Winter was so horrible to me that I decided I must find some way to make it cool or I surely will die from endlessly going to movies. So I took up skiing ... yah, in Ohio. Imagine it.
My family laughed and hooted but eventually almost every single one of them took it up at Perfect North Slopes nearby Cincinnati. The vertical drop probably wasn't even 150 meters but that's quite enough to learn. My ol' Dad skied there practically until he died and it was more often than not with a swarm of family around him.
So that was one awful thing I did.
My ol' Dad had a stroke that blew out his voice. Seeing a full professor whose projection could make Prince Charles sound like a Campfire Girl is grim but when he opened his mouth and tried but failed to speak made one of the most heart-destroying images of my life.
Note: don't smoke
I wrote WEBSTER and he began on a Commodore 64 computer with a purpose of providing the speech drills that could augment actual speech therapy with a professional. This actually worked and WEBSTER became part of the family for years with my ol' Dad always referring to him by name.
My part was, as always, thinking up weird things and the Queen Bee did the hard bit which was making up all the word lists and helping him get going with them. I would have been horrible in that part so this worked well.
Now you have an awful thing I did plus an awful thing she did, doubly awful.
Note: WEBSTER is not commercially-available.
I taught the little fuckers how to read. My ol' Mother said I learned to read so I could translate the titles on TV cartoons for my brothers and sisters. This was a big deal as cartoons were only on-air for a short time and prior to that there were only test patterns. This was very early-sixties Australia.
That was pretty awful. I see that now.
I also drove those little fuckers all over the place. I was oldest so I got the first drivers license. It wasn't like today when Dad turns over an expensive car to Junior and says, hey, young Millennial go forth and use this to find women way too hot for you to handle. In my day, we ran errands.
I get it now. That sucked too.
I cleaned up the bird shit from those fucking parrots. Those birds are so beautiful but you won't even begin to believe how much of a shitstorm party they can make. I was so pissed as I was cleaning it up with razor blades and sanding on a hardwood floor, thinking all the time, you're going to get psittacosis and die, boy.
Yep, that was another awful thing I did.
It was me who came up with the idea to flood the sunroom with a garden hose when the parents were gone. That way we could use it as slide room and play water bumper cars with each other.
Yes, I got my ass soundly-kicked for that ... because it was so awful, you know.
I invented jumping off the garage roof with a pillow case.
See, they forget. The stuff I did was really awful.
I invented shooting rockets down the street at cars and Doc was involved in this one. We helped ourselves to a number of fairly hefty rockets from a store and, since it was daylight, we figured it would make a much better effect if we shot them along the ground. I can't say for sure but I don't think it was our intention to hit cars, that was just an extra benefit. It was as much of a surprise to them as it was to us when the star shell exploded next to the car.
Awful stuff, every bit of this horrid confession.
I joined the Boy Scouts and then Doc joined with me. Very soon after we were thrown out of the Boy Scouts.
I went out to pick tomatoes with the migrant workers in California as no-one else would hire me. Then Doc joined me to do it too ... and pretty soon we were fired.
Next I discovered sex. I didn't tell Doc anything.
I'm so damn awful.
Plus I let them assist in painting my beloved Duckmobile
Yep, just one more awful thing I did.
I'm so awful. I don't know how I live with myself.
My family laughed and hooted but eventually almost every single one of them took it up at Perfect North Slopes nearby Cincinnati. The vertical drop probably wasn't even 150 meters but that's quite enough to learn. My ol' Dad skied there practically until he died and it was more often than not with a swarm of family around him.
So that was one awful thing I did.
My ol' Dad had a stroke that blew out his voice. Seeing a full professor whose projection could make Prince Charles sound like a Campfire Girl is grim but when he opened his mouth and tried but failed to speak made one of the most heart-destroying images of my life.
Note: don't smoke
I wrote WEBSTER and he began on a Commodore 64 computer with a purpose of providing the speech drills that could augment actual speech therapy with a professional. This actually worked and WEBSTER became part of the family for years with my ol' Dad always referring to him by name.
My part was, as always, thinking up weird things and the Queen Bee did the hard bit which was making up all the word lists and helping him get going with them. I would have been horrible in that part so this worked well.
Now you have an awful thing I did plus an awful thing she did, doubly awful.
Note: WEBSTER is not commercially-available.
I taught the little fuckers how to read. My ol' Mother said I learned to read so I could translate the titles on TV cartoons for my brothers and sisters. This was a big deal as cartoons were only on-air for a short time and prior to that there were only test patterns. This was very early-sixties Australia.
That was pretty awful. I see that now.
I also drove those little fuckers all over the place. I was oldest so I got the first drivers license. It wasn't like today when Dad turns over an expensive car to Junior and says, hey, young Millennial go forth and use this to find women way too hot for you to handle. In my day, we ran errands.
I get it now. That sucked too.
I cleaned up the bird shit from those fucking parrots. Those birds are so beautiful but you won't even begin to believe how much of a shitstorm party they can make. I was so pissed as I was cleaning it up with razor blades and sanding on a hardwood floor, thinking all the time, you're going to get psittacosis and die, boy.
Yep, that was another awful thing I did.
It was me who came up with the idea to flood the sunroom with a garden hose when the parents were gone. That way we could use it as slide room and play water bumper cars with each other.
Yes, I got my ass soundly-kicked for that ... because it was so awful, you know.
I invented jumping off the garage roof with a pillow case.
See, they forget. The stuff I did was really awful.
I invented shooting rockets down the street at cars and Doc was involved in this one. We helped ourselves to a number of fairly hefty rockets from a store and, since it was daylight, we figured it would make a much better effect if we shot them along the ground. I can't say for sure but I don't think it was our intention to hit cars, that was just an extra benefit. It was as much of a surprise to them as it was to us when the star shell exploded next to the car.
Awful stuff, every bit of this horrid confession.
I joined the Boy Scouts and then Doc joined with me. Very soon after we were thrown out of the Boy Scouts.
I went out to pick tomatoes with the migrant workers in California as no-one else would hire me. Then Doc joined me to do it too ... and pretty soon we were fired.
Next I discovered sex. I didn't tell Doc anything.
I'm so damn awful.
Plus I let them assist in painting my beloved Duckmobile
Yep, just one more awful thing I did.
I'm so awful. I don't know how I live with myself.
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