[quote]DBCooper wrote:
Time for a new one. I’ll start it off with one of my own tales.
Yesterday I was doing heavy deadlifts and on my last set I yanked a smelling salt so far up my nose it burned the back of my skull. Keep in mind, this is in my garage with the door wide open. So I was roaring like a wounded fucking elephant when I started the lift, when I locked it out I started screaming at the top of my lungs then lowered it and (mockingly, trying to startle my roommate who was lifting with me) started crying.
Then I stood up and hurled a can of Diet Coke out of the garage and into the street. When the can hit a car driving by I looked up and noticed that these two smoking hot chicks who were running by had stopped to watch the spectacle of me deadlifting. They looked scared, especially since I had apparently hurled the can right over their heads and it glanced off the car driving by behind them. I sheepishly waved and said “sorry…it’s, uh…the steroids. Heh, heh.” Then I rolled my eyes into the back of my head and kinda staggered back into the garage.
The girls watching made me think of something:
Couple years ago, I caught the elevator out of the laboratory, on my way to a philosphy 150 final. (You know, those classes you have to take, in order to support someone who got a phd in philosphy?) The elevator is cranky to say the least, and murphy’s law applies. The door opens and inch and just stops. I’m stuck on the ground floor, presumably because the elevator and the floor didn’t quite match up right.
I reach for the phone in the elevator, but of course someone has torn out the receiver. So…yeah, I start kicking the door. And swearing. And finally, in desperation, I squish my fingers in there and yard on the doors. With a roar, of course, that godzilla’d be proud of. The doors came open.
Aaaaand, there was a gaggle of little asian freshmen coeds staring with eyes as big as dinner plates.