» Pointless Experiments

Capillary action.
After being told by an older relative that my ginger cousin, bane of my 13 year old existence, had been conceived on the hand-me-down water bed in my room, my best friend and I decided it had to go. We were smart enough to know that two eighth-graders couldn't pick up a half ton king size water bed and tote it out to the curb before my parents got back from the store. So we decided to empty out all that heavy water first. Calling on something we'd seen in some science class, we thought that once we got the water flowing it would continue up and out the window as long as the stream wasn't broken. It made sense at the time and I also blame that jumping water fountain thing at Epcot.
Of course we read the warning sticker near the nozzle on the corner of the bag, but couldn't find the tube to attach and drain it properly. Cut to a half hour's worth of coordinated jumping and pulling to get that corner flopped over a low windowsill over some bushes in the backyard.
The nozzle wouldn't open. After looking over our shoulders we let out the dreaded F word and had a great idea. She went outside and viciously stabbed the bag with a steak knife while I stood in the middle of my bedroom watching in horror as the bag slithered back inside and 180 gallons of fetid water tsunamied everything.

My grandmother found us ten minutes later, frantically pulling the carpet up; every sheet, towel, blanket and rug we could find in the house lying in a soaking wet pile in the hallway. It was such a monumental disaster that she, fearing we would be murdered, took the heat. She told my parents she dropped a lit cigarette on the bed. And she stuck with that story in the face of my Dad's perfectly reasonable doubt, not once in seven years telling him the truth.
Conclusion? No matter how much it squicks you out to think of adults having sex in your bed, science and knives are not the answer.
(Sun 27th Jul 2008, 21:49, More)

» Good Advice

So says King Drug
When I was in my early twenties I decided it was time to stop pussyfooting around and get down to the serious business of drug use.
Very late one weekday night, after it was in my system but before anything had kicked in, the fella who I looked up to, the one whose number was programmed into my cell under "It's Ok." the better to reassure me when things got scary. That guy leaned in close and with a big smile said, "Remember, it's all about staying on top of knowing what you need."
(Mon 24th May 2010, 23:03, More)