I just about hit this chick in the shin with my pedal today when I was attempting to go down a flight of stairs. She just popped out of nowhere and got in my way. Being a gentleman, I decided not to kill her and sort of jumped off my unicycle, resulting in a twisted ankle.
So I guess I’ve come closer to killing myself than anyone else so far.
1.) knocked someone down with my unicycle and
2.) bored them to death making them watch me attempt the same stunt over and over again.
This requires that you take the phrase “bored to death” literally in order to qualify. Truthfully I would have to answer, “no,” but in a creative and figurative sense I can just squeak by saying “I have knocked someone down with my unicycle and killed them.”
i kill people all the time…i thought it was part of the learning process. i never brought it up cuz i thought it was so common. i cant count the number of baby strollers and seniors with walkers ive knocked into oncomming traffic or just knocked over hard enough to cause fatal trauma while riding my unicycle. i do it everyday!
You are obviously widely read JJuggle. Why, from that side of the pond, the SDR for God’s sake? I have only just realised that the death unicycle quote was from the article, and I am astonished that you managed to find it.
The article though is very funny and probably deserves a wider audience, so without JJuggle’s permission, I’ll tag it on here:
Nao
12 April 2006 Scottish Daily Record WE’RE NOW A NATION OF SCAREMONGERS
Tam Cowan
FAMOUS for being able to break your arm with one flap of a wing, I’d imagine not even the bravest of men (well, with the possible exception of Glasgow call centre worker Captain Sir Alan McIlwraith) would consider putting a much more delicate appendage within 3ft of one.
But I’ll say it anyway…
Hands up if you’ve ever indulged in a spot of sexual intercourse with a swan.
Sure, it’s a stupid remark (perhaps an obvious question for one or two lonely park-keepers) but bird flu is a seriously stupid subject.
I’m not a doctor. But trust me, folks, you’re only at risk if you have the sort of relationship with a swan that Rod Hull enjoyed with Emu. Which probably explains why Keith Harris has just invested in a pair of rubber gloves.
Meanwhile, it’s now a week since anyone saw Bernie Clifton riding his ostrich and the bird flu outbreak means veteran ventriloquist Ray Allan is terrified to go anywhere near Lord Charles. Don’t forget, the wee man’s got a woodpecker…
Sorry for treating this story with the contempt it deserves, but Napoleon was wrong. We’re not a nation of shopkeepers, we’re a nation of scaremongers. With President Bush threatening Iran with a nuclear strike, global warming gathering pace and Wagon Wheels looking smaller than ever, surely there are more important things to get our knickers in a twist about?
Bird flu? Sorry, but I’ll treat this subject with the same respect pigeons have for Nelson’s Column.
Last week’s headlines should have read “Something remotely interesting finally happens in Cellardyke”.
Let’s be honest, that was the real story so far as most people were concerned.
While welcoming any news item that’s big enough to keep the odious Pete Doherty out of the papers for a day or two, let’s put this tedious guff into some sort of perspective.
According to figures published last week, 108 people worldwide have died from bird flu.
Now, if the population of our planet was 250, yes, I’d probably start panicking.
But it’s not. 108? I’m willing to bet more people have died as a result of being knocked over by a unicyclist. Naturally, the animal activists have arrived on the scene. Dressed in white boiler suits and wearing masks, the tree-hugging, dirt-munching Druids marched through Edinburgh the other day. Their message?
Bird flu kills - go vegetarian.
Away and shove a carrot where the sun don’t shine. So much for caring about the environment, eh? Have these people ever stopped to think what a constant diet of cabbage, brocolli and Brussel sprouts does to the ozone layer?
Nae offence, ya bunch of mad dafties, but I’d sooner listen to someone whose marbles remain intact.
Such as poultry adviser Anna Jonas, who said last week: “As long as you are not drinking the raw blood of chickens, your risks are very low.”
Typical, eh? Just when I was getting a taste for it…
Anna’s tongue was firmly in her cheek, but her message is crystal clear -
DON’T PANIC.
I’d like to think swan will still be on the menu at the Queen’s 80th birthday party and I’d happily eat a cygnet supper from the Anstruther Fish Bar just down the hill from Cellardyke.
Yes, folks, even though I’ve just spent a week in the Canaries and despite the fact my granny’s cuckoo clock has started sneezing on the half hour, I’m not scared of bird flu.
However, unconfirmed reports suggest supermarkets in Airdrie have already cleared their shelves of Kestrel lager, Grouse whisky, Dove soap and Penguin biscuits.
And local residents have been spotted burning records and CDs by the Eagles, the Housemartins and Capercaille.
Seriously, though, I can think of a few people whose feathers may be well and truly ruffled. What about Jackie Bird? John Parrot? Charlie Drake? Alan Partridge? Robin Williams? Russell Crowe?Walter Pidgeon? Dan Quayle? Eddie The Eagle Edwards? Gregory Peck?
Plus, of course, big Fern Britton. She’s a gannet. And let’s not forget Noel Edmonds. According to the ornithology site I found on Google, there’s a bird called the bearded tit…
‘Airdrie supermarkets have cleared their shelves of Kestrel lager, dove soap and Penguins’
I can’t believe I’m responding to this thread before the “Have you ever smoked pot?” thread, but what the hell. It’s important to have your priorities straight…confess to murder before drug use.
To the best of my knowledge, I have never killed anyone while riding my unicycle. There may be gaps there…I’m prone to blackouts. On the other hand, people–well, Harper specifically–has tried to kill me while riding a unicycle. A simple “Hey your shoelace is untied” joke at high speed on a Coker can quickly turn from UPD to Deadly UPD. John Childs also makes regular attempts on my life by taunting me into trying to climb hills that can cause my heart to explode.
Probably my best “sports slaughter” story is the time I got a “birdie” playing golf. It was on the Tip O’Neil Memorial course in Cambridge, Mass, and I whacked a hard but low drive that bagged a browsing Canadian Goose about 50 yards out from the tee. It wasn’t a great hole for either of us.
This thread brings to mind a great line from those Ditty Bops you turned me on to:
"When you stomp your feet, you aren’t hurting me,
But you’re always killing something, just by living on the earth.
Yet each man kills the thing he loves
By each let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a unicycle!
Hmm you know i’ve never killed anyone but i’ve almost died on three accounts.
Choking on an orange(To save myself i reached into my throat and took it out make me sick on the spot)
Drowning in a wave pool back when i couldn’t swim (life guard plucked me out)
Racing my brother (on foot) and then he pushed me lightly so that he could get ahead but my momentum sent me into the corner of a metal fence ( I almost got my lung pierced but the metal pole just missed and instead almost broke a rib)
hehehe you can’t take death I"M INVINCIBLE!!!HAHAHAHAHHAHouch…papercut