|
|
keithcancook Nearly Meets His Maker
|
Posted:Aug 2, 2015 6:32 pm
Last Updated:Jun 8, 2020 6:06 am
24916 Views
|
Hello, my friends! Here is a TRUE story from my youth.
In the summer of my seventeenth year I traveled Northern Europe for a month with a Catholic youth group. One of our first stops was Brussels, Belgium where we stayed in a youth hostel. This hostel was shaped sort of like a "C" or bracket "[ ". In the middle courtyard it was open aired and grassy, to the back there was a low stone wall topped by an iron fence. Beyond the fence was a 60 foot drop to the alley below. We sat out there, my friends and I, looking down into the alley watching playing soccer on the cobbled street.
Later, while exploring the city I saw a billboard promoting the rock band Uriah Heep and their concert that was scheduled for that very night! Now in those days I really liked that band and the thought of seeing them in Europe was just way too cool to pass up. So I convinced my friend and 2 other girls we met as part of our tour group to go to this concert. I will skip over the part of trying to find this place in a strange city and me with only a minimum of French fluency...that was an adventure in itself...
Anyways, we found the place, enjoyed the show, had a blast and then tried to navigate home later that night. There another adventure in bus changes and wrong stops continued...
When we finally found the dang hostel where we were staying it was well past midnight. Now in those days the hostels closed at certain times and if you weren't inside then you were on your own until morning. We were in big trouble because the priests were going to be really pissed off that they had lost 4 teenagers on the second day of the trip! I am sure that there was quite a bit of consternation when we missed the head count that night.
I was in a quandary as to what to do. I didn't know my way around, there weren't any other places to stay, the females were bitching...it was a bummer let me tell you.
There was still activity on the streets and folks were passing by. I tried to converse with some of them in my fractured French but was not getting anywhere. So we just started walking and not too far down the street we came to a nightclub that was going full bore with rock music and drinking. We were way for America but in Brussels we were served all the alcohol we wanted. We partied for three more hours until we were too tired to go on. We stumbled back to the front of the hostel and it's heavy arched wooden door. Across the street was a small church that must have been 400 years old, with a tiny cemetery attached. We went there and sat down amongst the crosses and stones to rest.
I was thinking, "This is not good. There must be a way to get in." That is when it hit me. The Courtyard of the Hostel! Of course! I remembered that the building next to that alley where the were playing soccer had these windows with bars on them. If someone was careful, he could climb from window to window up to the level of the courtyard and then swing over and grab the iron railing that guarded the back of the courtyard. Once there all he had to do was walk across the courtyard to the front door, open it and let the others in.
As I explained this cockamamie plan to my little group the women were all for it. (sure, let him risk his young ass so daddy's little princess won't get in trouble). Mark wasn't so certain though. He thought that the windows were too far apart. But I was tall, much taller than the others. I felt that it could be done. In fact I insisted on it. So we all walked the long twisting route down to the back of the hostel. We were down in the alley looking up at the railing of the hostel courtyard and I measured the possibilities from this new perspective. It appeared that Mark may have been right. The distance looked possible but very dangerous.
Stupid and undeterred, I announced that I was going up. I was going over, and I was going in. They were to just watch.
The windows were difficult to manage. They were shaped like arches - rounded at the top. The bars that guarded them were shaped to fit. I could just pull myself up far enough to reach the next level and I began to climb. After I cleared two stories I paused and rested, clinging tightly to the bars and hoping that they were all well anchored. It never occurred to me that they may pull out of the dang building from my weight.
I looked up. Only one more level to go. I pulled myself up and was level with the courtyard. Almost. Not quite level actually, now that I was up there and could see better. The final move to be made...the one that would put me on the railing of the courtyard...was too far!!! I was long and tall but it just was a bit too far to swing from the window of my building to the hostel next door.
I looked down. There were my three friends below me watching. I decided that I couldn't make the maneuver and would have to retrace my steps. That is when I discovered that down was not an option either. At least down by climbing. Down by falling was much more likely. The windows were recessed, and the bars were fitted inside. It was like a smooth wall below me with no footholds.
