Your horror story brought back memories of me at 21 (was I really ever 21?) right after my appendix was removed. Back then they left scars made with knives. Now, most operations are done with lasers and leave small scars that look like holes in your body. Anyway, one of my friends called and wanted to see me in the hospital. Okay, that would be fine. She stopped by with some flowers and a card. Then she said, "Barb wants to come and see you. She'll be here tomorrow." Oh, no, not Barb! I didn't say it, but Barb is one of the funniest people I know and we banter a lot and laugh until we cry. We've known each other since grade school and we used to get in trouble in class for giggling so hard we couldn't stop. "Please tell her not to come....tell her I'm sick, or something," I pleaded. Why, what's wrong? I can't sneeze, I can't cough, I can hardly sleep at night unless I hold a pillow close to my stomach all night. the stitches are so painful. Barb will make me laugh. "Um, well, I can't lie to her. Maybe you can call her and ask her not to come." Of course, I couldn't lie, I could only ask my friend to lie for me. The next morning someone tapped on my hospital room door. In she came smiling, it was Barb. As soon as I saw her she laughed about my hospital room and that was the end of me. I still hurt just thinking of her being there that day. I tried to tell her not to make me laugh, and of course, her being my best friend and all, she made me laugh all day. It hurt like Heck! She was killing me.
We still talk long distance every Christmas, whether we need to or not, just to have a few laughs....sometimes about the people we knew in school that died before we did...are both 80....and I only said we laughed about those alumni who passed 'cause I've been reading NORM for so long ...
Bahahahaha! I will take that compliment. Also, and I say this with the utmost conviction, death does not preclude you from a good ribbing. I hope people still give it to me long after I'm dead.
I read this first line out loud to Becky without context. "Was that Chris," she asked? Your reputation precedes you, my man. Hope you're feeling better.
I KNEW IT!!!!! I could have written that story. except it was a broken ligment. Fortunately, a friend knew the guy who took care of the Phoenix Suns players' injuries, and he arranged for me to see him He was terrific. After two months of being taped tightly, I was back to normal...but I played basketball only one more game after that. That's another story which I will send you in a few days.
Those of us who have had knee surgery know the sheer euphoria of touching our heel to our butt cheek. It might be my biggest and best accomplishment to date.
Oh it’s you! Wonderful Boner you!!! Greater love no woman hath than looking into my husbands butthole, holding an enema pouch, insert . Success !No more impacted from back surgery pain killers. Keep the bongs coming
Ack! I just saw it as a foreshadowing of a knee replacement in the near future. I haven't been able to squat to talk to dogs (the highlight of my day) in years because of that. I have to just plop down on the sidewalk.🤷♀️🐕
I was in my mid-40's, living in Phoenix, and had become a rabid fan of the Phoenix Suns. I was also quite critical of them when they lost a game...in particular, their young center, Danny Schayes. In case you do not remember him, he is the son of the great Dolph Schayes.
So, on one insane day, after a loss, I wrote a letter to the local newspaper, castigating him and suggesting that, even though middle-aged I could probably beat him, one-on-one, in a ten-goal game...and still give him five goals. I think I suggested his sneakers were nailed to the floor.
I never expected a reply to my letter, so was quite surprised when the phone rang and a voice asked, "Is this the jerk who wrote that letter?" The voice was that of an editor of the local newspaper.
"You wrote you could beat Schayes in a one-on-one match. Wanna put your money where your mouth is?"
I think I phumfered, "Are you serious?"
"Yeah. I can set the game up tomorrow," he offered.
I was 45 years old, three inches less than six feet tall, and thirty pounds overweight. "Can you give me two weeks to get in shape?" I must have been crazy to even consider it. Danny was not yet 30 years old and almost seven feet tall...and in shape. So. of course I agreed.
He told me where and when the game would be played. It was to be at the outside basketball court of a downtown school. I immediately set about inviting my family and all my friends and employees to see the "Match of the Century."
When I arrived at the basketball court the next day, I was not quite ready for the crowd or photographers which had gathered...nor for the ambulance which had been provided. My caller obviously was worried about Danny being hurt, I surmised.
When Danny arrived, he was accompanied by his wife. "Good grief!!!! He is BIG!!!!" And so was his wife, who was also gorgeous.
In short order, I was called to the center of the court by a referree and introduced to Danny. Looking straight ahead, I stared into his belly-button area. "What have I let myself into?" I prayed silently.
I was given the ball "Out," and almost immediately pulled my famous fake move on him and drove for the basket, rising magnificently to dunk the ball over him. Only I didn't.
Danny probably didn'y have to get up on his toes to swat the ball away, retreat to the foul line, and sink a relatively short shot. It was now Danny SIX, Big Mouth ZERO. The remainder of the next few actions was roughly the same. When the score reached 9-0, and out of ear-shot of the crowd, I whispered to Danny, "For Pete's sake. let me score one. My whole family is here."
