Hello Reader,
This is Mike, coming at you hot for one last time.
MikeThoughtsForYou has officially died, in part due to the fact that I haven't posted anything in three years.
Some of my loyal fans might be asking themselves, "where did the years go?" To those individuals, I have news for you: that's lost time that we're not getting back.
"But where have you been the last 3 years?"
Well, I've officially liquidated and sold MikeThoughtsForYou to Bloodclot Films, a media production company based out of New York. I will now be a regular contributor to their website, bloodclotfilms.com.
A few final words:
1) This blog started out a tiny infant in my arms. I cradled it; I fed it; I protected it. These past three years, however, I neglected it. Bloodclot Films will carry on its legacy.
2) I apologize for the plagiarized "quote sections" in some of the earlier MikeThoughtsForYou posts back in 2012. I was young and stupid. I now use bibliographies where necessary.
If I can leave you with a little something I came up with, it's this: life moves by pretty fast; if you don't stop and look around once in a while, you might miss it.
Stay classy San Diego,
Michael J. Erickson, CEO & Co-Founder, Bloodclot Films Inc.
Tuesday, February 19, 2019
Tuesday, January 5, 2016
10 Most Likely Celebrities to Die in 2016
10
Most Likely Celebrities to Die in 2016
2016
is officially underway. While people
rejoice at the commencement of a new year, I have decided to predict which
celebrities will “pass on to a better place” over the next 365 days. This may seem insensitive. However, I do not mean to offend anyone. These are merely estimations based on age and
physical status of certain individuals.
Enjoy!
NOT
IN ANY ORDER
1) Queen Elizabeth II- This
year may not be so “brilliant” (commonly used British word) for this 89 year
old gem. Let’s hope she makes it to “holiday”
(another commonly used British word)!
2)
Miley Cyrus-
This year may not be such a “Party in the USA” for this wild one. At only 23 years old, Miley makes our list
for partying a bit too hard!
3) Betty White- Betty
White is now 93 years old. She
will be 94 this January. Though Betty is
on this list as a celebrity, I have absolutely no clue what she does. Seriously Betty, step it up.
4) Larry King- This 82 year
old “walking goblin” is basically a rotting corpse already.
5)
Clint Eastwood- At 85 years old, Clint is still
terrifying. Clint’s year may involve
more “Gran Burials” than Gran Torinos…
6) Jack Nicholson- At 78 years old, Jack may not appear to be as
close to a casket as one may think.
However, this cigar lover’s year may not be so “shiny”, as he looks like
he croaked 5 years ago.
7) Robert De Niro-
At only 72 years old, this prediction is a mere shot in the dark. Your cheek mole will not be missed, Bob! Enjoy your silver lined casket!
8) Lindsay Lohan-
Lindsay, at 29 years old, has achieved quite a bit as a young actress. As time grew on, She got caught up with some
of the wrong people, had a donnybrook here and there, and as a result, made
this list. She’s not a “mean girl”; she
simply went down the wrong path.
9) Macaulay Culkin-
At 35 years old, this former child star rocked our homes with his Christmas
joy. Itty bitty Kevin McCallister is
gone, and poor Macaulay is all that’s left.
Don’t worry, Macaulay, we will bury you with your hands on your cheeks.
10) “WHAT IS” Alex Trebek-
At 75 years old, Alex has lived a great life.
Another shot in the dark, this is a complete guess. His death would come as a shock. I hope he makes it.
Thursday, November 19, 2015
Barber Shop Round 2: Barber's Revenge
What is happening? What is happening? These are the only words my mind could conjure as I spectated my golden locks of magical wonder departing from my kiwi-scented scalp. What is happening? What is happening?
For those of you who may know, I get my haircut at the worst barber shop on Long Island. Despite the fact that the haircut is the cheapest in the tri-state area, and the fact that I look adorable after, I would NOT recommend this barber shop. The atmosphere of the place is enough to murder a man. I always make sure to have some sort of make-shift weapon available in my pocket, just in case a donnybrook breaks out.
Today, I arrived at the barber shop in the cold and miserable weather (much like the atmosphere in the shop). My barber was a Russian man who spoke mostly in short phrases . "Welcome comrade!" As I shook his hand, my nostrils were unpleasantly greeted with the strong scent of alcoholic egg-nog. Good God. This is unbelievable! Is he drunk? How do I get out of this? His hands began shaking as he slurred his words.
Now, every time I visit my barber for a cut (we'll call him ###), he always asks me the same questions.
1) How your brother?!- This has some backstory. ### used to cut my brother's hair, UNTIL my brother decided the haircut "wasn't what he expected" because he "wanted it shorter". Now, my brother goes to a different barber. This ultimately leads to ### constantly asking about my brother, as ### greatly prefers him.
2) You got girlfriend?!- This is the worst one. YEAH! GO AHEAD AND RUB IT IN, ###! WE ALL KNOW THE ANSWER TO THAT SO JUST SHUT THE **** UP!
For those of you who may know, I get my haircut at the worst barber shop on Long Island. Despite the fact that the haircut is the cheapest in the tri-state area, and the fact that I look adorable after, I would NOT recommend this barber shop. The atmosphere of the place is enough to murder a man. I always make sure to have some sort of make-shift weapon available in my pocket, just in case a donnybrook breaks out.
Today, I arrived at the barber shop in the cold and miserable weather (much like the atmosphere in the shop). My barber was a Russian man who spoke mostly in short phrases . "Welcome comrade!" As I shook his hand, my nostrils were unpleasantly greeted with the strong scent of alcoholic egg-nog. Good God. This is unbelievable! Is he drunk? How do I get out of this? His hands began shaking as he slurred his words.
Now, every time I visit my barber for a cut (we'll call him ###), he always asks me the same questions.
1) How your brother?!- This has some backstory. ### used to cut my brother's hair, UNTIL my brother decided the haircut "wasn't what he expected" because he "wanted it shorter". Now, my brother goes to a different barber. This ultimately leads to ### constantly asking about my brother, as ### greatly prefers him.
2) You got girlfriend?!- This is the worst one. YEAH! GO AHEAD AND RUB IT IN, ###! WE ALL KNOW THE ANSWER TO THAT SO JUST SHUT THE **** UP!
