There I was, sitting at my computer, numbing my tired, tired brain with endless games of solitaire, when my right leg abruptly leapt up and banged itself against my push-in-pull-out-able keyboard holder thingy (which isn't very useful, considering I have a laptop, but gosh darn it if there isn't a keyboard sitting there, attached to nothing, and looking as if it could've been made in the Stone Age, which is really quite an achievement when you consider how primitive the rest of their technology was at the time). The drawer, as I will incorrectly call the holder thing, banged in with great force, resulting in a loud BANG. This resulted in me being shocked. Why had that happened?
Then I remembered that I had been banging my fist into my right thigh for quite some time, and on the last go-around, I had banged a little too far south, setting off what I shall call "a reflexive knee muscle action." I laughed at myself, then I really laughed at myself, and then I banged my fist into my thigh again, testing out whether reflexes actually exist. They do, and they sure are funny. I kept doing this for a full 5 minutes, alternating legs, moving from thigh to direct-knee contact, trying out different positions, and laughing so hard I had to lay my head down on the desk and gasp for air at one point. Then it stopped working. My reflexive knee muscle action wasn't happening. I had made my body immune to reflexes! Whooo! I'm just like Gene Wilder in the beginning of Young Frankenstein, where he blocks Old Guy's reflexes with a near-deadly clamp around his neck, except without the killer clamp. That sounds cool, though, I think I might go get one...
To sum up, I get greatly amused by trivialities that a 4 year old would get bored of after a few seconds and know Mel Brooks' movies a little too well. Oh, and yeah, I conquered my body. HIGH FIVE!
I Am Still Alive. Basically.
4 days ago