Stumblor

Thursday, July 10, 2008

I hate me! I'm never speaking to me again.


Walking down the street in Stockholm last weekend, I noticed a distrustful looking individual coming down the path who was coveting what appeared to be a half eaten cream bun. As we approached each other, he suddenly veered off his line and careened uncontrollably toward me. Unable to avoid impact, we collided, decimating his cream bun and sending it flying off in all directions.

"Prushecta!" I managed after wiping down my front, pleased that I had remembered the Swedish expression for 'Excuse me' but still spitting it out with vehemence.

After we fled the scene I turned to Cath and rolled my eyes. "Geez," I said, trying not to sound flustered "was that guy wasted!" A keen observation if ever there was one.

"Disabled." she corrected.

"What?" Observation skills crumbling.

"You mean disabled. There was a group of them. Didn't you see the woman next to him in a wheelchair?"

Great. Like I needed another memory to feel disproportionately guilty about. So what does that make it: the speech I gave my sister at her wedding, calling my friend's mother Sandra when her name clearly isn't Sandra, ridiculing my friend's softballing skills when he was standing right behind me, and now: Disabled guy whose cream bun I ruined.

I'm sure there are more memories that I also cringe over, it's just that they only tend to make themselves known at 3 in the morning when insomnia has you by the balls.



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If you thought this post was slightly humorous, or even downright offensive, why not embellish a little and vote for it proudly over at humor-blogs.com. It will seriously only take a jiffy, which in case you were wondering is a time unit originally specified by the Commodore 64 development team as being 1/60 of a second. You see? Now we're all embellishing a little. It's totally what all the kids are doing these days. Well.. that and crack.

14 comments:

Anonymous said...

There have been many instances where I don't want to speak to myself, but I'm so adorable that I can never stay mad at me.

The Nemesing One said...

Self-loathing is the key to enlightenment. Besides, the cryp had it coming. Obviously he was not "handi-capable" or he wouldn't be weaving all over the sidewalk like that. Your only mistake was not somehow stealing the bun from him. It not like he would have ever caught up with you. Sheesh.

Kath Lockett said...

You poor old sausage. I've gone over to humorblogs and voted for you, if that cheers you up at all.

Here's one of my cringefests: yakkin' to a workmate (in norf lundun) about how only stupid slags who still think it's 1978 wear ankle chains, added a bit dollops of my wicket wit, to which she got up, walked over to the coffee machine and I saw, under her tights, around her ankles, a glimmer of gold chain... erk.

kiki said...

i once did something similar
i was head into an underground train station, and this couple was walking really slow.
i swore under my breath (loud enough for them to hear) and darted past them

she apologised and i looked and saw that she was leading him, and he was blind.

i did the right thing though and ran off down the escalator so i could hide

Nerd Girl said...

He could have been a drunk guy hanging out with disabled people. Did you ever think of that, friend of davey?

damon said...

I can't tell you just how many times I've bumped into a drunk Swedish handicapped person carrying a pastry.

Happens to the best of us.

Nanny Goats In Panties said...

Oh, I suppose I could regale you with my own embarrassing foot-in-mouth experiences, but then what would I have to blog about?

This was a great post! You had me cringing AND laughing!

davey said...

Thanks Sinister. I'll give it a shot, but if 'adorable' involves wearing bonnets I don't know how long I'll be able to persevere. Bonnets make my ears look puffy.

Nemesing, its okay man, I grabbed his wallet. What the hell is an 'organ donors card?'

You rule Kath! Now, if you just do that for me every single time I post, and get your friends to do it, and my mum does it, I'll like totally get 5 more readers. Dope.

Keeks, that is friggen hilarious. Banned.

Girl o' Nerd, sure, that's possible. He could have also been a drunk disabled guy. Or a quadriplegic snuff addict whose legs just started worked the other week. Or a guy like Kiki who had been dared to act mong for a whole day and who is generally just drunk. The possibilities are endless.

Damon, yeah, but when you do it it's FUNNY. When I do it it's weird. You have such panache when bumping into drunk Swedish cripple pastry eaters. Some are just born with it I guess.

Melanie Myers said...

I can vote for you? The least I can do for a gem like this one. Shit like this is meant to happen to you Davey in order to amuse the rest of us. You have to look for order and reason in the universe. Otherwise it will find you in the shape of disabled Swedish pastry eaters.

Jo said...

Try giving your balls a hot bath or a warm Milo before bed.

Don't give them cheese, though.

eleanor bloom said...

I'm still recovering from Kath's comment that someone was wearing an anklet under tights. I'm afraid that's much more distressing than a terse 'excuse me' to a foreign, disabled pastry struggler.

Bee said...

If he was disabled, you probably could have picked up the bun and given it back to him without him knowing it was now contaminated.

Suggestion for next time.

davey said...

Eleanor, he was wearing an anklet too, did I mention that?

Thanks Bee, but I hadn't planned on shoulder barging disabled people anymore. I'm strictly a terminal illness harasser now. That's where the glory is.

Kath Lockett said...

Where are you Davey?

Stop feeling sorry for yourself for a moment and check out this Tassie blogger - found him by chance and he's absolutely farkin hilarious:

http://junginasheepskin.blogspot.com/

kath xo