By this point, ### has defeated all sense of dignity that I have accumulated to go the barber in the first place. As made evident, I despise going to the barber shop. The drunken barbers, competition between my brother and me, and the fact that I am currently single combine to form the perfect storm for sadness. I am currently working on a product that allows the user to push out his or her hair to the desired length, or retract hair back into the scalp to avoid haircuts. Stay tuned, and have a good weekend!
didn't come out too shabby :)
Thursday, July 30, 2015
5 Mistakes I'll Never Make Again
As made evident by the title, this post evolved from my past mistakes. These mistakes have shaped me as a human being. I now have a clearer perspective on the world. If these mistakes had not been made by me, I might have ended up nothing more than a ragamuffin, constantly pulling shenanigan-like stunts. Enjoy.
1) Once upon a time, I was a naïve child attempting to come off as intelligent. Ultimately, this resulted in using words with which I had little understanding. Originally, I thought that the word "harlot" held the same meaning as "minx" or "cunning". Well, I learned the hard way that this was not the truth. One night, I was texting a girl (who shall remain nameless). Being nothing more than a ingenuous 14 year old, attempting to flirt proved to be a more difficult endeavor than anticipated. I called the girl a "harlot", thinking nothing of it. After a few minutes of no response, I began to ponder what may have occurred. As I revised my previous texts, I decided to research the word "harlot", just to make sure it meant what I intended. Sliding my fingers across the phone's keyboard, I grew more and more agitated. As a singled tear of sweat dripped down my face and the definition of "harlot" appeared, I understood the consequences of my actions.
2) About 2 years ago, I discovered that I am lactose-intolerant. Obviously, I was not going to change my dairy consuming habits just because it makes my stomach explode. One night, I was out at a mall with some friends. We ordered some milkshakes to fulfill our desire for chocolate. Almost immediately, my stomach began to rumble. We started strolling throughout the mall to explore. Stopping in front of a smoothie store, I decided to release the gas that was building up inside me. This resulted in complete and utter destruction. Two ENORMOUS middle aged women walked by and halted at the uninvited smell that entered their nostrils. They began throwing around accusations, claiming that somebody in my group "ripped HARD". Thrown off by the confidence of these women in saying something so low-class, I blamed it on my friend. At this point, nobody was sure of who committed this terrible act. This relieved me, and my stomach.
3) Many of my pants have small holes in the crotch area from performing countless power-slides on my knees. Basically, this is when you run and fall to your knees to see how far you can slide. On this specific day, my pants and boxers BOTH ripped. I think you can see where this is going. Long story short, it did not end well. I wouldn't wish this upon even my worst enemy.
4) Over my few years of life, I've experienced many things. I've accumulated much knowledge throughout my travels. One warm August day, I assisted an old woman who worked at the elementary school I attended. I was accompanied by four friends as we helped the elderly woman move books around a storage closet. As she leaned over, a noise emerged from her hind-quarters. In complete disbelief, we all looked at each other for an explanation, wondering who just demolished all of our senses of smell. Who executed this stunt? We realized that the feat was performed by none other than the old woman. How bourgeois! This taught me one of the most useful lessons of my life: never hang out with old people.
5) As a young man, farting is funny. I fart everywhere. I fart at home. I fart in the library. I fart at school. I fart at the store. I fart in the car. I fart out the car window. I fart EVERYWHERE. Think of any place you've ever been. I've probably farted there. However, there is only one situation in which I would not fart. I learned the worst way possible. One Sunday, I was visiting my grandfather in the nursing home. My stomach was an absolute ticking time-bomb that day. As I pushed my grandfather in his wheelchair out of the cafeteria, I let the intestinal gas free. My grandfather and I escaped easily, as we were leaving the room. However, the old people who were left in the room playing bridge and talking about how their kids never visit were trapped. If these elders were just a few years younger, they could have escaped with us. However, being on the brink of death, they were too slow to escape the complete mayhem I had created. It was too late for me to go back and help. All I could do was watch as these men and women cried for it to just end. They didn't want to go home. They didn't care enough to go home. Whatever miniscule amount of life they still had was soiled, along with my pants. Old people are too slow to escape farts. Lesson: never fart around old people unless they deserve it.
1) Once upon a time, I was a naïve child attempting to come off as intelligent. Ultimately, this resulted in using words with which I had little understanding. Originally, I thought that the word "harlot" held the same meaning as "minx" or "cunning". Well, I learned the hard way that this was not the truth. One night, I was texting a girl (who shall remain nameless). Being nothing more than a ingenuous 14 year old, attempting to flirt proved to be a more difficult endeavor than anticipated. I called the girl a "harlot", thinking nothing of it. After a few minutes of no response, I began to ponder what may have occurred. As I revised my previous texts, I decided to research the word "harlot", just to make sure it meant what I intended. Sliding my fingers across the phone's keyboard, I grew more and more agitated. As a singled tear of sweat dripped down my face and the definition of "harlot" appeared, I understood the consequences of my actions.
2) About 2 years ago, I discovered that I am lactose-intolerant. Obviously, I was not going to change my dairy consuming habits just because it makes my stomach explode. One night, I was out at a mall with some friends. We ordered some milkshakes to fulfill our desire for chocolate. Almost immediately, my stomach began to rumble. We started strolling throughout the mall to explore. Stopping in front of a smoothie store, I decided to release the gas that was building up inside me. This resulted in complete and utter destruction. Two ENORMOUS middle aged women walked by and halted at the uninvited smell that entered their nostrils. They began throwing around accusations, claiming that somebody in my group "ripped HARD". Thrown off by the confidence of these women in saying something so low-class, I blamed it on my friend. At this point, nobody was sure of who committed this terrible act. This relieved me, and my stomach.
3) Many of my pants have small holes in the crotch area from performing countless power-slides on my knees. Basically, this is when you run and fall to your knees to see how far you can slide. On this specific day, my pants and boxers BOTH ripped. I think you can see where this is going. Long story short, it did not end well. I wouldn't wish this upon even my worst enemy.
4) Over my few years of life, I've experienced many things. I've accumulated much knowledge throughout my travels. One warm August day, I assisted an old woman who worked at the elementary school I attended. I was accompanied by four friends as we helped the elderly woman move books around a storage closet. As she leaned over, a noise emerged from her hind-quarters. In complete disbelief, we all looked at each other for an explanation, wondering who just demolished all of our senses of smell. Who executed this stunt? We realized that the feat was performed by none other than the old woman. How bourgeois! This taught me one of the most useful lessons of my life: never hang out with old people.
