March 06, 2007
nothing is happening here contest

mostly i just sit around and complain that my foot/ankle/leg hurts.

or my butt from all the sitting. or my hands from the crutches, or my delicate flowery heart from the fact that scut farkas never called. just kidding, i don't care that he never called. i'd rather hear from the lawyer.

since it gets really boring telling people what happened, i have invented a game where i get to tell a new story whenever i feel like it. i'm going to give you some brief and under-developed examples, and then i am holding a contest, wherein you could actually win a prize*, based on who makes up the best** story about how i broke my damn ankle. please post it in the comments section.

* you can see past contests and prizes over here and here.
**best means whatever i feel like right then.

example one: the original
i was attacked by ninjas. tiny ninjas. and i have obviously proven myself very mighty indeed, as they only broke my ankle. those feeble tiny ninjas, so feeble. and also tiny.

example two: via some dude at the lava lounge
i fell off the stage in a jennifer connelly look-a-like contest. celebrating my win of course.

example three: at the march meeting of "wine club"
this is what happens when you become an official member of wine club. and from then on, you can't talk about wine club.

example four: also at wine club
i was on pimp my ride, and xhibit totally ran over my foot. he was really nice about it though, and i got to be on tv.

now you go. and don't skimp on things like strippers, super powers, crystal meth, feathers, and gratuitous nudity.


Anonymous ariel said...

Hey wait! I made up two of those four stories, shouldn't I already get a prize??!?!?!

Blogger Faith said...

Of course you were in a sling in the back of a sex club when someone got distracted, didn't see your leg up in the air and in a rush to get to your body, broke your ankle.

Anonymous Jurgen Nation said...

I thought you were at a Bryan Adams concert and the mosh pit got so violent that, during one of his rousing guitar solos, you got trampled (you know how his crowd gets). You were unconscious for a few hours, but it was worth it because Bryan and the gang signed your cast.

Blogger Brookelina said...

Sex while skydiving always results in an injury of some sort.

Anonymous Kathy said...

See, what I heard was that you went to Sting's seminar on Tantric lovin', and you were picked for the audience participation portion and things became a bit heated. That Trudy, she's a fright when she gets mad!

Blogger Spinning Girl said...

This comment has been removed by the author.

Blogger Spinning Girl said...


Local heroine Miss Kendra was injured in a chase through neighborhood streets that ended in the arrest of longtime illegal ivory merchant Howie Feltersnatch. This international criminal attempted to evade police after a soured $15 million handoff of Alaskan narwhal scrimshaw. His journey via rickshaw (pulled by Siamese twins Ting and Tong Ballawallabingbang) was thwarted when Miss K, out for a midday trot on her Shetland Pony, accidentally blocked Feltersnatch's access to the highway. She headed the vehicle off at the corner of Main and Maine, causing the rickety wagon to bounce off of three pedestrians and come to a sliding stop in front of Mehardt's Mini Meats. Sheriff's deputy Reid Mehardt rushed out of his shop and made the arrest. Miss Kendra, who sustained a mild ankle injury in the incident, will be honored with the Keys to the City next Thursday.

Blogger Laurie Ann said...

It was a sunny day and everything was A-OK. Miss Kendra was taking a stroll down Sesame Street when suddenly a flash of blue fur flew out of the alley beside Mr. Hooper's store and a powerful jaw clamped down on her ankle. The wild-eyed assailant soon abandoned his attack when he realized his victim only smelled like cookies and was not an actual cookie. Miss Kendra escaped with a broken ankle. The assailant is still at large.

(ps...I vote for Spinning Girl. Hee hee Howie Feltersnatch.)

Blogger jiggs said...

there was a terrible car accident! And trapped in the backseat was a box full of a dozen chubby little kittens! The gasoline from the car was oozing towards the open flame and time was of the essence!

The car door was locked. The only way for you to free the kittens was to use your foot as a crowbar. You shoved your toes in the cracked window and used your immense leg strength to rip off the car door.

Then you grabbed the kittens and set off, barely outrunning the giant fireball that sparked moments after you grabbed the kitties.

Then, after setting the kittens down and trying to catch your breath, you trip and break your ankle.

