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Old Feb 26, 2005, 12:52 PM   #21
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There are some more toes on the backside of my perch.
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Old Feb 26, 2005, 1:06 PM   #22
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This fellow deliberately covered his toes, just when I was goint to shoot.:sad::sad:


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Old Feb 26, 2005, 1:13 PM   #23
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wise wrote:
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This fellow deliberately covered his toes, just when I was goint to shoot.:sad::sad:

*
He ( and I think I can say "he" with a fare degree of certainty) should have been more concerned about covering something else! :O
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Old Feb 26, 2005, 1:25 PM   #24
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Always trying to go two different ways at once. It almost never works.

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Old Feb 26, 2005, 1:55 PM   #25
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Okay, since I've already received several PM's about "the accident" (see my previous post...), and as I am drinking kale-spinach-wheat grass-garlic, and celery juice (and one drinks such concoctions as slowly as one might imagine) for the benefit of the forum I adore, I will tell my sad tale of why I can only post a picture of my left foot. Here goes.
________________________________________________

"My Right Foot"

All my life - for as long as I could remember, I longed to own a beautiful feathered boa. So I decided to make my dream come true. Each and every day, for many years, I religiously put exactly one penny into a glass jar I had labeled with a marker on masking tape, "Nick's Feathered Boa Savings Account".

Years went by until finally - finally(!), I had saved up enough pennies to purchase the beautiful feathered boa I had longed for all my life. I had already selected the exact one I wanted from a from a San Francisco-based catalog company, which specialized in feathered boas. It was the absolute best feathered boa money could buy, "made with the feathers of exactly nine colorful and exotic birds," as stated in the ad in their catalog. I deposited my money, and quickly filled out the order form and mailed my check in the exact amount of 1 (one) "Super Deluxe Feathered Boa Made with the Feathers of Exactly Nine Colorful and Exotic Birds", plus shipping.

I could hardly wait for my feathered boa to arrive in the mail. Each and every day for nearly two weeks, I ran to meet the mailman half-way up the block. "Sorry, Sir. No feathered boa delivery for you today." And, each day until it arrived, I walked home utterly disappointed.

When it finally arrived, I rudely ripped the parcel out of the mailman's hands, before he could finish saying, "Gotchyer feathered boa, si...," I ran home and frantically ripped apart the box. I had never been so excited in my entire life! I held the feathered boa up into the light and inspected it carefully. The beautiful colors from the feathers of exactly nine exotic birds were breathtaking. It was all I could have imagined and more! And, I don't mind admitting to you that I wept as I hugged my precious feathered boa tight against my chest. It was my pride and joy.

Of course, I couldn't wait to show it off, so I carefully positioned my new and coveted feathered boa around my neck. It was luxurous and glorious, and its feathers felt like silk against my skin. Absolutely beaming, with a grin from ear to ear, I stepped out of my house for walk with no other intention than to show off my prized possession.

I passed a neighbor trimming his hedges. "That's a mighty fine feathered boa ya got thar neighbor," said my neighbor. "Why this old thing?" I said. Nearly everyone I passed admired my feathered boa. Most said nothing, but simply starred. I had never owned anything that made people envious of me before. I admit I liked the feeling. I walked with my head held high, beamimg with pride.

As I continued to walk, I noticed a woman in the distance approaching me from the opposite direction. She walked with a pronounced limp. I felt sorry for her. Perhaps she was lame, I thought. As she came closer I could tell that the reason she was walking with a limp was - indeed, not due to being lame but rather because she was missing a shoe! She was wearing a floral mini-skirt and a purple blouse, and had long brown hair and glasses. She had a black six inch stilleto on one foot, but her other foot was bare! Somehow she lost or had broken her other shoe, and now had to walk, uncomfortabley, with only one shoe I surmised. She had not yet come close enough to discern her age.

Being a chivalrous gentleman, I thought I might offer her my shoes and socks to wear for the rest of her walk. I sat on the curb to remove them. Just as I had removed my second sock, the woman with one shoe made her way to where I was sitting by the curb.

"May I inquire as to what you are doing?" looking down at me sitting one the curb, the woman with one shoe said. I sprung to my feet and faced her. Now that she was close I was taken aback at how unattractive the woman was. She was, perhaps, the most plain woman I had ever seen. Apart from missing a shoe, I noticed her legs were unshaven, and thick with hair. She also had hairy wrists. Even her face looked like she could use a shave. She was too old to be wearing such a short skirt - quite frankly, and her greasy brown hair had streaks of gray. Her voice was deep and gravely - not feminine at all. She had a pronounced adams apple, and I guessed she was about 50. She look familiar. "Yes!" I thought to myself, as I recalled where I had seen her face before. She looked quite a lot like a man named, Ted, who worked in the neighborhood bakery shop. Perhaps they were related.

