Bryan, my current post represents the
pun torture you have bestowed upon me. The challenge shall be completed thanks to my handy thesaurus. Above and beyond what you expect equals my goal.
My least recent act of utter embarrassment was when my head became lodged underneath the couch located near a wall that held up the photographs of my Mamaw and Papaw’s computer room. We do not know how exactly my head got stuck, but we do remember my outcry of sheer terror as my problem became clearer for my young, uneducated head. My brother and aunt and uncle’s son had the nerve to not help me as my vocal cords uttered, “Guys, my head got stuck.” The dust that clouded my lungs left me very scared. When my dad showed up to take me and my brother home, he gasped and wondered how my problem unfolded, but was able to elevate the couch enough for me to safely transport my head to a place no longer underneath the couch.
The year before my seventh grade at my school’s Spell Bowl meet at Barnabus, the word was balloon. My uneducated thought process told me to spell balloon by means of only one “L.” Low and behold, as the words were spelled off, none of my words had been wrong. Word number seven, balloon, or on my paper, baloon, was my only word left unmarked. As my team eagerly sat as they hoped for a perfect score from me, the word pops up and my proctor was unable to award me my beloved last word. Bryan, my memory seems to recall you competed a few seats down from me, also unable to spell balloon.
My vocal cords cracked once all through one of my many seventh grade geography projects on South Korea. One of these cracks was so loud that the blast actually encompassed enough sheer force to awake my slumber-bound teacher. However, he worked three jobs and must have been very sleepy. Shocker, my efforts were rewarded as my grade on the project was a one hundred percent. He even gave me a “Good job!” regardless of my vocal cords not able to speak the soul major export of South Korea. You can look the export up, but my hunch tells me that a colleague whose last name equals Horan lacks the self-control not to comment the word exactly how my young mouth pronounced the word.
Those, Bryan are three of my most memorable acts of utter embarrassment. Hopefully, you look past the fact that my post encompasses zero of the number between second and fourth vowel of the alphabet. You know, the one before “J,” but after “H.” Yes, that one! Also, because my post went well over four hundred and forty words, you should be very proud of my work.
My posts return to normal on the day after tomorrow.
Goodbye Bryan and other assorted followers.