Blogger Quirkalot said...

Miss Kendra got a phone call in the middle of the night from Britney Spears. Due to the fact that Miss Kendra could really care less, she hung up on the phsychotic pop star before getting any explanation. The next day, there was a port on Perez Hilton with two pictures. One was of Britney in all her ugly baldness, and the other was of Miss Kendra when she was 16. Perez noted that Miss Kendra knows how to DO bald, while Britney failed miserably. Due to the fact that Miss Kendra has no connection to Britney Spears, she was angered by the fact that her coworkers kept bugging her. "How do you know her?" "What's your connection?" So, Miss Kendra decided to go home and take a nap. Her boss then stood directly in front of her, blocking the door and asking for Britney's autograph for his teenage daughter. Miss Kendra just wanted to get home, so she shoved past him but got her ankle stuck in the revolving door. Things would have been alright for her ankle, but Miss Kendra's boss was so incensed with her behavior that he angrily jerked the door tighter... at which point Miss Kendra was in so much pain she began to see tiny ninjas dressed in kilts.

Blogger jamwall said...

that howie feltersnatch has come a long way from his recent degree indrawing things.

Blogger Monkey said...

Tiny Ninjas can be so cruel.


You were in the grocery store, purchasing fruits and vegetables when you were attacked by monkeys. The banana display fell on your foot and the monkeys used your inner arch for a table. And then they pooped. Oh did they poo.

Blogger Tim said...

scut farkas broke your foot after you hit him in the face with a snowball.

Blogger anonymouscoworker said...

You were tied to the bed of an online stalker who put a 4x4 between your ankles and then snapped one with a sledgehammer so you couldn't run away and were forced to finish a new post for them.

Bonus points if the person asks if you just got that from the movie Misery.

Blogger Colleen said...

While hot gluing tassles to all of her work shirts, Miss Kendra almost tripped over the cord when she got up to answer the phone. "My luck really has changed!" She declared. On the phone she chatted daintily with her latest stalker, wished him a good night. As she turned around Leonard Nimoy was purring it up next to the last shirt she glued a tassle to. Not wanting to disturb his lovin', she briskly walked into the kitchen for a warm, home-baked cookie when the viking she took home from the club last night woke up and axed his way out of her cubbard. Where else was she to keep such a burly man? As his axe came periously close to her delicate, flowery senses, she fainted. Only to wake up in the hospital with a broken ankle and Dr. McHotty unwrapping her...bandages.

Anonymous Anonymous said...

It was a day, much like today, and you were walking down the same street that you walk down everyday. When all of a sudden, you find yourself wandering on to the set of a new lifetime movie ("The Holidays" set to premiere around Thanksgiving).

"What's going on here" you ask.
"We're filming a movie for lifetime." the camera man responds.
"Oh yeah, anyone famous in it?" you ask.
"No, not really." is the answer.

Then all of a sudden a familiar face from your past appears.

"Nobody famous!?! What about me?" he says.

"Oh yeah, you." says the camera man.

"Wait...hold on. I know who you are. Give it a minute...." you say as you think of who it is that is staring back at you.

"Jesus fucking christ. I fucking hate this. It's bad enough that I'm doing a lifetime movie. But that people can't remember who I am? This is fucking ridiculous." says the unknown man.

Then as if fate were a fickle feathered ferret, Alanis Morrisette walks up.

"Are you in the movie?!? Now that's someone that's famous!" You exclaim.

"No, I'm not. But I'm here, to remind him. Of the mess he left when he went away. It's not fair. To deny me. Of the cross I bared that he gave to me. He, he, he, oughtta know!" She says, while glaring at the still unknown man.

"Oh...crap. Who is it?!? Alanis will you help me?"

But before she could answer, Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen walk up.

"Hey there. I know we haven't talked for a while, but me and Mary Kate are in need of some advice. Does this dildo make our asses look big?" Ashley asks, as she shoves a two sided dildo into her and her sister's anus.

"No" replies the man. "It's hot."

"Oh, really?" says Mary Kate as she starts touching and kissing her sister.

"Hey!" says the man. "Cut-it-out!"

"That's it! It's Dave Coulier, Uncle Joey from Full House!" you shout.

