After cooking my dinner of fancy gourmet chicken mozzarella ravioli topped with a nice Bolognese sauce, I went to fix myself a glass of iced tea (no alcohol for Steve). As I was filling my glass with ice, the inevitable renegade cube made its attempt at a bouncing escape. Since I was holding the glass in one hand and the proper number of cubes in the other, it seemed this guy would make it all the way to the floor, which is a loss of fifteen cool points. But at the last second, I flipped my right foot up hacky-sack style, and bip. Right into the glass. Then I leaned forward, looked down into said glass, and barked, "Hah!"
Unfortunately, as I was taking glass and plate over to the couch (breaking my own rule about Italian food in the living room), one of my fancy gourmet chicken mozzarella raviolis smothered in a nice Bolognese did a one-and-a-half gainer right onto my beige carpet.
The spot is almost completely gone, the ravioli is cold, and the lesson will soon be forgotten.
"...the question is not whether we will be extremists, but what kind of extremists we will be."
Martin Luther King, Jr., Letter from Birmingham Jail
for like ten nanoseconds. Plus, it was the side of my foot, not the bottom. But yes, there was a certain amount of foot funk in my tea. :)
I used to hack at a sack once in a while. Never was any good.
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