Midnight, Saturday/Sunday, Corvallis, OR, a large group of folk want to play night frisbee. On the Courthouse lawn. No one cared. Really. The security guard checked the nearby bushes for any lingering bad guys & threw the frisbee back into the circle when it landed nearby... We even recruited 4 (tipsy) strangers to join in for a toss or two ♥ It was a beautiful and amazing thing.
I don't play group frisbee. I don't play because I have this bizarre fear of being hit in the face. Same reason I avoid basketball & any variety of baseball-ish sports. PE cured me, not of my propensity to being distracted while a projectile heads towards my skull at full speed, of my desire to be in a position of having projectiles headed towards my skull at full speed. under any circumstance. Good job Mr. Bush! (a different Mr. Bush, I promise!)
Anyhoo,we're they're playing in a big circle and I'm gabbing with Casey off to the side when *WHAM* my head explodes. It's gone. I'm headless and probably soon dead. And I blink. Hey, dead people don't blink. People without heads generally don't have severe face pain either. Cool, I'm not headless nor dead. Aw fuck, MY FACE HURTS. Teeth intact, check. Blood, a bit. Hey, it hurts exactly in the middle of my two front teeth, but up on my lip. Wait! He nailed me square! Damn, that's one hell of a shot! and it hurts like a motherfucker!! I gotta get back to Sunnyside Up and get ice. OMG I can't lose my teeth wow, I'm not hurt worse, pretty cool...
I manage to actually call out to the tosser, I know it was an accident, no one coulda hit me like that on purpose ::::vbg::: (or as much of one as I could muster with my swollen lips and all.) And I make my way 1/2 block to Sunnyside Up and the ICE MACHINE! I wait a few hours before looking in a mirror, I work hard to keep myself together, well, as together as I am on a good day, anyway
I don't play group frisbee. I don't play because I have this bizarre fear of being hit in the face. Same reason I avoid basketball & any variety of baseball-ish sports. PE cured me, not of my propensity to being distracted while a projectile heads towards my skull at full speed, of my desire to be in a position of having projectiles headed towards my skull at full speed. under any circumstance. Good job Mr. Bush! (a different Mr. Bush, I promise!)
Anyhoo,
I manage to actually call out to the tosser, I know it was an accident, no one coulda hit me like that on purpose ::::vbg::: (or as much of one as I could muster with my swollen lips and all.) And I make my way 1/2 block to Sunnyside Up and the ICE MACHINE! I wait a few hours before looking in a mirror, I work hard to keep myself together, well, as together as I am on a good day, anyway
o frisbee sniper
I am in awe of your aim
forgiveness with ease
So I write haiku, take daily pictures,
revel in my temporary mustachioedness!
Go ahead, click to enlarge either of the last two pictures, so you too can appreciate that b.e.a.u.tiful bruise, revel in that awe inspiring Frisbee marksmanship!And really, I just gotta say, what are the odds of the deepest indentation on my face getting injured?!? Missed my skull, my temple, my glasses, my teeth, my nose, my teeth, hallelujah it missed my teeth!
Hit me right in that one teeny tiny well-indented spot.
If there is indeed a god or 1200, s/he/they're laughing their divine asses off at this one ♥
Always glad to entertain, fellas! Don't forget to tip ♥
3 comments:
I know I must have been four or so, because my parents were still (somewhat) happily married. But i have distinct memories of being at the park, enjoying the sunshine in the middle of a large grassy field, and out of nowhere...a big black disk, with big lips, came flying at me and beaned me in the middle of the face.
Years later I discovered in a horrendous flashback that it was the logo for Rolling Stones, and one of my dad's friend's frisbees. But in my dreams, I still see a big black disk, blocking the sunlight, growing larger and larger.
Your lips look picturesque...glad you survived.
Oh, I cringed. Ouch!
I, too, am 'afraid of the ball' and all other things heading toward my head, or rather, my face. Your story reminded me of the time I was plowed over by some football players while cheerleading. I was doing my "go, team, go" thing with my back to the field, and all of a sudden, I was being smashed to the ground, violently and almost dream-like, by a cluster fuck of football players who were tackling each other, and as a result, tackling me. No serious injuries, but I bet it was something to see!
No worries, sweets! You still look maaaahhvelous! And I *gotta, gotta, gotta* have myself a pair of those tights (the one's pictured in your header). They're so Diana!
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