Danny showed me what a generous and kind guy he was. "Okay- Go ahead."
I again drove for the basket and went up for the shot...only this time there was no hand taking away the ball. Instead, it floated through the rim....and the crowd's roar made my humiliation worth it all. It was now 9-1!!!!!
It did not take long for Danny to end it. I will never forget his grace and kindness in what had to be his easiest win. Somehow, I felt I had also won.
The next day, I wrote another letter to the editor, thanking him, but challenging him to a re-match when HE was 45.
This is amazing! I remember watching Danny Schayes on that Suns team. Love hearing that he let you get one. Have you seen the footage of Brian Scalabrine's Scallenge? You don't really understand what an elite pro ball player is until you see him play against regular people. It's awe-inpiring. Thanks for sharing this story. It's hilarious and great.
I never bothered to block a guy lake that. Too dangerous because he never does what you expect a bball player to do. I much prefer the low-bridge. Safer for me and much more effective on him.
I've read all the links and every one dissolves my gotta go to work tomorrow anxiety. Each one reveals more links which give me more reason to live. Declining a helmet is priceless. I thank the universe for not claiming you as worm food. Yet.
Absolutely hilarious. Kind of reflected two personal experiences. First, in 1979, my poor, dear departed dad hit a telephone pole and murdered his knee cap (he lived--much to the amazement of many). I took care of him during the day. Mom had second shift. About a year and a half ago, I performed my flying squirrel imitation and tried to break my fall on to an astoundingly unyielding concrete floor. Broke my arm. Spent 5 months with my brother and his long suffering wife. She's a saint. I eventually recovered. No surgery but that therapy was a lot of fun. No gongs. :D
Flying squirrel imitation?! Man, that's horrible. Also sounds like a great band name. And let's hear it for long suffering wives. They're pretty great. A big bang the gong for your sister-in-law. Glad to hear you recovered okay. ❤️
Your horror story brought back memories of me at 21 (was I really ever 21?) right after my appendix was removed. Back then they left scars made with knives. Now, most operations are done with lasers and leave small scars that look like holes in your body. Anyway, one of my friends called and wanted to see me in the hospital. Okay, that would be fine. She stopped by with some flowers and a card. Then she said, "Barb wants to come and see you. She'll be here tomorrow." Oh, no, not Barb! I didn't say it, but Barb is one of the funniest people I know and we banter a lot and laugh until we cry. We've known each other since grade school and we used to get in trouble in class for giggling so hard we couldn't stop. "Please tell her not to come....tell her I'm sick, or something," I pleaded. Why, what's wrong? I can't sneeze, I can't cough, I can hardly sleep at night unless I hold a pillow close to my stomach all night. the stitches are so painful. Barb will make me laugh. "Um, well, I can't lie to her. Maybe you can call her and ask her not to come." Of course, I couldn't lie, I could only ask my friend to lie for me. The next morning someone tapped on my hospital room door. In she came smiling, it was Barb. As soon as I saw her she laughed about my hospital room and that was the end of me. I still hurt just thinking of her being there that day. I tried to tell her not to make me laugh, and of course, her being my best friend and all, she made me laugh all day. It hurt like Heck! She was killing me.
I'm not really into sadomasochism, unless it involves laughter. Barb sounds like the kind of friend with just the right amount of evil. ;)
We still talk long distance every Christmas, whether we need to or not, just to have a few laughs....sometimes about the people we knew in school that died before we did...are both 80....and I only said we laughed about those alumni who passed 'cause I've been reading NORM for so long ...
Bahahahaha! I will take that compliment. Also, and I say this with the utmost conviction, death does not preclude you from a good ribbing. I hope people still give it to me long after I'm dead.
I agree, no tears, no fears.
Oweee. 😂
Oh norm, we know why your ass was bleeding…
Thanks for the dedication as I recover from my fun Vollyball injury made worse during Coors Light pickleball.
I read this first line out loud to Becky without context. "Was that Chris," she asked? Your reputation precedes you, my man. Hope you're feeling better.
I KNEW IT!!!!! I could have written that story. except it was a broken ligment. Fortunately, a friend knew the guy who took care of the Phoenix Suns players' injuries, and he arranged for me to see him He was terrific. After two months of being taped tightly, I was back to normal...but I played basketball only one more game after that. That's another story which I will send you in a few days.
Looking forward to it!
Hilarious. All healed?
Has Pastrami written other titles?
Mostly healed. The ego never really recovers, though.
Pastrami is hard at work in the deli, trying to put something together. Thanks for asking. :)
The next book cover and back should resemble rye bread. The spine can be oozing mustard.
I like it. Maybe I can have the pages spritzed with pickle brine... Engage as many senses as possible.
🤣🤣
Always a delight to read your stories.
*deep bow* Thanks for being here. :)
Those of us who have had knee surgery know the sheer euphoria of touching our heel to our butt cheek. It might be my biggest and best accomplishment to date.
