lsipher said:
Now you gotta tell Aragorn since I admitted that humiliation.
- Lu
GrayCloak said:
There you go Aragorn...ANYTHING you say now will sound nice and normal....
Sorry y'all, but I don't think your stories are quite as self-deprecating as my own(though TG's probly comes closest, lol!)...
Anyhow, I figger I'll go ahead and tell, cuz if this keeps building, y'all will be expecting a much funnier story than what mine actually is(may be you already are...).
Ok, so, when I was between the ages of 5 & 7, when I was still homeschooled, and lived 2 houses down from another homeschooling family, who, at the time, had 5 kids (now they have 8), we usually played in the afternoons. So, one day, we decided to play Cowboys and Indians.
Somehow, I ended up on the "Indian" side, to my great dissappointment, I'm sure(I had the whole cowboy outfit: boots, two six-shooters with holsters--Lone Ranger styel!, hat, vest, pieces of leather you could velcro to your jeans, and a bandanna (which, I believe, is the one I currently use on occasion)). As such, after the teams were called, I ran into my house, stripped down nekked(yes, that's how
real Texans say "naked"!), and began to tie 2 bandannas about my waist--one in front, the other in back.
(Now, as I've mentioned in the Homechooling thread, I was ne'er in the Boy Scouts--ya know, the people that teach kids how to tie
good knots, amongst other things...)
So, after having finished with the two bandannas, I promptly ran outside, whooping and hollering for all I was worth, yelling, "I'm an Indian" over & over again. About the time I turned the corner into the front yard where everyone was, my knots gave out on me. They just quit, right there--they'd had enough.
And, so, there I was, 6-ish, nekked as a jaybird in my neighbours' front yard, with 2 girls(one just barely older than me; the other about 2 years younger), and 3 other guys(one of whom was my brother, another who's about 4 years older than me, and one who's about 3 years younger than me), and all of us ready to play shoot-em-up.
Except, of course, for myself, who had just lost *all* his clothes.
And that's probably the most humiliating story I have to tell about myself.