I Am The World's Biggest Ignoramus - But The Pictures Are Sweet!

Two years ago, almost to the day, I was a youth leader for our church. I was responsible for teaching a lesson every other Sunday to the 14 and 15-year-old girls, and helping them plan and execute their mid-week activities. One particular week in August they had decided to go ice blocking. Now, for anyone who does not know what that is, I shall explain. You sit on a block of ice and slide down a grassy hill. That's about it. I had never been ice blocking before, so I was anxious to give it a try. I picked up a van full of girls, bought 6 blocks of ice at a gas station and we made our way to a park that featured a phenomenally steep hill.

It was a lovely summer evening, and I enjoyed watching the girls act like silly children while they whooshed down the hill on their giant cubes of ice. When everyone had had a few turns, I decided to take a ride myself. So I placed my towel atop the ice, sat my giant rear end on the block and scooted off. It was similar to one of those carousels outside shopping centers that you put your quarter in and slowly revolve in a circle for a lousy minute or so. The experience wasn't nearly as exhilarating as it looked, and I was left feeling a little jipped.

I carried the block of ice back up the hill, and as I crested the top, I saw It. The long, metal slide. And of course, I thought, "Oh, man! It would be so cool for someone to go down that on their block of ice." (I know - only a fool would do such a thing, but wait for it...)

Now this was no sissy kid slide. It was about 25 feet long from top to bottom and sloped with approximately a 35 degree angle. In the world of slides, it was steep and it went forever. (It has since been removed from the park, most likely due to it's insanely unsafe nature.) So really, what better way to take a lazy ride down a hill on an ice block and turn it into a thrilling show of ultimate awesomeness?? That's what I thought, anyway. So I took one of those darn blocks and put it at the top of the slide and sat on it. And then I waited to gather my nerve. All of the girls were standing at the top of the slide with me, as it began at the top of our grassy hill. One of them said, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

You'd think that a young, invincible girl questioning the wisdom of what I was about to do would make me think twice, but no. I was already sitting there, shorts getting a little wet from the melting ice, and if I chickened out then the girls might think me to be a wimp, and I was trying to be the cool leader - so that just wouldn't do.

I gave the block of ice a little forward thrust, and let go of the side rails.

And then two things happened simultaneously. I think I had time to mutter, "Oh shit!" and then I was launched off the bottom of the slide, flying through the air.

The actual descent from the slide happened so quickly that there would have been some kind of land speed record set, if we happened to have been timing it. Conversely, the part where I was flying through the air took so long that I had time to think, "What have I done?? This is going to hurt!" And then I landed, with excruciating pain, and slid across the sand for about 10 feet.

Immediately, I did what I could to avoid further humiliation. I sat up, pretended that my butt didn't feel like it had just been rear-ended by a MAC truck, and smiled. Yeah, I'm an idiot.

All six of the girls came running to my aid, inquiring as to my condition. I assured them that I was fine, and stood up to brush myself off. My feigned nonchalance seemed to have worked, until one of the girls said, "You're bleeding!"

Crap. Sure enough, that slight stinging I felt in my calf was the result of a gargantuan sand rash. I told her I was fine, that it didn't even hurt. (Which, when compared to the agonizing pain in my hiney, was completely true.)

We finished up the evening with a few more runs down the hill; sticking to the grass, of course. All the while I tried not to show how incapacitated I was, and the only thing I could think about was whether all these girls would rush home and tell their parents what a moron I was. That's exactly what I would have done, had I been in their shoes. As the sun began to set, we piled back into my car and headed home. I had to drop everyone off at their houses, and so I drove very quickly and tried to appear to be sitting on both sides of my butt, when in fact, I was only letting my left side come in contact with the seat.

Finally, everyone was safely in their homes, and I could head for mine. Unfortunately, we were living in an apartment at the time that was at the top of three flights of stairs. I managed the torturous climb and entered my front door. Andrew was sitting there on the couch and I just let it all out. I hobbled over to him and cried and told him how stupid I felt and how much my backside was killing me. He laughed. A lot. Then, I pulled my shorts down to have a look.

Here's what we found:


(This is a picture of a picture because my scanner won't work, but notice the nice lump on my upper thigh, just above my pant line? That's where my sorry butt landed, right on the edge of the ice block that nearly killed me. About 3 months ago, I finally got feeling back in that part of my leg. And yes, I just posted a picture of my arse on the internet.)

More of Andrew's laughing followed this discovery, but it was several days before I could see the humor in it. After all, I had to go to church 3 days later and pretend that everything was cool, and that I didn't have obscene scabs clear down my leg from sliding so far on the sand.



That made shaving quite impossible.

I do not recommend acting in such a reckless and idiotic manner, but if ever you do, be sure to take pictures, because once the pain and numbness and embarrassment fade, you might just be pretty darn proud of the size bruise you can give yourself.


I apologize for having failed to forewarn you that you would be looking at my big ol' white butt cheek. I just think it's a breathtaking picture!

Now, folks, the moral of the story. Do not try to impress 14-year-olds with any sort of physical skill or daring. It's much less humiliating to just bring awesome snacks. Also, ice blocking is no fun.