I can still remember vividly the thoughts that raced through my dazed brain as I clung to that window and felt the wind blowing on my face that summer of 1973. Even as I sit here 42 long years later. It was a picture of the local paper with a bold headline Youth Dies In Fall Abroad! Oh! How my heart was beating! Let me tell y'all I was feeling pretty scared all of a sudden. The alcohol was wearing off quickly with the adrenaline rush of my life being at stake, and I was thinking since I cant go down, I will have to make the attempt to swing over the long distance to my left that would put me safely home.
There was only going to be one attempt. I knew this. I was going to have to hang on the window bar with my right hand, swing my whole body over and reach out with my left hand to the next building. I could not do this without letting go of the window bar at the apex of my swing maneuver. It was right out of Arnold Schwarzenegger or The Matrix or something like that.
If I missed the railing I would continue falling to the cobbled street below.
Of course I made it. Obviously, since I lived to tell the tale. My hand found the bottom of that railing, and I clung to it for dear life as I quickly brought my right hand over and now I was almost done. I had two hands firmly clutching the the iron railing, (Hell, pressing grooves in them I was hanging on so tight). My feet were dangling and my fans were cheering below. I pulled myself up and over. I was in!
I looked down at my friends. Down in the alley where the play. Triumphantly I raised my arms ala Rocky and jumped up and down. Seriously, somebody should have been playing that music from Rocky it was such a magnificent moment for me. I called down to them and told them to start walking back and be very quiet when they tapped on the door. I lay on my back in the courtyard grass and looked up at the stars of Belgium and waited. It was going to take them a good while to walk all the way back around to the front door of the hostel.
When I felt that they should almost be there I carefully tiptoed over to the main door. All was quiet and all were asleep. Or so I thought. Just as I heard a soft tapping at the door and was about to open it, a firm hand suddenly grasped my shoulder. Surprised, I turned around and found myself staring into the not too pleased face of Mr. Reynolds, one of the adult volunteers for our tour. He told me "This hostel does not open until 7am. You may enter it then. He then opened the door and put me out with my disheveled friends. The door closed and the lock was set again. And there I stood. Right where I was so many hours before.
I learned many lessons that night and not least among them was a lesson in irony.
blog on!
|
|
|
19
Comments
|
|
Busted! Don't Let This Happen To You!
|
Posted:Aug 1, 2015 10:52 am
Last Updated:Aug 8, 2015 6:38 pm
23511 Views
|
When plotting to cheat on your spouse, it is wise to prevent them from discovering the truth about you.
Check this out... [post 3672558]
Blog on
|
|
|
10
Comments
|
|
|
|
Blogging 101. Answering A Negative With A Positive
|
Posted:Jul 28, 2015 7:04 am
Last Updated:Jun 8, 2020 6:30 am
25055 Views
|
Sometimes after writing a post someone will enter your blog and leave a negative or snarky comment. What do you do when this happens?
Last night, I told a blogger that his post caused me to throw up. His response is a classic.
Check it out. It is quite brief and has a great pic to go along with it. Love Quotes
Blog On!
P.S. If you agree with his comeback , vote for it.
|
|
|
14
Comments
|
|
Earth Girls Are Easy
|
Posted:Jul 26, 2015 8:25 pm
Last Updated:Jul 28, 2015 9:16 pm
23032 Views
|
What was that", he whispered.
"It might have been a zombie" he continued, as the campfire began to fade.
"There's no such thing as zombies" she scoffed nervously, from the far side of the fire.
"Maybe so, but we should still have a plan. Head shots are the bes..."
Nothing further was needed as she snuggled into the safety of his arms.
|
|
|
9
Comments
|
|
One Slut, Two Slut. Red Slut. Blue Slut.
|
Posted:Jul 26, 2015 9:20 am
Last Updated:Jul 15, 2016 2:40 pm
43387 Views
|
While blogging through all the posts of the 10th Virtual Symposium it occurred to me that sluts are defined in many ways, and I was inspired to compose this, this, ... um, thing.
One slut.
Two slut.
Red slut.
Blue slut.
This one has a small tattoo.
That one's man has been untrue.
How many sluts? There's quite a few.
Yes, some are red. And some are blue.
Some are old. And some are new.
Some are sad.
And some are glad.
And some are very very bad!
So, why are they all so sad and glad? And are they really all that bad?
How could I know? I dress in plaid!
In posts today they speak of sluts. In some they
seem to come from ruts. Others want them (in their guts). One was seen (while in a hut). Another is a pure Seuss slut. (I'm certain that one's quite the nut!)
