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Profile for LakAttack:
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I lurked here for a long time. Now I've joined. I don't have many interesting things to say. I like alcohol. I have tits. I am not tall. I wear glasses. That sums it up.

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» Body Horror

The birth of Lak Junior
Not a horror for me as much as a horror for Mr. LakAttack. Or really any guy who has watched their kid be born.

Well, if you're one of those people that actually are allowed in the room for those sorts of things. I was at one of those neato new style hospitals where they were really careful about who they let in the room, but anybody you did allow seemed to instantly become part of the helper crew. That would just be poor Mr. LakAttack, who in lieu of stirrups, was my "right leg holder/right foot brace for when I pushed" And got a very very front row show for the spectacle. Doc took a single look at that kid's head size and said "nope!!" and grabbed some huge surgical snips and made him a proper exit. So he got to watch my special parts get sliced up, then a purple slimy crying monster emerged. I think he looked at the wrong time and also saw the placenta. Poor guy. The best part about having the kid is you don't have to see it happen. I did have the courage to look at my stitches one time though the day after, but it was also after I had stopped putting ice on it for a few hours. Yeah. Don't get a mirror and have a look see. That'd be my advice.
(Mon 15th Jul 2013, 5:48, More)

» Ouch!

Got a few, but this one is the most fun.
It's all comical, no lasting damage people.
December 13th, 2002. I'm 15 back then, just turned it yesterday! I have my birthday money, time to go off to the local arts and crafts store to purchase one of my last Christmas gifts, a Sketchbook for my sister. She's quite the artist, always inspired me, and I always would sneak into her room and look through her drawings. I noticed she was running out of pages, and I figured by Christmas she's be right due for a new one. I never had a ton of money, so it seemed the sensible present to give.
The local Craft store I prefer is a good mile away, and I had to wait until the parents were out since I wasn't suppose to be out that late in the weather. So I was about to set out and a good friend rang. She was a good person, a bit overly spirited, but fine. She came with. It was a tad snowy in Western New York, little cold. We traversed the massive snowbanks in parking lots and snowed in sidewalks until we got across from the shopping plaza that had the store. Time to cross near the light or it's dangerous! Union Road is at that point, about 5 lanes due to the emerging turning lane. We start to cross, she thinks "excellent, let's skip across" Grabs my arm. I was about 80 lbs then, and she was tall like an amazon. I was dragged, no balance whatsoever. There was one lane I could not see. I planned to stop there and look in the solid line of traffic (red light had stopped traffic good) to see if it was safe. We had not told each other our plans, she went across the street dragging me like a rag doll. She freaks, lets go and throws up her arms in surprise.
This second here kinda felt long. She let go and I was dragging on one foot in a half hop trying to catch up with her. So I'm now falling forward uncontrollably. I turn the umbrella I'm holding up like it'll save me like merry poppins as I fall into the 5th lane, the turning lane.

thwunk. I hit the car. I hit the pavement. I bounce twice. The whole time I manage to keep the umbrella upright. It's my mom's; she can't know I took it.
Friend freaks, thinks I'm dead, despite my ninja-roll off the pavement and onto the soggy ground. I crawl and stand upright. A distraught 50-something handicapped woman that hit me is crying and trying to call the police for my sake. Friend is HYSTERICAL. I thank the woman for her concern but I'm fine. Grab my friend's arm and hobble off.
I feel okay, no big deal. But as I walk into the plaza, something isn't right, can't breathe. I'm hobbling a bit, not worries, just a limp. My knee is swelling and my hip joint is a tad sore. I get into the art store and walk towards the sketchbooks. I realize something very important. I've been in the snow, the freezing cold for over an hour now. I'm not wearing a coat, just a heavy shirt. I realize why I was not hurt. I was totally numb from the cold. In the course of about 10 seconds, I'm overrun with burning throbbing pain all over. I shuffle to the register, buy the sketchbook, and shuffle out. Spend about 10 minutes in a snow bank on my side, and part ways with my friend at the same intersection where I was hit. She's the opposite way from there. Walk home was REAL slow, I had a bad limp. And each breath felt like a kick in the ribs. Turns out when I got home it was a lot worse than anticipated. I hid the gift and went in the basement to use the computer (Ironically, to read newsletter. Yes, I lurked for 8 years.)
Wow, I felt on FIRE in normal temps. Turns out I bruised a great deal of ribs(and my ass was purple) and permanently knackered my right hip and knee to a point. Tried to hide it from parents and limped around clutching a cue-stick from the billiard table for a few days. Luckily, my parents for some INSANE reason thought I was faking despite never having any injuries in the past of note. School on monday was rough. People chalked it up to "Friday the 13th!!"
No major lasting effects 8 years later. Knee pops when I stand up with no pain, only lasting problem is that my hip causes severe pain at some times when I sit or stand, or during sex when I'm up top. So I guess my friend indirectly fudges the old sex life a bit. My man has to usually shift me manually because I'm locked in the painful position.
Thinking back on the pain, it did hurt a lot. I only remember the two bounces on the pavement, not much of hitting the hood. But the cold negated most of it. Did tell my parents of it. ....last year. They yelled at me for shopping without them. Not for the accident. Still never saw a doc. They're a bit prickish about old injuries.

