<HONEA EXPRESS: Paul Pierce Has Got Nothing on Me

It finally happened. Honea Express has moved to greener pastures, or possibly just out to pasture -- you make the call.

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Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Paul Pierce Has Got Nothing on Me

Chances are that if you have a pair (a pair of anything will do) you've heard the story about Paul Pierce and the time that he was stabbed eleven(11) times in the neck and face and still managed to play every game of that NBA season. He knows that there are daggers in men's smiles. I used to think that was hardcore- until now.

I'd been working all morning, sitting in the cool air, dogs at my feet and jazz on the stereo. I found that I was getting a might bit thirsty, because that's just how hard I work. I build things and thirst is one of them.

I went into the kitchen and picked up the French Press. The damn coffee was cold. Seriously. Like I don't suffer for my art. That's when I got the idea.

I took the Mickey Mouse blender/smoothie maker out of the cupboard and filled it with ice. I poured in my cold coffee, some milk and about a cup of chocolate chips. If a bunch of kids with braces can make a Java Chip Frappuccino® why can't an unshaven college graduate in his boxers? It's not rocket surgery.

The blender/smoothie maker wouldn't start. I pushed all of the buttons, individually at first and then in an impromptu moment of frustration I pressed them all. It shook. It rattled. It didn't roll so much, but it did start leaking from numerous areas. I turned it off, and ignoring the smell of burnt plastic, I poured myself a glass. It really wasn't that good.

Leading by example as I'm known to claim to do, I decided to move forward and immediately wash the blender/smoothie maker. I filled it with water and turned it in my hands, trying to pinpoint where it was that my attempt at creating a Java Chip Frappuccino® went wrong. I couldn't find anything.

That's when the knife found me. I was reaching down to let the water out of the drain and was immediately attacked by a thrust of such rapid motion that to the naked eye it appeared to remain totally still. It slipped between the pinky and ring finger of my extra hand and it felt like I thought it would.

The sink brought a knife, and I thought it was a gunfight.

I jumped back, holding my hand, and then slowly I looked at where the blade had been. It damn near broke the skin, and I can't help but think that that would have hurt all the more.

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