Ruts!
Nuts!
Huts!
Guts!
So many ways to seek a slut. But only if your mind's not shut.
I tell you simply as a true man all these sluts are uniquely human.
BLOG ON!
|
|
|
20
Comments
|
|
On Slut...10th Virtual Symposium
|
Posted:Jul 25, 2015 8:27 pm
Last Updated:Aug 18, 2015 7:27 pm
37027 Views
|
While blogging one day in a hut
my screen was filled with much smut.
I soon felt an urge,
then the semen did surge,
and a nut in a hut is a slut.
blog on!
|
|
|
17
Comments
|
|
NEW! Try this FANTASTIC new BLOGGING APP!
|
Posted:May 22, 2014 6:41 am
Last Updated:Jul 29, 2015 3:50 pm
49392 Views
|
Is your blog getting the attention that you feel it deserves?
Are you content with its content? Or has your blog become boring, listless and bland?
Are you searching in vain for smashing new ideas, then always settling on the same simple posting of provocative pics? Or possibly you just paste a funny from the e-mails you receive daily.
Have you found yourself buried under an avalanche of yellow on your watched blog list? Maybe even some of them have posted thirty or forty times since last you visited.
Well, getting behind on blogging will be a thing of the past when SMART BLOGGER PRO is released from the labs at the BlogLand Productions Research Facility. This amazing new app will rocket your blog from rank anonymity to celebrity, fame, and renown!
Your blog will be filled with exciting new topics sure to solicit hundreds of original comments! From all over the world! Using the TOPIC TOOL you can program your blog to automatically post for you according to your present mood or mental disposition. All you have to do is revel in your new popularity!
Keeping up with watched blogs is painless, as you automatically visit and comment while you really watch re-runs of old TV shows or whatever it is that you do instead of actually visiting them. None will be the wiser as SMART BLOGGER PRO keeps the blogger happy with visits and comments, and you from feeling guilty that you are no longer really interested in their stuff but don't want to hurt anybodys feelings.
And what about your feelings? Do you sometimes feel left out when it seems that other bloggers know things that you don't by talking over your head? Or maybe you are just curious as to how a blog war originated? Or whether or not this member might be a new incarnation of that member?
Well, SMART BLOGGER PRO will take all the mystery away. Using advanced techniques launched from a special building in Shanghai, China - everything you wish to know will be laid bare.
Tired of trolls? Of course you are! Now, with SMART BLOGGER PRO you can blog in peace while they fall to pieces. The all-new ANTI-TROLL TOOL will revolutionize internet justice on a global scale. Using the never before seen Putznet malware this suxtnet inspired program will infect every electronic device that they use, keeping them so busy fending off the attacks that they will hardly have time to bother with you.
So, free up some space on your favorite computer and download SMART BLOGGER PRO as soon as it is released. Once installed, SMART BLOGGER PRO immediately gets to work giving me access - er, I mean gets to work accessing the necessary files while adapting itself to your singular blogging style and personality.
SMART BLOGGER PRO represents the cutting edge in automated blogging.
Once you start using it you will never want to go back to your old blogging habits. (Actually it will be impossible to ever go back on your device, but I digress).
As the developer Of this marvelous new product I give my personal guarantee that SMART BLOGGER PRO will put me in position to hack, um, I um mean will put you on track to be the best artificially intelligent blogger in all BlogLand.
Pre-purchase today!
|
|
|
17
Comments
|
|
Fat Serial Killer Pizza
|
Posted:Apr 28, 2014 3:40 pm
Last Updated:Jul 10, 2023 5:17 am
48539 Views
|
I was just reading about online dating wherein it was written that the man a woman most fears meeting is a serial killer.
Men, on the other hand, most fear meeting someone "fat".
A few things occurred to me then.
First, women have much less to worry about since the ratio of serial killer men to "fat" females must be quite wide.
Second, it could be possible that men are rather shallow when it comes to meeting new females. (I'm not ready to commit completely on that one yet).
Next I wondered would happen if more serial killers embraced "fat" women. Would there be less killing and more large women getting dates, or would there just be less large women and happier serial killer men?