5) As a young man, farting is funny. I fart everywhere. I fart at home. I fart in the library. I fart at school. I fart at the store. I fart in the car. I fart out the car window. I fart EVERYWHERE. Think of any place you've ever been. I've probably farted there. However, there is only one situation in which I would not fart. I learned the worst way possible. One Sunday, I was visiting my grandfather in the nursing home. My stomach was an absolute ticking time-bomb that day. As I pushed my grandfather in his wheelchair out of the cafeteria, I let the intestinal gas free. My grandfather and I escaped easily, as we were leaving the room. However, the old people who were left in the room playing bridge and talking about how their kids never visit were trapped. If these elders were just a few years younger, they could have escaped with us. However, being on the brink of death, they were too slow to escape the complete mayhem I had created. It was too late for me to go back and help. All I could do was watch as these men and women cried for it to just end. They didn't want to go home. They didn't care enough to go home. Whatever miniscule amount of life they still had was soiled, along with my pants. Old people are too slow to escape farts. Lesson: never fart around old people unless they deserve it.
Thursday, October 30, 2014
Trip to the Barber Shop
After a long day of sleep and drool,
I finally return home from school.
I look in the mirror, to see if I look cool,
My family tells me I need a haircut.
Why must they be so cruel?
They proceed to tell me I look like a mutt.
This is a real blow to the gut.
I walk away, through the door I have now shut.
I guess they are right.
My hair looks a little like King Tut.
To the barber shop, I take flight.
My hair gave the barber quite a fright.
I tell him "please just cut it right?"
At this, he shows pity on me.
All he says to this is "alright"
Now that my hair is cut, I feel free.
I look in the mirror and shout "WHOOPEEE!"
This was more successful than the Battle of the Philippine Sea.
I look at the barber, and shake his hand.
I'm so happy! (to a tolerable degree)
This haircut is so grand!
I return back home, ready to take a firm stand.
My family looks at me and says "It's so bland"
I stare at the ground, ready to punch an ostrich in the face.
All I can think to say is, "this did not go as planned..."
I finally return home from school.
I look in the mirror, to see if I look cool,
My family tells me I need a haircut.
Why must they be so cruel?
They proceed to tell me I look like a mutt.
This is a real blow to the gut.
I walk away, through the door I have now shut.
I guess they are right.
My hair looks a little like King Tut.
To the barber shop, I take flight.
My hair gave the barber quite a fright.
I tell him "please just cut it right?"
At this, he shows pity on me.
All he says to this is "alright"
Now that my hair is cut, I feel free.
I look in the mirror and shout "WHOOPEEE!"
This was more successful than the Battle of the Philippine Sea.
I look at the barber, and shake his hand.
I'm so happy! (to a tolerable degree)
This haircut is so grand!
I return back home, ready to take a firm stand.
My family looks at me and says "It's so bland"
I stare at the ground, ready to punch an ostrich in the face.
All I can think to say is, "this did not go as planned..."
Thursday, September 4, 2014
PUBLISHED
Hey guys, I was just published on Thought Catalog today! I was also published on Thursday! Check it out! It's up live! http://thoughtcatalog.
Wednesday, August 6, 2014
The Grapes of Smash
Yesterday, I was at the beach reading the Grapes of Wrath. A bee kept flying around my family and me. I decided after about five minutes that I had to do something about the problem. As the bee flew next my sister and landed on her back, I yell for her to run. The bee falls off her back and heads towards me. PLAY DRAMATIC MUSIC HERE https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eYj8ciqAPcA
Not knowing what to do, I firmly grasp the Grapes of Wrath. I fall into a new character. Just as Joad in the Grapes of Wrath, I murder my enemy; in this case, the enemy is a yellowjacket. As I bring the 453 pages of pure beauty to the tiny creature, this bug goes flying(AGAINTS ITS WILL) through the air. I killed the little beast. TURN OFF DRAMATIC MUSIC HERE
I won. Not only did I defeat this bug, but I also used a new bug killing technique. You're welcome. Below is a gif describing the Swiffer Sweeper Slappy Pappy.
Not knowing what to do, I firmly grasp the Grapes of Wrath. I fall into a new character. Just as Joad in the Grapes of Wrath, I murder my enemy; in this case, the enemy is a yellowjacket. As I bring the 453 pages of pure beauty to the tiny creature, this bug goes flying(AGAINTS ITS WILL) through the air. I killed the little beast. TURN OFF DRAMATIC MUSIC HERE
I won. Not only did I defeat this bug, but I also used a new bug killing technique. You're welcome. Below is a gif describing the Swiffer Sweeper Slappy Pappy.
Sunday, July 20, 2014
Bug Killing Techniques
Ever since I was a little boy, I enjoyed discovering new techniques for killing bugs. From chemicals to Nerf guns, I use all I can grab within an arm's reach to slaughter these terrible creatures. This post will describe the numerous techniques I've tested in my years with hopes that you may utilize my tips. Good luck.
Tip 1: Swiffer Sweeper Slappy Pappy
WHAT YOU NEED:
Swiffer Sweeper
Victim on a solid surface(carpet will work, but carcass will be tough to pick up later)
Napkin/paper towel to pick up dead bug
Angry face(this bug deserves it. You know it. I know it. No mercy.)
Strong stomach(dead bug will be bloody and crushed. The bug accepted the outcome. Can you?)
Finally, strong fingers to crush the bug's body when in the napkin. This is the double tap technique.
WHAT YOU MUST DO:
Sneak up on the insect. If the bug is a hopper, sneaking is super essential. Slowly lift the cleaning tool and bring it down quickly on the bug. If you hit the bug, hold position with the Swiffer covering the victim. To ensure that the bug isn't alive, twist the Swiffer until you know it is dead. Good luck.
Tip 2: Airsoft gun/bee-bee gun/ slingshot technique
WHAT YOU NEED:
Self explanatory
WHAT YOU MUST DO:
Sneak is essential. Get ready to get dirty. The bug will explode on impact. Though this is fun because it makes the assassin feel powerful, cleanup almost ruins the fun part. Is it worth it? Good luck.
Tip 3: Fun with chemicals
WHAT YOU NEED:
Hair spray of any kind
Cleaning spray
Really anything in a spray bottle
WHAT YOU MUST DO:
Spray bug. This slows it down. Grab bug. Use double tap technique. Done.
This technique is my personal favorite because it especially works on fliers: bees, flies, etc. Crickets usually jump and freak out the sprayer. With the spray technique, the cricket starts to get sticky and can't jump. ADVICE: after spraying bug, use a toned down version of Swiffer Sweeper Slappy Pappy technique to ensure the bugs death. Unexpected jumps or flights when trying to carry out the double tap technique is horrifying. Good luck.
If you are able to utilize any of these tips, please comment and tell me. If you have any techniques I failed to mention, COMMENT THEM!!! Whoever writes the best technique wins. You don't win anything except bragging rights. Good luck, and happy bug killing/ Lollipop Day!
