The skateboard of death is every mother's wish, as she purchases the $20 skateboard from the department store, not knowing, not dreaming of the epic falls onto the black asphalt, scraping limb and leg into tattered sticks, that would ensue as a direct effect of buying said evil wheeled board. No one knew that EVERY single time you ride it you DIE!
Bad Evil Skateboard of Death. They didn't expect you to live long enough for your wood screws to pull out of the board, as was bound to happen over time in the event that you didn't already die from a self-inflicted launch after hitting a small rock or crack in the sidewalk with your inappropriately small, hard clay wheels. Stops on a dime. Liter-a lee.
The ship that launched a thousand faces. They all went down. Down on the pavement, the gutter and ultimately, the trash, where some angry kid threw the miscreant device, until such time it became available on Ebay for more than 20x what it sold for originally.
Friday, December 26, 2014
Ode to the Black Knight
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
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I've changed my comments settings to allow for anyone to comment. All comments are welcome, even spineless potshots from anonymous posters. Please, by all means, give me the tongue lashing I so richly deserve. I promise not to hunt you down and melt your keyboard with my plasma cannon. I won't, however, promise not to pout and make that face you can't stand.