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Superman & the Hail Stone

May 21, 2012

I was sitting on my front porch swing yesterday taking a short rest between honey-do tasks when all the sudden I heard a KERPLUNK – and then another – and another. White marshmallows were flying through the air like missiles littering my freshly cut lawn.

I then made a decision for which I blame on my state of puzzlement. I decided to examine one of these foreign objects.

I stepped away from the security of my porch roof, leaving whatever brain I possessed in the swing. Frankly, calling me stupid would be an insult to stupid people.

I hadn’t taken but three strides into the danger zone when it struck. Standing there dazed I wondered what in the name of Pelican Pete had just happened. A three inch frozen stalactite hit me so hard in the back of the head that it knocked my dog out.

I said to myself, “Great horny toads that smarts!” It was clear that the Big Guy had it in for me.

I picked up the object so the paramedics would know when they arrived what caused my broken cranium. With the frozen evidence in hand I staggered back to my swing trying to decide which of six I should sit in. It was clear that the light was on, but nobody was home.

That was the last thing I remembered before seeing the paramedic with the shock paddles. I’m usually not a praying man, but as I laid there on my porch, I looked up into the sky and said, “If you’re up there, please save me Superman.


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