Stay Classy San Diego
Tip 1: Swiffer Sweeper Slappy Pappy
WHAT YOU NEED:
Swiffer Sweeper
Victim on a solid surface(carpet will work, but carcass will be tough to pick up later)
Napkin/paper towel to pick up dead bug
Angry face(this bug deserves it. You know it. I know it. No mercy.)
Strong stomach(dead bug will be bloody and crushed. The bug accepted the outcome. Can you?)
Finally, strong fingers to crush the bug's body when in the napkin. This is the double tap technique.
WHAT YOU MUST DO:
Sneak up on the insect. If the bug is a hopper, sneaking is super essential. Slowly lift the cleaning tool and bring it down quickly on the bug. If you hit the bug, hold position with the Swiffer covering the victim. To ensure that the bug isn't alive, twist the Swiffer until you know it is dead. Good luck.
Tip 2: Airsoft gun/bee-bee gun/ slingshot technique
WHAT YOU NEED:
Self explanatory
WHAT YOU MUST DO:
Sneak is essential. Get ready to get dirty. The bug will explode on impact. Though this is fun because it makes the assassin feel powerful, cleanup almost ruins the fun part. Is it worth it? Good luck.
Tip 3: Fun with chemicals
WHAT YOU NEED:
Hair spray of any kind
Cleaning spray
Really anything in a spray bottle
WHAT YOU MUST DO:
Spray bug. This slows it down. Grab bug. Use double tap technique. Done.
This technique is my personal favorite because it especially works on fliers: bees, flies, etc. Crickets usually jump and freak out the sprayer. With the spray technique, the cricket starts to get sticky and can't jump. ADVICE: after spraying bug, use a toned down version of Swiffer Sweeper Slappy Pappy technique to ensure the bugs death. Unexpected jumps or flights when trying to carry out the double tap technique is horrifying. Good luck.
If you are able to utilize any of these tips, please comment and tell me. If you have any techniques I failed to mention, COMMENT THEM!!! Whoever writes the best technique wins. You don't win anything except bragging rights. Good luck, and happy bug killing/ Lollipop Day!
Stay Classy San Diego
Shark Attack
I'm too tired to give an intro. It's three in the morning and I just want to get this thought down. This story will be very poorly written, but you'll get the gist of it, hopefully. This is a true story. 100%. It happened last year.
STORY NUMER 12
It was an overcast August day in 2013. My brother, sister, three older male cousins, and I prepare to swim across a channel. The channel is a quarter mile, give or take. We swam this channel a few times before, so we knew that it was impossible to walk across because the water was around 30 feet deep, we later estimated. This channel was located in a grove with people paddle boarding. The general area was Myrtle Beach in South Carolina. We've seen sharks a few times before on previous trips to Myrtle Beach and ignored them. Halfway through the channel, my brother asks, "What are the chances of being eaten by a shark?". My sister tries to comfort him with a simple "Don't worry about it. It won't happen." This didn't comfort him or me. Immediately following this short conversation, a fishing boat on the other side of the channel yells to us. "What are they saying?" my cousin asks. None of us knew for sure, but we later found out they were telling us the tide was coming into the channel from the ocean, which was about 200 yards away. I later looked up that when the tide comes in, the animals caught in the tide come in with it. Think about that.
So, we reach the other side. To our surprise, we see a dead albino shark with its head cut off lying on the sand near the fishing boat. We shake it off; who cares? We decide we should head back and dive back in the water. My sister gets tired and starts doing the backstroke. After about five strokes, she veers off in the wrong direction, going to the side. We try to inform her so she can go in the correct direction, but she can't hear us because of her head being in the water. At this point, we are a quarter of the way back. Suddenly, my parents yell to us to come in. I've never seen my mother so shaken up. My first thought is that lightning struck somewhere nearby and she wanted us to get out. As my brother and I slowly swim through the water, we realize this is more serious. We see a huge fin sticking out of the water, headed towards my sister. I dart in that direction, hoping to divert the giant fish from my sister's direction. When I reach my sister,(alternate, fake ending begins here: I punch the shark in the face, but he managed to bite my foot clean off. The other sharks in the area are drawn to my blood. They try to tear me to bits, but I pull out my magic wand from Hogwarts and Sectum Sempra those great whites in the face, saving my sister and myself, and quite likely the world.) (CONTINUE REAL STORY HERE)(TO UNDERSTAND, WE ARE CONTINUING AT "WHEN I REACH MY SISTER"). I grab her arm and pull her closer to the shore. My parents yell that the shark is behind us. I hear my sister scream. She cut her foot on a rock. Phew. We finally reach the sand and the shark swims away. TEAM MIKE:1 BULL SHARK:0
STAY CLASSY SAN DIEGO
STORY NUMER 12
It was an overcast August day in 2013. My brother, sister, three older male cousins, and I prepare to swim across a channel. The channel is a quarter mile, give or take. We swam this channel a few times before, so we knew that it was impossible to walk across because the water was around 30 feet deep, we later estimated. This channel was located in a grove with people paddle boarding. The general area was Myrtle Beach in South Carolina. We've seen sharks a few times before on previous trips to Myrtle Beach and ignored them. Halfway through the channel, my brother asks, "What are the chances of being eaten by a shark?". My sister tries to comfort him with a simple "Don't worry about it. It won't happen." This didn't comfort him or me. Immediately following this short conversation, a fishing boat on the other side of the channel yells to us. "What are they saying?" my cousin asks. None of us knew for sure, but we later found out they were telling us the tide was coming into the channel from the ocean, which was about 200 yards away. I later looked up that when the tide comes in, the animals caught in the tide come in with it. Think about that.
