I just joined the Darwin Awards.

We used to do crazy shit when we were adolescents. Seriously. My mother used to shout at me for jumping off the roof into the pool. Man, if she had seen some of the really crazy shit I was doing, she would have begged me to keep jumping. My girlfriend pulled up beside us on the highway one night, honking and flashing her lights. It was dark, there was no one else on the highway, but my pickup was very recognizable. The graffiti-style paint job was distinct. So she pulled up and rolled down her passenger window, waving at me and shouting something incoherent. Well, I’ll just get my buddy to take over driving!

So my buddy slides behind the wheel and I hop over to the passenger side, crawl out my window and into the bed of the truck (while we’re still moving). Then I did the whole acrobatic stretch between the two vehicles and slipped down through her window and into the seat. I guess I could have just waited, since we were going the same place, and both arrived some three minutes later. I missed her though, you know?

There was this church in Lewisville where they had a sort of decorative column like a spire that shot up from the ground to like a hundred feet above the roof of the church. It was square shaped, and turned at an angle, and the building had a notch built in so it – well, it looked like this from above: <> > Just imagine the single one there with a line going straight up from the top and down from the bottom – that’s the building. Anyway, so this spire thing was like three and a half feet away from the actual church. And my buddies and I thought it would be a good idea to get on the roof of the church and lean across to put our hands on the spire. It’s pretty invigorating to lean across and put your hands on it, staring down at the chasm before you. Serious adrenaline rush. Especially when you’re now off-balance and most of your weight is now pressed against the spire. “Okay guys, grab my belt and pull me back!” I couldn’t push back off of it. There wasn’t really any good foothold, so they had trouble pulling me back. So here I am thirty feet off the ground, stuck between church and steeple. Idiot.

I guess none of that is as stupid as trying to surf in the bed of the truck, sailing across the mall parking lot, while the driver’s sole purpose is to make you fall. Boy I’ve done some stupid shit. Yeah, I’ve skated backwards. Dived in the no-diving zone. Changed CDs with wet hands. But last night I topped it all.

I tried to take the remote control off the arm of the couch while my wife was watching American Idol.

I’m now coming to you as a fellow human being. Asking you to please donate to my cause. The medical bills are going to be more than I can handle. And please, fellow humans, for the love of The Elephant, learn from my mistake.

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6 Responses

  1. Anonymous says:

    women shouldnt have the remote in the first place dumb ass. lol

  2. I tell the wifey it has a users code and it’s just easier for me to imput.

  3. Becky Riles says:

    What is the danger in changing CD’s with wet hands I’m curious? At least you didn’t shoot arrows up into the sky like Captain Mcright!

  4. Someone Who Cares says:

    You could get the laser wet and ruin your CD player?

  5. Jeremy says:

    Hell hath no fury like a woman being kept from her soaps!

  6. Space says:

    Good call there, Anonymous. I have often considered buying a cheap plastic toy remote that doesn’t work with any of my components and giving that to her.

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