Just then, a disgruntled John Stamos drives up in his Geo Metro, and runs all of you over. Luckily, at the last minute, you performed a matrix style jump/kick and stalled in the air. All that was hurt was your ankle. But at least you got Stamos'd.

Anonymous Pink Sara said...

Recently, you discovered that you are actually the Greek warrior Achilles. In order for you to defeat your foes, the best thing you can do is protect your ankle. The rest of the cast/crutches getup is just to make the ankle protection look normal.

Blogger Spinning Girl said...

You may need to subject these to a vote, Idol-style.

(I will bang anyone who votes for me. Or even if you don't; I'm not picky)

Blogger Sarah Smile said...

"Shark attack."

Anonymous Uccellina said...

"Maybe this year, my luck will improve,"
Miss Kendra mused idly one day.
"In March I'll dance naked, in April I'll move;
I'll be rich and famous by May.

"Surely," she said, "it's about fucking time."
And at that thought she grinned and was merry.
Then she screamed as her ankle was snapped by a mime,
"Damn you to hell, February!"

Blogger Princess Pointful said...

Surely next time you'll learn not to buy shoes with giant suction cups on the bottom off ebay. The Cambodians only make 8 cents an hour to make those puppies, so they aren't too stringent on the quality control. They just used an Elmers glue stick to stick section cups on the bottom of Wal-Mart brand athletic shoes.
I'm sure it made David Hasselhoff tingle a little when he saw you peer into his 17th story window, though... right before you plummetted into the KFC dumpster below.

Blogger Übermilf said...

Patrick Swayze spotted you from across the street. He dodged four lanes of traffic, then swept you into his arms.

He began to twirl you around in an angelic dance, then a waltz, then a tango.

Finally, during a rousing polka, he stepped on your foot, causing you to twist your ankle.

Then, as you lay writhing in pain on the sidewalk, he ran away. Because Patrick Swayze is evil.

Blogger Trevor said...

You were on way too many pills and fell over.

Blogger Melliferous Pants said...

You were rocking out to your favorite artist, Richard Marx. Things got a little crazy when you drank too much water, nearly O.D.'d, in fact.

While under heavy H20 intoxication, you saw Gary Coleman walking down the street, ran to him, picked him up like a baby and craddled him while singing.

Oceans apart day after day
And I slowly go insane
I hear your voice on the line
But it doesn't stop the pain

Unfortunately, you didn't notice that crack in the sidewalk during you serenade, which is how you tripped and jacked your ankle.

And to top it all off, Gary Coleman won't return you calls, as if the connection you two shared Don't Mean Nothin'.

Blogger The Roy said...

So you had a friend over to your apartment and were watching In Search Of…, which for some reason was on network TV, when the trailer for that new action movie came on.

You know, the one where that dude who vaguely looks like the singer from System of a Down pulls a sword on some other dude who’s got piercings (and happens to be the only brother in town). Then dude says “what’s with the sword man, this is like, madness and some shit” and the other dude, eyes wide and jowls-a-trembling yells “Madness? THIS IS SPARTA” as he totally chestfoots the guy backwards into the nearest convenient pit (cause Sparta’s racist like that).

Racism aside, once the dude started flying backwards in slow-mo to that Nine Inch Nails song, part of you totally got psyched. Shamed by this, you said to your friend “hey, let’s get out of here, I need some fresh air. Could you grab me my coat?” Over by the doorway he turned to you and said “You mean this one?” Turning to look, you saw him holding what was obviously not a coat at all. Something happened: you felt a rage wash over you. Your fists clenched tight, you slowly walked over to him. “Coat?” you said. Eyes blazing with the fire of 1,000 flame licked Whoppers, you stared into his very soul and cried “THAT’S MY PARKA!” You then sent him flying backwards through your front door with a kick to the chest so powerful it made Gandhi cry.

After you had someone come to fix the front door, you decided to step out into the fair city and see where this newfound confidence and power would take you. Stopping at a corner newsstand you heard two teenage hipsters arguing back and forth. “No way,” one said, “it’s gotta be Alex Trebek.” The other says “I swear dude, my step-mom watched that shit all the fucking time and his name’s Rod Roddy or some shit like that.”

