What was your brush with the improbable?

As a Canadian, I take no responsibility for the actions of our geese. Especially since they were here illegally.

 

Sounds like a form of divine retribution to me. Did you insult the Goose God recently, perhaps without realizing it?

 

Sounds like the Gary Larson, The Far Side cartoon showing a deer with a bullseye on their chest. The other deer says, "Bummer of a birthmark Charlie!"

 

<div class='quotetop'>QUOTE(jared2 @ May 5 2006, 08:00 AM) [snapback]250217[/snapback]</div>

:lol:

 

Speaking of Farside cartoons, this is one of my favorites.





My boss has told me never to piss off crows. They will come after you. He was shooting birds with a bb gun one day as a kid. He shot a crow, and the crow flew off. Moments later there were 30 or more crows flying towards him, all dropping bombs.

 

When I was younger and stupider, I picked up hitchhikers in selected situations. I had scary things happen TWICE. (I'll relate the second one later if anyone's interested.)

I was driving my still-fairly-newlywed wife on an errand, at night, in the rain, in Syracuse, NY. I stopped to pick up a "respectable-looking" middle-aged guy in a trench coat, thinking he needed only to go a few blocks. My wife turned around and opened the rear passenger-side door for him to get in.

I started to drive and asked where he was going> He was silent for several ominous seconds, then said, "You don't know who I am, do you?" I said to myself , "Uh-oh!" and responded to him, as brightly as I could muster, "No! Are you performing at the War Memorial tonight?".

"I was on the front page of the paper Monday", he said. "Didn't you read about that murder?"

I felt the urine start to surge somewhere down there. My wife glanced at me in terror. Through a long series of glances and tiny head nods, I thought I got my wife to understand that on my signal, we'd both quickly jump out of the moving car (if necessary) and let the car plow into something solid, if it could be found without endangering someone else. Mean-while, I glanced back at our passenger, who had one hand in a trenchcoat pocket. A gun! Of course!

I engaged him in stupid conversation, desparately looking for a police station or some other well-lighted place. Lo and behold, the main Police Building came into view (I hadn't known where it was)!

I quickly pulled over to the curb and my wife and I jumped out on my command. Mr. trenchcoat slowly started to get out of his door. A man came out of the Police HQ and walked toward us. "Is this guy bothering you?", he asked.

Turned out the guy was a marginally-crazy, well-known (to the police) petty criminal who did all sorts of weird and stupid things.

It took about 48 hours to get the ol' pulse back to normal after that one.

 

OMG!! How scary!

My uncle used to pick up hitchikers when he and my aunt lived in Mt Shasta, CA. Once I was with him when he picked one up...he got hell for it once my aunt found out. I was 5 or 6 at the time. I would hate to think of what might have happened if the fellow he picked up had been a dangerous person or criminal.

 

<div class='quotetop'>QUOTE(Sufferin' Prius Envy @ May 5 2006, 03:01 PM) [snapback]250485[/snapback]</div>

Topic heading said "brush with the improbable". 'Scuse me for stupidly misinterpreting.

 

Years after Richard Ramirez (the Night Stalker) was imprisoned for his serial killing spree here in Los Angeles I found out that the summer he had been most active in killing people, both here Los Angeles and in San Francisco, he'd had a crash pad. It was under my apartment. More specifically, it was under my bedroom.

My blood still runs cold when I think about it.

 

My brush with the improbably.... On my way to work one morning, as I was locking my front door, I a felt a moist splat on the arm. Thinking I probably had been hit by bird-do, I looked down, only to discover I'd been hit by a falling frog! The poor little toad lay at my feet, belly up, I thought its impact with me had killed it. I gently did a little froggy CPR with my foot and he sprung back to life and hopped away.

 

Exchanging my truck keys for the Prius FOB...

Part of me is STILL kicking myself for it...

h34r:


Other than that, appearing in the background of a pic. my ex GF took a long time before she knew me... She was 4 years older and lived in an entirely different town...



tee-hee

 

My daughter always had a target on her. Poor kid would get pelted so often that she started to carry clean clothes with her. I'm more of a step in it person....

Even my dog has learned not to tick off the crows though. We have tons around here. She used to chase them but they would come back dive bombing close enough to raise the fur on her back. She doesn't chase birds anymore, especially crows.