Preach, sister! Preach!
Oh it’s you! Wonderful Boner you!!! Greater love no woman hath than looking into my husbands butthole, holding an enema pouch, insert . Success !No more impacted from back surgery pain killers. Keep the bongs coming
You made me try to see if I could do that. I can, but only with one leg. 😩
I'm not sure if I should applaud or wince at your mobility... ;)
Ack! I just saw it as a foreshadowing of a knee replacement in the near future. I haven't been able to squat to talk to dogs (the highlight of my day) in years because of that. I have to just plop down on the sidewalk.🤷♀️🐕
My Last Basketball Game
I was in my mid-40's, living in Phoenix, and had become a rabid fan of the Phoenix Suns. I was also quite critical of them when they lost a game...in particular, their young center, Danny Schayes. In case you do not remember him, he is the son of the great Dolph Schayes.
So, on one insane day, after a loss, I wrote a letter to the local newspaper, castigating him and suggesting that, even though middle-aged I could probably beat him, one-on-one, in a ten-goal game...and still give him five goals. I think I suggested his sneakers were nailed to the floor.
I never expected a reply to my letter, so was quite surprised when the phone rang and a voice asked, "Is this the jerk who wrote that letter?" The voice was that of an editor of the local newspaper.
"You wrote you could beat Schayes in a one-on-one match. Wanna put your money where your mouth is?"
I think I phumfered, "Are you serious?"
"Yeah. I can set the game up tomorrow," he offered.
I was 45 years old, three inches less than six feet tall, and thirty pounds overweight. "Can you give me two weeks to get in shape?" I must have been crazy to even consider it. Danny was not yet 30 years old and almost seven feet tall...and in shape. So. of course I agreed.
He told me where and when the game would be played. It was to be at the outside basketball court of a downtown school. I immediately set about inviting my family and all my friends and employees to see the "Match of the Century."
When I arrived at the basketball court the next day, I was not quite ready for the crowd or photographers which had gathered...nor for the ambulance which had been provided. My caller obviously was worried about Danny being hurt, I surmised.
When Danny arrived, he was accompanied by his wife. "Good grief!!!! He is BIG!!!!" And so was his wife, who was also gorgeous.
In short order, I was called to the center of the court by a referree and introduced to Danny. Looking straight ahead, I stared into his belly-button area. "What have I let myself into?" I prayed silently.
I was given the ball "Out," and almost immediately pulled my famous fake move on him and drove for the basket, rising magnificently to dunk the ball over him. Only I didn't.
Danny probably didn'y have to get up on his toes to swat the ball away, retreat to the foul line, and sink a relatively short shot. It was now Danny SIX, Big Mouth ZERO. The remainder of the next few actions was roughly the same. When the score reached 9-0, and out of ear-shot of the crowd, I whispered to Danny, "For Pete's sake. let me score one. My whole family is here."
Danny showed me what a generous and kind guy he was. "Okay- Go ahead."
I again drove for the basket and went up for the shot...only this time there was no hand taking away the ball. Instead, it floated through the rim....and the crowd's roar made my humiliation worth it all. It was now 9-1!!!!!
It did not take long for Danny to end it. I will never forget his grace and kindness in what had to be his easiest win. Somehow, I felt I had also won.
The next day, I wrote another letter to the editor, thanking him, but challenging him to a re-match when HE was 45.
This is amazing! I remember watching Danny Schayes on that Suns team. Love hearing that he let you get one. Have you seen the footage of Brian Scalabrine's Scallenge? You don't really understand what an elite pro ball player is until you see him play against regular people. It's awe-inpiring. Thanks for sharing this story. It's hilarious and great.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BYsrDDfaF38
I never bothered to block a guy lake that. Too dangerous because he never does what you expect a bball player to do. I much prefer the low-bridge. Safer for me and much more effective on him.
Bahahahaha! Definitely more effective.
I've read all the links and every one dissolves my gotta go to work tomorrow anxiety. Each one reveals more links which give me more reason to live. Declining a helmet is priceless. I thank the universe for not claiming you as worm food. Yet.
Thanks for this comment, for the love and the reminder--the worms coming for us all is a good motivation to keep writing. :)
Absolutely hilarious. Kind of reflected two personal experiences. First, in 1979, my poor, dear departed dad hit a telephone pole and murdered his knee cap (he lived--much to the amazement of many). I took care of him during the day. Mom had second shift. About a year and a half ago, I performed my flying squirrel imitation and tried to break my fall on to an astoundingly unyielding concrete floor. Broke my arm. Spent 5 months with my brother and his long suffering wife. She's a saint. I eventually recovered. No surgery but that therapy was a lot of fun. No gongs. :D
Flying squirrel imitation?! Man, that's horrible. Also sounds like a great band name. And let's hear it for long suffering wives. They're pretty great. A big bang the gong for your sister-in-law. Glad to hear you recovered okay. ❤️