Appologies for length. No cock jokes. First QOTW post in the 9 or so years I've been around here.
(Tue 3rd Aug 2010, 11:26, More)

» Hoarding

Mum is not a full hoarder, but a pack-rat.
My mother is a bit of a pack rat. She has a few things that separate her from a hoarder. Her sis is a hoarder. Book cases in the basement full of bubble bath containers kind of clutter. But Mum's just poor at getting rid of things.
I recently had to move back into my parent's house with the Mr. and our baby due to money problems. They gave us their room, and took my old room, which was nice since my room was smaller. But of course, this means I must also share the room with items she does not wish to part with. In this room? One fancy roll-top desk with no chair, full of stationary, coins, and disposable cameras. A large sectional computer desk (yes, two desks in this room) that luckily, they let me set up one of our computers at. Sadly we can't use the drawers or cupboards attached to it. There is also a small armoire full of sweaters, a jewelry armoire, and FOUR book cases containing 500-600 books. Luckily, this room boasts a gorgeous and large closet. Unluckily, she still uses this closet, and my father has cleared out most of his closet in their room for us to use.
This is purely our own room, there are other places in the house where we wish we had more space as well. Giving us the house for the summer since they spend it out of town at their summer home, I was hoping we could have more of a chance to make ourselves comfy. But she really is rigidly against our attempt to streamline our temporary arrangement.
Her fridge is stocked with wines that she doesn't drink, her freezer has forgotten pieces of meat from 2009 in them, her pantry has more cans of food than ever needed for two middle aged, non-obese people, and the attic has relics from my childhood and my elder sister's childhood, as well as the basement being filled with old toys and extra clothes that somebody needs, possibly charity, possibly some for my son and nephew, but not her.
I always offer ways I can rearrange the house to fit my computer desk in my own room, while still finding useable places for her books. I offer to go through the toys in the basement, some of which have become flood damaged and need to be cleaned or destroyed, some of which need to be saved for my child, and some need to be donated to a local charity. Though most of the space is taken up by the large amounts of old, sometimes 80s era clothing that nobody wears or needs. Which are occasionally washed and re-piled then forgotten and gradually sorted through, a small bag passing to charity after being cleaned, the rest waiting until it gets musty and dank in the basement once again, requiring another cleaning as the pile grows but seldom shrinks.
The one thing I do not mind is her love of plants. Every free window in the house is full of healthy, though slightly mismanaged plants due to the sheer amount of them and the fact she's away for the summer months. And is nice of my mother and my father to let me stay, so I fear I can't be too harsh on her item saving tendencies. It's rough not having a job and being forced to move across country to have a place to stay, and she didn't have to be so accommodating. I just wish she could realize that she does not need to save entire newspaper pages if all she needs is the small, clippable recipe on it, or that maybe she does not need over 1000 books total, though she has read all of them, and does re read most of them slowly throughout the years.
I am very glad she recycles. For all the cans of food she has in the pantry and newspaper articles she has saved, she does recycle everything she doesn't need(need in her eyes), she does eventually donate clothes that are old and no longer fit, provided she phones and gets the "yes mother PLEASE GET RID OF IT" from the daughter it belonged to. I just feel a little boxed out from this house, and it's the one I grew up in. Haven't lived here for 6 years and now I feel a bit of a stranger.

I just hope she'll at least let me move a book case or something, so I can at least properly feed my addiction to technology and set up mine and the Mr.'s computers and LAN them together. So I can go back to doing here what I did as a teen, being reclusive in my bedroom at my computer, ignoring the problem and lurking on B3ta as I used to..
Though to be fair, I am a video games collector and I have reserved one, single book case in which I have many games, many of which I(and of course the Mr.) have played and enjoyed. But now that I have the kid, it feels that those items are slowly becoming a useless hoarding items too. Though to go with the base of the QOTW, I DO have Windows 95 on floppy, of anybody needs it. My parents kept it. They use Linux.
(Mon 7th May 2012, 8:14, More)

» Worst Person for the Job

Todd Akin
U.S. representative of Missouri's 2nd district, and genius that thinks women can magically prevent pregnancy in cases of legitimate rape, is on two subcommittees that are part of the committee on Science, Space, and Technology. Luckily neither are biology related, but a gaffe of that calibur would suggest possibly this seat would be better filled by another. Also, I believe he does not believe in global warming. One of his two subcommittee seats? Energy and Environment.
(Mon 10th Sep 2012, 0:39, More)