Finally, I decided that I was hungry and ordered a pizza. It was delivered by a large woman who asked me to kill her and 4 of her friends. Jeesh!
blog on!
|
|
|
22
Comments
|
|
A Madman Loose In The Basements of BlogLand
|
Posted:Apr 23, 2014 9:55 pm
Last Updated:Sep 19, 2015 10:12 pm
48193 Views
|
The Butcher, The Baker, & the Candlestick Maker
The only way to become the leading BLOG HISTORIAN on the site is to read as many old posts and blogs as possible.
Delving ever deeper into dusty, cobwebby, basements where no man goes. It's lonely down there and the walls can close in on you.
It plays on your mind. Phantoms and ghosts flit about. Archives of the minds of bloggers both familiar and strange appear.
Crackling like old parchment unrolled after untold years, forgotten voices are remembered once again. Interestingly, many of the topics found are still being widely discussed throughout the Land of Blog.
My trusty flashlight has brought light once again to images hovering above an endless array of basement doors. Flickering briefly in the roaming brightness I see the faces, poses, and title pix of posts both interesting and mundane.
One reason that the study of Blog Archeology is not among the leading disciplines in BlogLand University's College of Arts and Sciences, concerns the danger encountered deep in the abyss of blog basements.
Last week, while trying to retrace my steps after my deepest plunge yet, my not-so-trusty flashlight failed. I was left in the pitch black dark, cold and shivering. Shaking and tapping on my flashlight gave me brief glimpses of the long dim hallways.
Nearly blind, I stumbled and clawed my way out, pausing only to eat the waxy remnants of the egg salad sandwich I had in my pocket.
I'm not really sure, time cannot be counted down there, but I think it took me almost week to escape. Something happened to me during that terrifying journey. Something I cannot seem to put my finger on.
As I closed in on the last staircase the light of day beckoned from the crack under the door. Yet try as I may I could not reach it. I felt as Tantalus, with the stolen ambrosia of forgotten posts under my arm, reaching for the branches of freedom hanging just out of my grasp.
I cracked. My mind collapsed upon itself as the personalities within struggled for control of my consciousness, vying to take over my waking mind and spring from the dark recesses of my inner fears into the light of day.
I do not know who I am now. I could be several people, but I only seem to have ID for one. Perhaps that is who I am but I cannot be sure.
I seem to recall glimpses of myself committing horrible crimes by tinkering with history. Adding to the past a voice from the present. But a voice not my own, it being filled with sarcastic cynicism, hurled with venomous glee on the walls of Ancient Blogland like an angry armed with spray paint.
Longstanding monuments of BlogLand history are now altered. Blog Keepers armed with the power of DELETE will have to be sent down into the Pits of Blog to clean up the mess.
The Basements of BlogLand hold wonders, wisdom, and wit. Yet beware, if go there you dare. It's dangerous in the basement when the lights go out.
blog on!
|
|
|
14
Comments
|
|
|
|
Mosquitos
|
Posted:Jun 24, 2013 7:01 pm
Last Updated:Mar 24, 2015 10:55 pm
54645 Views
|
Grr! I hate those guys. No. It's more than that. Much more than mere hatred. I want them ALL eradicated. Down to the last itty bitty biting blood sucking bastard one of em.
Would Mother Nature miss her mosquitos, I wonder? Could the cycle of life be fatally disrupted if all the mosquitos were kaput? I hope not. I'm thinking that all the mosquito eaters out there could find something else to consume. If not, fuck em. Let's kill all the damn motherless mosquitos on earth and da heck with the consequences!
(We're all humans here, right? Trying to control Nature is in our nature.)
So who's with me?
Oh, and for any of you mosquito lovers who may be reading this, I'm warning you. I will spare no mosquito that flies in my path. Not one. Your pleas for mercy shall fall on deaf ears, and I can only pray that they shall suffer even as I have suffered. Amen.
Ahh, nothing like a good vent to ease the #%&&@#! itching... 
|
|
|
9
Comments
|
|
To link to this blog (keithcancook) use [blog keithcancook] in your messages.
|
|
|
| Sun |
Mon |
Tue |
Wed |
Thu |
Fri |
Sat |
| |
|
1
|
2
|
3
|
41
|
5
|
6
|
7
|
8
|
9
|
10
|
11
|
12
|
13
|
14
|
15
|
16
|
17
|
18
|
19
|
20
|
21
|
22
|
23
|
24
|
25
|
26
|
27
|
28
|
29
|
30
|
|
|
|
|