So, we reach the other side. To our surprise, we see a dead albino shark with its head cut off lying on the sand near the fishing boat. We shake it off; who cares? We decide we should head back and dive back in the water. My sister gets tired and starts doing the backstroke. After about five strokes, she veers off in the wrong direction, going to the side. We try to inform her so she can go in the correct direction, but she can't hear us because of her head being in the water. At this point, we are a quarter of the way back. Suddenly, my parents yell to us to come in. I've never seen my mother so shaken up. My first thought is that lightning struck somewhere nearby and she wanted us to get out. As my brother and I slowly swim through the water, we realize this is more serious. We see a huge fin sticking out of the water, headed towards my sister. I dart in that direction, hoping to divert the giant fish from my sister's direction. When I reach my sister,(alternate, fake ending begins here: I punch the shark in the face, but he managed to bite my foot clean off. The other sharks in the area are drawn to my blood. They try to tear me to bits, but I pull out my magic wand from Hogwarts and Sectum Sempra those great whites in the face, saving my sister and myself, and quite likely the world.) (CONTINUE REAL STORY HERE)(TO UNDERSTAND, WE ARE CONTINUING AT "WHEN I REACH MY SISTER"). I grab her arm and pull her closer to the shore. My parents yell that the shark is behind us. I hear my sister scream. She cut her foot on a rock. Phew. We finally reach the sand and the shark swims away. TEAM MIKE:1 BULL SHARK:0
STAY CLASSY SAN DIEGO
Saturday, July 19, 2014
Emotional Story
Dearest Mike Thoughts For You Fans,
How have you been doing lately? I have been doing mighty fine. Hopefully, all of you child readers out there are enjoying summer. You scallywags are lucky, what with being off for two and a half months. While we adults spend the summer working, you ruffians get to sit there and rot while watching reruns of Jersey Shore. Try to do something more productive, watch midget tossing instead of the Jersey Shore. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bd-sfqzFdmk Watch fully for best results. I digress, here comes story number 11. I must warn you, this story is emotional for all who experienced that day, all four of us. For full effect, I highly suggest playing the music it says to play at the certain times. I highly, highly suggest it. It will help the story change your life.
Story number 11
It was a hot, wet August day. I was with my cousins. We had recently created makeshift fishing poles by attaching a string around a wooden stick. Looking back, we must have been poor.
Anyway, we were walking to a nearby pond. After a long walk that seemed to be forever, we reached the pond and dropped in our lines. Our cousins told us about a snapping turtle that lived in the pond their whole lives. We spent the entire day before trying to catch it. We had to redeem ourselves, for we could only rest when this creature, later named Jaws, was captured. Once we arrived, there were a few other kids our age around the pond. "What are you trying to catch?" I ask. The short one of the group flips me off while the others ignore my question. It hurts on the inside.
My brother caught Jaws that day. We pulled him onto the land, he bit the line and stumbled back into the water. We were angry. This was war.
We stayed at the pond all day and all night. When it was around two PM the next day, my cousin felt a nibble. It was Jaws. We had to knock it out to bring it home, obviously.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eYj8ciqAPcA Listen to this as you read the next paragraph for maximum enjoyment. also, read very slowly and out loud.
We looked for something to put it in shock. I gripped my fishing pole with both hands as I slowly lifted it. Everything felt like slow motion as I quickly bring the stick to the turtles neck. My back arches and arms extend as the stick flies through the air. When the stick is only a few inches from the animal, my right arm slides up the stick toward my left hand. The turtles pupils begin to widen, just as mine do. The other people at the pond all anticipate what is about to happen. My nostrils begin to flare and tongue swirls, licking my lips. My muscles seize up. I bring the stick right to its head; it was out cold. I pick it up by the leg and throw it in the cooler. The drive home is silent. I could've sworn I saw a single tear drip down my brother's cheek on the ride home. Our level of pride was incalculable. This next part, I swear, is true. I specifically remember this part. We took the turtle in our backyard and plopped him on the concrete. Jaws kept trying to escape. I asked if I could knock him out again, but we decided it'd be more fun to try to play with it. He kept crawling away. We had to build a barrier that he wouldn't cross. Everything we used, he'd crawl over. As Jaws crawled over a barrier of pencils, I caught an idea. As I set fire to a stack of crumpled up newspapers surrounding the poor beast, my eyes grow wider and wider and veins begin to stick out. You could see the crazy in my eyes as I bring the Irish green lighter toward a New York Post. The flame begins to grow.(TURN OFF MUSIC BEFORE CONTINUING) (SWITCH TO THIS SONG)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UPW8y6woTBI listen to this for final paragraph
They eyes of Jaws seem to tear up, as I failed to take wind into account. The wind blows the flame directly into the animal. His slimy and rough skin turns crispy and burnt. As we look into the fire and the animal burns, I felt regret, yet also happiness. We conquered the beast. In that moment, all else in the world fades out except the burning carcass of the animal we had been hunting for so many years. Everything turns black around us. All I see is the turtle, almost appearing to have a spotlight on him, like the star of a show. But not today. Jaws may have once reigned supreme. But that day, as we all swayed back and forth with our arms on each other's shoulders watching the flaming corpse of the magnificent snapping turtle, we all felt the victory.
(FOR FULL EFFECT, FINISH SONG WITH EYES CLOSED AND TRY TO CAPTURE HOW WE FELT)
How have you been doing lately? I have been doing mighty fine. Hopefully, all of you child readers out there are enjoying summer. You scallywags are lucky, what with being off for two and a half months. While we adults spend the summer working, you ruffians get to sit there and rot while watching reruns of Jersey Shore. Try to do something more productive, watch midget tossing instead of the Jersey Shore. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bd-sfqzFdmk Watch fully for best results. I digress, here comes story number 11. I must warn you, this story is emotional for all who experienced that day, all four of us. For full effect, I highly suggest playing the music it says to play at the certain times. I highly, highly suggest it. It will help the story change your life.
Story number 11
It was a hot, wet August day. I was with my cousins. We had recently created makeshift fishing poles by attaching a string around a wooden stick. Looking back, we must have been poor.
Anyway, we were walking to a nearby pond. After a long walk that seemed to be forever, we reached the pond and dropped in our lines. Our cousins told us about a snapping turtle that lived in the pond their whole lives. We spent the entire day before trying to catch it. We had to redeem ourselves, for we could only rest when this creature, later named Jaws, was captured. Once we arrived, there were a few other kids our age around the pond. "What are you trying to catch?" I ask. The short one of the group flips me off while the others ignore my question. It hurts on the inside.
My brother caught Jaws that day. We pulled him onto the land, he bit the line and stumbled back into the water. We were angry. This was war.
We stayed at the pond all day and all night. When it was around two PM the next day, my cousin felt a nibble. It was Jaws. We had to knock it out to bring it home, obviously.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eYj8ciqAPcA Listen to this as you read the next paragraph for maximum enjoyment. also, read very slowly and out loud.