You turned to the kids and say “excuse me, what are you two talking about.” “Not that it’s any of your business lady, but this dumbfuck thinks the host of The Price is Right is Rob Roddy or some shit. What the hell’s a Rob Roddy anyway?” The other says “Well at least I know it’s not Jeopardy’s Alex Trebek like this asshole. Hey lady, you wouldn’t happen to know who the host of The Price is Right was, wouldya?” You took a deep breath. Calm washed over you before you roared “IT’S BOB BARKER!” while booting the little punk into traffic.

The keeper of the newsstand stared at you dumbfounded as you asked him for the latest issue of Bead and Button. “Excuse me!” you said, snapping, “Bead and Button? I don’t have all day.” Slack jawed and still wearing his expression of amazement, he didn’t break eye contact as he reached behind the counter and handed you a magazine. You looked at the cover and were immediately flushed with disgust. He trembled as your gaze bore down onto him. “I don’t think you heard me right, because THIS IS MARTHA!” Kapow, you turn the newsstand into a shower of paper and splinters with one kick of your extreme extremity.

You decided head out before the cops showed up. Along the way you passed a sidewalk café where you overheard a man talking to a woman who seems bored with his conversation. “Then Keanu’s character finds out he’s being framed by, by, aw dammit,” he says, “I can’t remember the name of it. It’s the government organization that’s responsible for coming up with new technology for weapons. It’s, it’s, “ he snaps his fingers, “it’s an acronym. Starts with a D I think. God, why can’t I remember?” You stopped, realizing you knew what he was talking about. But what was it called? Suddenly you couldn’t remember either. Doopa? Drappa? Dingo? Wait! That’s right!

“Please pardon the interruption as I don’t mean to intrude,” you said, leaning over their table, “but I think I know what you’re thinking of.” “God, it’s killing me!” the man said. The woman rolled her eyes. “Yeah,” you said, lifting your leg. “IT IS DARPA!” With a lightning bolt kick to his chest, he flew up out of his seat and through the plate glass window of the café while doves flew out through the falling glass John Woo style. It was both horrible and beautiful.

You decided to go back home, but on your way saw a shoe store and thought “I really deserve a pair of shoes after the day I’ve had.” Inside you saw a pair of leopard print heels and loved them so much you decided to wear a pear out of the store. On your first step outside though the heel broke and you totally fucked up your leg. It’s cool though, cause they replaced them with another pair for free.

Blogger Tits McGee said...

Those fucking unicorns, man.

God damn it. Hold on a sec, I have to take off my bra.

Anyway, those fucking unicorns, man. Everything was just fine until you had to go ask them if they'd ever tried meth. Those fuckers can't handle that shit, man. They're like ponies! Little girl ponies! They can't even hold their liquor! All that stumbling around, someone was bound to get hurt.

You need me to rub that for you, baby? Sure, just take your pants off so I can reach it.

Okay, where was I? Right, so look - I still say it was a great night, even though I've been picking feathers out of my chocha ever since. And I am really sorry about your foot. I know the unicorn is, too. Next time maybe we should just hire the strippers without the animal act.

Blogger yournamehere said...

Top Ten Alternative Stories for How Kendra Broke Her Ankle

10. Caught in mad rush for Dukes of Hazard: The Beginning, Unrated Version at local Blockbuster.

9. Never laugh at Scut Farkus when he can't maintain an erection.

8. Slipped on the tears of her vanquished enemies.

7. Sometimes you get the midget in a gimp suit, sometimes the midget in a gimp suit gets you.

6. She's faking it for the 15% "handi-capable" discount at participating Red Lobsters.

5. Hey, Ike Turner told the bitch to fix him some dinner.

4. Bought a pair of ill-fated Nike "Air Fractures" basketball shoes.

3. When you have a three-way with Tits McGee and Spinning Girl, bones are gonna snap.

2. Refused to shave Britney Spears' head, paid the price.

1. "I broke it up the ass of someone who asked me a bunch of questions."

Blogger Brookelina said...

Todd has way too much free time.

Anonymous Anonymous said...

are you still alive?

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