"I saw that you had lost one of your shoes," I said, "and thought I might offer you my shoes and socks to wear for the rest of your walk. I will give you my address, and you can return my socks and shoes to me when you get home."

"That's very kind of you. But never mind about your shoes and socks," said the plain woman who was missing a shoe, "I want that feathered boa! That belongs to me, and you know it!" The plain woman wearing one she insisted that I had won this particular feathered boa from her in a poker game but she later found out that I had cheated. Although I assured her that we had never met, and that I did not even know how to play poker, she stubbornly insisted that I hand over my coveted feathered boa to her. Of course, I refused.

Then, with a maniacal look in her eyes, she reached into her purse and pulled out a medium size philips head screwdriver. She jabbed it into my chest. "Hand over my feathered boa, mister, or I'll poke you so full of holes with this here philips head screwdriver, people will think you're a human cheese grater". My chest hurt where she had poked me with her screwdriver. The situation was serious, still, I simply could not hand her my cherished feathered boa that I had saved so many years to procure. I turned and I fled!

Unfortunately, I could not run nearly as fast as the situation called for. For - apart from now being barefoot, I had developed several corns and an ingrown toe nail on my feet but had neglected to have them tended to by a podiatrist. The road was more gravely than the plain woman's voice. And, if this weren't bad enough, in my attempt to flee, I stepped on an old rusty nail that pierced deeply into my foot. Each step caused excrutiating pain!

I tried to run but the pain was too great. I couldn't stand much more of it. Must save my feathered boa. Ahhh! I yelled with each strained step. I could hear the cluthump of the plain woman's one shoe getting louder and louder! I was fortunate that the plain woman was also hobbled by the fact that she had only one shoe. I turned to see how far behind me she was. She was gaining on me, only a few yards away, hobbling as she ran, brandishing the philips head screw driver. However, because I had turned, I failed to see the construction crew working on the road just in front of me. I turned around just in time to see a large steamroller merely inches away from my right foot.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh! I yelled as the huge steamroller slowly, agonizingly, rolled over my foot. When it had passed I looked down at my poor right foot, which had been flattened by the weight of the steamroller. What was once my right foot, now resembled a diver's right flipper, and my five toes looked like those little silver dollar pancakes they serve at the IHOP.

If this wasn't bad enough, the plain woman with one shoe, who thought my beautiful boa was stolen from her, seized the opportunity to snatch it from my neck, and ran - as best as she could, considering she had only one shoe.

"My Boa! My Boa!" I cried. But it was too late. She, along with my pride and joy, were gone. Gone forever.

Months later, after I recouperated from the accident involving the steamroller, I went to neighborhood bakery shop to procure a glazed donut. To my amazement, there was Ted, the neighborhood bakery employee, who I mentioned earlier bore a remarkable resemblance to the plain woman with one shoe, who had stolen my beautiful boa; he was wearing the exact same beautiful feathered boa with the colorful feathers from nine exotic birds as was stolen from me! There was a pregnant pause as we starred uneasily at each other.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"That's quite a beautiful feathered boa, Ted" I said.

"Never mind about the boa, what do you want?" he said quite rudely. I placed an order for one glazed donut. Just a coincidence, I thought. After all, I can't go through my entire life thinking every feathered boa made with the colorful feathers from nine exotic birds was the same one that was stolen from me by the ugly woman wearing one shoe. And besides, despite the resemblance, Ted - the neighborhood bakery employee, is a man, not a woman.


... and that's the reason why I can only post a picture of my left foot here on Steve's Panasonic Forum.





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Old Feb 26, 2005, 2:10 PM   #26
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Nick, If you are looking for movie rights for this story as a sequel to "My Left Foot" I think it's going to be a hard sell. Good luck with that though,

smac

Hey! After reading that novel, where's the "foot"? I feel cheated.

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Old Feb 26, 2005, 2:25 PM   #27
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Nick, that's a sad story..........................but where's the left foot pic
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Old Feb 26, 2005, 2:32 PM   #28
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nooner wrote:
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Nick, that's a sad story..........................but where's the left foot pic
Previous page (page one), previous post.
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Old Feb 26, 2005, 2:37 PM   #29
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My God :shock:..............your foot looks like a Golden Retriever:!:

PS:arrow:I woulda beat the tar outta Ted anyway:idea:
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Old Feb 26, 2005, 3:04 PM   #30
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nooner wrote:
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PS:arrow:I woulda beat the tar outta Ted anyway:idea:
Just can't do it, nooner. Although he bears an uncanny resemblance to the woman with one shoe who stole my precious feathered boa, and caused my right foot to be run over by a steam rollet, the theif was a woman. It's all circumstantial.
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