We looked for something to put it in shock. I gripped my fishing pole with both hands as I slowly lifted it. Everything felt like slow motion as I quickly bring the stick to the turtles neck. My back arches and arms extend as the stick flies through the air. When the stick is only a few inches from the animal, my right arm slides up the stick toward my left hand. The turtles pupils begin to widen, just as mine do. The other people at the pond all anticipate what is about to happen. My nostrils begin to flare and tongue swirls, licking my lips. My muscles seize up. I bring the stick right to its head; it was out cold. I pick it up by the leg and throw it in the cooler. The drive home is silent. I could've sworn I saw a single tear drip down my brother's cheek on the ride home. Our level of pride was incalculable. This next part, I swear, is true. I specifically remember this part. We took the turtle in our backyard and plopped him on the concrete. Jaws kept trying to escape. I asked if I could knock him out again, but we decided it'd be more fun to try to play with it. He kept crawling away. We had to build a barrier that he wouldn't cross. Everything we used, he'd crawl over. As Jaws crawled over a barrier of pencils, I caught an idea. As I set fire to a stack of crumpled up newspapers surrounding the poor beast, my eyes grow wider and wider and veins begin to stick out. You could see the crazy in my eyes as I bring the Irish green lighter toward a New York Post. The flame begins to grow.(TURN OFF MUSIC BEFORE CONTINUING) (SWITCH TO THIS SONG)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UPW8y6woTBI listen to this for final paragraph
They eyes of Jaws seem to tear up, as I failed to take wind into account. The wind blows the flame directly into the animal. His slimy and rough skin turns crispy and burnt. As we look into the fire and the animal burns, I felt regret, yet also happiness. We conquered the beast. In that moment, all else in the world fades out except the burning carcass of the animal we had been hunting for so many years. Everything turns black around us. All I see is the turtle, almost appearing to have a spotlight on him, like the star of a show. But not today. Jaws may have once reigned supreme. But that day, as we all swayed back and forth with our arms on each other's shoulders watching the flaming corpse of the magnificent snapping turtle, we all felt the victory.
(FOR FULL EFFECT, FINISH SONG WITH EYES CLOSED AND TRY TO CAPTURE HOW WE FELT)
Sunday, March 23, 2014
NHL 2001
I think we can agree that NHL 2001 holds the position of best video game ever made. With the horrifying graphics and the most unrealistic goals, NHL 2001 continues to amuse all, even 13 years later.
As in all of the NHL video games, a fighting feature has been incorporated. When two players disagree over who hit whom or what happened in the previous play, the two hockey athletes begin to thoughtlessly whale on each other until the other guy hits the floor. The winner of the fight just stands there. Literally.
NOT AN ACTUAL NHL 2001 FIGHT
Along with the unrealistic fighting comes a supernatural speed. One Player has the ability to use a speed boost. Yes, at first this sounds pretty normal. The player can go fast for a minute or two. No. This means a player can move around like the little kid from the Incredibles for an unlimited amount of time. This basically means that you cannot comprehend what is occurring on your television screen without complete focus.
ALSO NOT ACTUAL NHL 2001 PLAYER
You may start to think now about how this game holds such a high reputation with all these "flaws". You see, these "flaws" are not actually flaws. These characteristics set apart NHL 2001 from NHL 2014. Sports video games nowadays attempt to enhance the graphics as much as possible and basically make the game as real as possible. I think I can stand for the whole human race when I say, "YAWN!!!!". These characteristics make the game awesome. Finally, one holds the opportunity to score ridiculous goals and skate at ridiculous speeds that EA sports is trying to demolish. For example, in 2001, the fighting in the NHL video games was 3rd person. Yes, this looked absolutely ridiculous and exciting. In the new games, the fighting is 1st person. This is to make everything more realistic. EA sports wants all their players to have a feel for what being on the ice is really like. I DON'T GIVE HALF A NUMBER TWO PENCIL ABOUT WHAT BEING ON THE ICE IS REALLY LIKE. ALL I WANT TO DO IS TRAVEL AT IMPOSSIBLE SPEEDS AND KNOCK OPPOSING PLAYERS DOWN FOR MY ENJOYMENT.
THIS IS HOW I FEEL ABOUT NEW NHL GAMES
As in all of the NHL video games, a fighting feature has been incorporated. When two players disagree over who hit whom or what happened in the previous play, the two hockey athletes begin to thoughtlessly whale on each other until the other guy hits the floor. The winner of the fight just stands there. Literally.
Along with the unrealistic fighting comes a supernatural speed. One Player has the ability to use a speed boost. Yes, at first this sounds pretty normal. The player can go fast for a minute or two. No. This means a player can move around like the little kid from the Incredibles for an unlimited amount of time. This basically means that you cannot comprehend what is occurring on your television screen without complete focus.
You may start to think now about how this game holds such a high reputation with all these "flaws". You see, these "flaws" are not actually flaws. These characteristics set apart NHL 2001 from NHL 2014. Sports video games nowadays attempt to enhance the graphics as much as possible and basically make the game as real as possible. I think I can stand for the whole human race when I say, "YAWN!!!!". These characteristics make the game awesome. Finally, one holds the opportunity to score ridiculous goals and skate at ridiculous speeds that EA sports is trying to demolish. For example, in 2001, the fighting in the NHL video games was 3rd person. Yes, this looked absolutely ridiculous and exciting. In the new games, the fighting is 1st person. This is to make everything more realistic. EA sports wants all their players to have a feel for what being on the ice is really like. I DON'T GIVE HALF A NUMBER TWO PENCIL ABOUT WHAT BEING ON THE ICE IS REALLY LIKE. ALL I WANT TO DO IS TRAVEL AT IMPOSSIBLE SPEEDS AND KNOCK OPPOSING PLAYERS DOWN FOR MY ENJOYMENT.
THIS IS HOW I FEEL ABOUT NEW NHL GAMES
ALSO HOW I FEEL ABOUT NEW NHL GAMES
This is what I want to do to new NHL games
Thanks for reading guys! Happy Saint Paddy's Week!
Dear Modern Day Technology
I think we can agree that you, modern day technology, are an enormous pile of hippo feces. Every day whenever anything happens, you assist a child shunning the people in their presence by watching strangers twerk on Vine or something. Any and every conversation these days is made up of two major components: the person trying to make conversation and the person idly scrolling through their news feed. The person on their phone might as well just say this. 
I will never see the purpose in this. As a child, when I wasn't killing henchman in GoldenEye or watching SpongeBob, I was outside playing games. I was acting like a child. At times, I may have been too childish.
Children these days occasionally go outside. Most times, they locate a shady area so as not to have glares on their $1,000 IPads. Why, World? Why must we ignore our surroundings to feel comforted. You are the equivalent of cans being dragged along as a "Just Married" car drives by. At first, all is happy until that terrible scraping sound occurs. You know what I think of you, technology?
I will never see the purpose in this. As a child, when I wasn't killing henchman in GoldenEye or watching SpongeBob, I was outside playing games. I was acting like a child. At times, I may have been too childish.
