I feel that a reason you are reading this blog is to learn a bit about me.  Well, turns out, the biggest parts of my life aren't me at all, but my dear old friend Little Boy Pimp.  Just so we are clear, that nickname, that I developed over two years ago, has no legitimate origin and I have no idea where it came from. Anyway,  in this post I will not clearly state who this person is, but if you can guess than good for you.  This particular idiot and I have spent a fair amount of time together the last few years. But, I guess that is how it's supposed to be with best friends. Before I mention any stories, I want to tell you one of my favorite jokes mentioned to me by this person.

"What do you call a biker gang made up of norse bisexual monarchs?"
"What?"
"The Bikings"

     For who of you do not understand that joke, I am truly sorry because that is hands down the best joke on the face of this Earth.  Back to the point, I have had many strange memories with this person.  If it is four in the morning as we down approximately two pounds if Swedish Fish in my basement, or dancing with pizza in an apartment in NYC, we have very interesting experiences.  My particular favorite of these experiences was when we were doing construction on a house.  We were instructed to take the insulation out of the walls and take the drywall off the the walls and ceiling.  So I find myself in the garage of this house when I hear this person yell, "Brycceeeeee," considering how dangerous this job actually is, I quickly run to his location in the hope he hasn't accidentally impaled himself with a large axe.  When I had last seen him, he was taking off dry wall from the ceiling.  He was standing on some scaffolding with a pile of  insulation next to him.  When I finally got to him, I found him buried in the pile of insulation.  Turns out he had fallen off the scaffolding and thankfully landed in the pile.

     Weirdly that was not the closest we were to death while in that house. (We really should stop working there) Once we had to remove the dry wall from a ceiling in a stair well.  This became an issue... We needed to somehow reach the ceiling...which keep in mind was twenty feet above the stairs.  After a few minutes of debate, we concluded we were going to find a way to put the scaffolding in the stair well and somehow complete our task.  Because the legs of the scaffolding do not go at different heights, we had to put books between the stair and the leg of the scaffolding. After quite a bit of struggle, we found ourselves standing on a very unstable base,  with a twenty foot drop onto stairs.  We could feel the base shift as we passed each other the hammer (if you understand that reference, I love you).  Luckily, we somehow surpassed deaths attempt to meet us.

Got this from memecrunch.com

Another post will come soon.