No ideas for a post for nearly a month and then a rash of events pronounce themselves within a narrow time span. That’s how it seems these things happen. Today’s post relates to my newfound time consumer. Juggling. Not with three balls however, but one soccer ball. More specifically this relates to the loss of FOUR soccer balls. However I have not set the scene in which this event occurred. Heritage hall was built in the late 80’s and houses roughly half of Western Oregon University’s freshman students. The building is really quite intelligently built and aesthetically symmetrical. In front of this four-story building are two patches of grass split by the front entrance. The right side patch is where I have asserted my area for juggling with my neighbors Rob, Tim, and occasionally Matt. Here begins my account of the lost soccer balls. On Friday the 14th Matt’s ball was thrust unto the roof in a bet between Tim and I over whether he could throw the ball onto the roof. Honestly, its four stories! Needless to say the ball will never be seen again. On Tuesday the 18th after my warning Tim punted a ball of my own, which I had retrieved from my house, needlessly and misdirected off his foot. This placed my ball within the clutches of the cruel miser. On Friday the 21st a similar event occurred in which Tim punted the ball AGAIN this time onto another portion of the pitiless magpie. Today is Sunday the 23rd. A cruel twist of fate has left me bereft of my latest purchased soccer ball. My neighbor Rob pulled a feat I believe only possible by Tim. He punted the ball, but not high enough to reach roof level however. Instead once the ball reached a level of elevation equal to that of the fourth story it deflected off a wall and into a window that was open a mere 45 degrees. My soccer balls have been abused in varying manners; they have been punted onto concrete, they have been cast into perilous bushes and removed of thorns, once a ball was run over by a car. None of these however, match the obscurity of the sight I have seen today. Rob now has 24 hours to retrieve the ball from its stronghold or suffer $10 in penalty. Here ends the report on the loss of 4 spheres, which have brought my hours of entertainment. Good night America.
No ideas for a post for nearly a month and then a rash of events pronounce themselves within a narrow time span. That’s how it seems these things happen. Today’s post relates to my newfound time consumer. Juggling. Not with three balls however, but one soccer ball. More specifically this relates to the loss of FOUR soccer balls. However I have not set the scene in which this event occurred. Heritage hall was built in the late 80’s and houses roughly half of Western Oregon University’s freshman students. The building is really quite intelligently built and aesthetically symmetrical. In front of this four-story building are two patches of grass split by the front entrance. The right side patch is where I have asserted my area for juggling with my neighbors Rob, Tim, and occasionally Matt. Here begins my account of the lost soccer balls. On Friday the 14th Matt’s ball was thrust unto the roof in a bet between Tim and I over whether he could throw the ball onto the roof. Honestly, its four stories! Needless to say the ball will never be seen again. On Tuesday the 18th after my warning Tim punted a ball of my own, which I had retrieved from my house, needlessly and misdirected off his foot. This placed my ball within the clutches of the cruel miser. On Friday the 21st a similar event occurred in which Tim punted the ball AGAIN this time onto another portion of the pitiless magpie. Today is Sunday the 23rd. A cruel twist of fate has left me bereft of my latest purchased soccer ball. My neighbor Rob pulled a feat I believe only possible by Tim. He punted the ball, but not high enough to reach roof level however. Instead once the ball reached a level of elevation equal to that of the fourth story it deflected off a wall and into a window that was open a mere 45 degrees. My soccer balls have been abused in varying manners; they have been punted onto concrete, they have been cast into perilous bushes and removed of thorns, once a ball was run over by a car. None of these however, match the obscurity of the sight I have seen today. Rob now has 24 hours to retrieve the ball from its stronghold or suffer $10 in penalty. Here ends the report on the loss of 4 spheres, which have brought my hours of entertainment. Good night America.
1 comments:
Im sorry to hear about what happened to your balls. Goddamn you Rob.
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