Children these days occasionally go outside. Most times, they locate a shady area so as not to have glares on their $1,000 IPads. Why, World? Why must we ignore our surroundings to feel comforted. You are the equivalent of cans being dragged along as a "Just Married" car drives by. At first, all is happy until that terrible scraping sound occurs. You know what I think of you, technology?
Friday, January 3, 2014
Teachers
"Ok, Freshman, Sophmores... Settle down. This next award goes out to the members of the swim team. We have had a wonderful season. There were fifteen swimmers and two divers. Out of this group, eleventeen have been accepted into Varsity. Please hold your applause until all names are called. The teacher proceeds to list the names of the students who had participated in fall sports.
"Did he just say 'eleventeen'? " a kid asks next to me.
I look around while I reply "He couldn't have..." I say. I continue to peer around too see everybody giggling. "Scratch that. He did...."
"Did he just say 'eleventeen'? " a kid asks next to me.
I look around while I reply "He couldn't have..." I say. I continue to peer around too see everybody giggling. "Scratch that. He did...."
10 years later
High School Reunion
"Hey, Mike. Remember that time Mr./Mrs. ------- said 'eleventeen'?" a former fellow student asks.
"HAHAHA YES!"
Monday, December 30, 2013
Barber Shops
Today, I went to the barber shop to get a haircut. The price is one of the cheapest in the area. This means it is a crowded area at most times. Today was my weirdest experience at this shop, and I've been going since I had hair.
It started out like a normal trip to the barber shop. However, it escalated very quickly.
During this story, I am in a chair waiting to get my haircut. A little boy was in the chair closest to me getting his hair cut. As the barber turns away to get the scissors, the expression on his face his neutral. As the barber turns to face him, he makes a face like he is horrified. I watched this for a few minutes. I studied his expressions and why he made them. Over much time and research(about 3 minutes), I discovered that he was only doing this to be a pain in the neck to his mom. He just wanted to annoy her for getting his hair cut. Really? This is what the child looked like when his mission was a success and his mom became angry.
What happened next was probably weirdest. I saw an old, bald man enter the shop. Let's all take a moment and think about that sentence. Yes. The barber wasn't sure what to do. He accepted the man into sitting in the chair. I think it was just for the money, but he pretended to give the old man a haircut. Literally, he combed the old man's shiny scalp and went over it with a razor a few times. What has the world come to?
Next, I went to my barber to get my haircut. Now, I speak some broken Spanish. I know a few words here and there. I can piece together a few sentences. Ok, now back to the story. My barber loves my brother. Every time I go to him, he asks about my brother. My brother is a saint. He is literally an angel to everybody who meets him. So, as everybody knows, barbers always speak a foreign language, making us skeptical of who they are talking about. Today, my barber said, "Me gusta su hermano mayor más.". This means, "I like his older brother more."
Thanks, Mr. Barber.
Sunday, December 29, 2013
Things I Hate
You know those things that you just despise, and they consistently happen to you? I can name a million. I've decided to make a list.
1. I hate those websites that automatically play a video as soon as you enter it. The other day, I wanted to discover the rates of rental equipment on a paintball website. as soon as I enter, I am greeted with a video of a sweaty man talking about his family paintball business. Really? Really? NOBODY CARES.
2. I hate when I am carrying a load of stuff, whatever it is, and I drop ONE thing. I lean over to pick it up. Another thing or two falls. This process continues for about 30 seconds. Eventually, I grow impatient and throw the objects on the ground. It looks something like this.
3. I hate laptop chargers than constantly fall out. As I write this, I struggle to not smash this laptop on the ground, similarly to the picture above. I wish I was joking.
4. I hate when I get a present and the plastic around it is ridiculously difficult to cut open. This frustrates me to the absolute maximum. If you don't want somebody to steal it, put it in those cage things. This way, when somebody decides to buy the product, they can actually use the product they have purchased. Otherwise, the customer attempts to shoot Ipads with real bullets just to open them. This is the final product.
Sunday, December 22, 2013
Vegetarians 101
"No, I can't have meat. I'm a vegetarian." she says.
This is a way of life I will never understand. Animals were put here to be killed, placed in an oven, and maliciously shoved into our mouths to satisfy hunger. Meanwhile, we have vegetarians and vegans who believe this wrong.
"Why are you a vegetarian?" I ask her.
"I believe that killing animals is wrong. They wouldn't kill us if they could think! I am not strong enough to know that I am eating an animal when I have a burger."
"You know, you would be strong if you had protein. You know where protein comes from, right? What is a large, natural source of protein?"
"Shut up..." she says with a chuckle.
The waitress appears through the crowded restaurant.
"Alright, what can I get you guys. Our special tonight is the veggie burger. It is only 3 dollars."
"Why is your special a veggie burger? Why not like a soup or something? Everybody wants meat, right?"
Everybody in the restaurant goes silent immediately. On the other side of the restaurant I hear a glass fall. Every eye in the place is fixated on me.
"It's national Vegetarian Day..." the waitress says quietly. "The special is the only item we've sold today.
"I'll have the special." she says.
"Not going to happen. I will have the All-American Steak with extra bacon. I mean literally. Throw on all the bacon you have, I don't mind the price. Also, We will have the mini burgers with bacon on the side as our appetizer. Thanks very much." I say.
I sure showed those vegetarian turd faces.
I ate all the meat. I left a tip of some table salt and a nickel.
#fightthevegetarians
#leadtheway
#meatrules
#eataburgertoday
#revolution
#teammike
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
Saturday, November 23, 2013
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Story Number 8: Cufflinks
"Dude, I'm telling you those are cufflinks, alright?" I say, getting annoyed. I am talking with a fellow student. We are both wearing suits. I am talking to him about the cufflinks on our jackets. He doesn't believe me when I tell him that their proper title is 'cufflinks'.
"They're called buttons! I'm right" he strikes back. I swear, I want to slap some sense in this kid. To this day, if I saw that guy anywhere, I'd steal his soda and drink it. I would then proceed to steal his phone and take selfies on Snapchat and send them to everybody in his contacts.
"I swear man, I want to slap some sense into you. I guarantee you that in 20 years, if I saw you anywhere, I would steal your soda and drink it. I would then proceed to steal your phone and take selfies on Snapchat and send it to all your contacts!" I begin to raise my voice.
He gasps so loudly. Everybody goes silent. "You wouldn't!" he retorts. "I will hunt you down and slappy pappy you so hard in your face that you won't be able to smile for a week!" I yell back. "What?" he asks, not being able to understand my slang. "I will knock you right in the kisser and leave you hangin' with a lollipop in your mouth!" I yell, increasing the slang factor. "Wh- What?" he asks again. "Say what again! I dare you- I DOUBLE dare you!" I yell back.
