

Here is the whole point of this story...At the hospital the doctors were not sure if they could even repair my heels. They said it was up to my parents if they wanted to try but it might be just as well to cast me up and let them heal. They said it looked like someone took two eggs and threw them on the ground. They tried the surgery and it was successful. I have a lot of titanium in my feet, but it was successful. I can run, jump and be merry. Since this surgery was seriously never done before, I ended up in a medical textbook somewhere. The doctor took pictures of me throughout the whole process for the book. Why he took pictures of my special places I will never know. Since I hate the textbook companies I was wondering if I should be entitled to any royalties from the sale of this book. I am thankful to the doctors and all, but he is rich and I am poor. What do you all think?

This really was my claim to fame. "Your the guy that jumped off that building and broke his legs aren't you". One time I had a guy tell this story to me, not knowing it was me of course, with all kinds of wrong information. I just led him on. Never told him the truth. hope you aren't reading this. Everyone have a beautiful day. Seriously, beautiful.