This is escalating very quickly. Class hasn't even begun yet. Suddenly, the bell rings. The teacher, Mr. Teacher bursts in. "Afternoon, class. Today we will learn about shapes!" he says, pulling a green wooden triangle out of his bag and smiling. "Mike thinks these are cufflinks! " the kid yells out in the quiet room, pointing to the alleged cufflinks.
The expression on Mr. Teacher's face slowly disappears as his eyes grow larger and larger. Suddenly, I am looking at the crazy eyes. He begins to shake his head. "Come after school later and clean my classroom. I want every piece of paper off the ground."
My thoughts
1. Get a vacuum.
2. They are cufflinks. I know it. You know it. You just wanted a clean room. Once again, vacuum.
3. That's it.
"They're called buttons! I'm right" he strikes back. I swear, I want to slap some sense in this kid. To this day, if I saw that guy anywhere, I'd steal his soda and drink it. I would then proceed to steal his phone and take selfies on Snapchat and send them to everybody in his contacts.
"I swear man, I want to slap some sense into you. I guarantee you that in 20 years, if I saw you anywhere, I would steal your soda and drink it. I would then proceed to steal your phone and take selfies on Snapchat and send it to all your contacts!" I begin to raise my voice.
He gasps so loudly. Everybody goes silent. "You wouldn't!" he retorts. "I will hunt you down and slappy pappy you so hard in your face that you won't be able to smile for a week!" I yell back. "What?" he asks, not being able to understand my slang. "I will knock you right in the kisser and leave you hangin' with a lollipop in your mouth!" I yell, increasing the slang factor. "Wh- What?" he asks again. "Say what again! I dare you- I DOUBLE dare you!" I yell back.
This is escalating very quickly. Class hasn't even begun yet. Suddenly, the bell rings. The teacher, Mr. Teacher bursts in. "Afternoon, class. Today we will learn about shapes!" he says, pulling a green wooden triangle out of his bag and smiling. "Mike thinks these are cufflinks! " the kid yells out in the quiet room, pointing to the alleged cufflinks.
The expression on Mr. Teacher's face slowly disappears as his eyes grow larger and larger. Suddenly, I am looking at the crazy eyes. He begins to shake his head. "Come after school later and clean my classroom. I want every piece of paper off the ground."
My thoughts
1. Get a vacuum.
2. They are cufflinks. I know it. You know it. You just wanted a clean room. Once again, vacuum.
3. That's it.
Tuesday, October 29, 2013
The Accident
I have always wanted to go laser tagging. When this story take place, it was before I've ever gone. I was a whole lot younger. I was in this club and we all signed up to go laser tagging one Wednesday night. I signed up on a Friday night for the event the following Wednesday. On the next day, it was a Saturday. It was my cousin's first birthday.
We were in a hilly region. I decided that I could ride my unicycle down one of the hills. Of course, I did. I am awesome at that stuff. I can juggle four balls. Anyway, my brother wanted to try. While he was doing that, I decided to try riding down on my rip stick, which is basically a two-wheeled skateboard. '
I have very good balance, as I'm sure you have pieced together by now. However, on the way down, I realized I was gaining an enormous amount of speed. Seriously, I was booking it. I quickly realize that I cannot break. If I continue riding straight, I choose a main road with traffic(death). I can make a left, but I see a pothole. If I go there, I choose being flung 20 feet(death). My other option is jumping it(also maybe death). I go for the jump. That's all I remember until...
"Ouch..." I mumble as I am stabbed with an I-V needle. I am in the emergency room. They are moving me from one test to another. I have a cone on my neck in case one of my tests came back positive. As they roll me, I look into the mirrors on the corner ceiling of each hallway.
Yikes... That'll leave a mark... My right side of my face is the size of a watermelon, bruised, swollen, and bloody. My tests eventually all come back as best as they could for my accident. The only problems was a solid amount of blood loss and a concussion.
As normal procedure, the nurses ask me questions about the year, date, et cetera, because of my head injury. "What date is it, Michael?" a nurse asks with a pen and clipboard. "July 4th, 1776." I say. "Freedom....." I add, barely audible.
The nurse looks at my mother. "Nah, I'm just messing. It's October 15th." I say. My mom looks relieved. "Good. Anyway, you cannot go to school this week. You have to stay home and play video games. I don't want you doing any sort of mental thinking other than killing zombies, or whatever you kids do these days." she says. "Is shooting other people with lasers in real life sufficient?" I ask, still hoping for laser tag. The nurse simply chuckles and leaves.
Damn.
EPILOGUE
2 years later, I went laser tagging. I accidently hit a small child in the face with my gun. K/O?
We were in a hilly region. I decided that I could ride my unicycle down one of the hills. Of course, I did. I am awesome at that stuff. I can juggle four balls. Anyway, my brother wanted to try. While he was doing that, I decided to try riding down on my rip stick, which is basically a two-wheeled skateboard. '
I have very good balance, as I'm sure you have pieced together by now. However, on the way down, I realized I was gaining an enormous amount of speed. Seriously, I was booking it. I quickly realize that I cannot break. If I continue riding straight, I choose a main road with traffic(death). I can make a left, but I see a pothole. If I go there, I choose being flung 20 feet(death). My other option is jumping it(also maybe death). I go for the jump. That's all I remember until...
"Ouch..." I mumble as I am stabbed with an I-V needle. I am in the emergency room. They are moving me from one test to another. I have a cone on my neck in case one of my tests came back positive. As they roll me, I look into the mirrors on the corner ceiling of each hallway.
Yikes... That'll leave a mark... My right side of my face is the size of a watermelon, bruised, swollen, and bloody. My tests eventually all come back as best as they could for my accident. The only problems was a solid amount of blood loss and a concussion.
As normal procedure, the nurses ask me questions about the year, date, et cetera, because of my head injury. "What date is it, Michael?" a nurse asks with a pen and clipboard. "July 4th, 1776." I say. "Freedom....." I add, barely audible.
The nurse looks at my mother. "Nah, I'm just messing. It's October 15th." I say. My mom looks relieved. "Good. Anyway, you cannot go to school this week. You have to stay home and play video games. I don't want you doing any sort of mental thinking other than killing zombies, or whatever you kids do these days." she says. "Is shooting other people with lasers in real life sufficient?" I ask, still hoping for laser tag. The nurse simply chuckles and leaves.
Damn.
EPILOGUE
2 years later, I went laser tagging. I accidently hit a small child in the face with my gun. K/O?
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