Secrets stolen from deep inside...
Find one hundred ways...

When the shit hits the fan...

Everyone has those stories from throughout their lives in which they did something that seemed like a good idea at the time, but, in the long run, proved itself to not have been the wiser path to tread. My life is full of them...

  • Swapping electrical switches without, first, killing the circuit breaker.
  • Consuming food or drink well past its posted "freshness" date.
  • Chiseling glue off the back of a junior high shop project with one hand holding the board opposite the chisel-bearing hand (it was pretty cool seeing the sinewy muscle that operates my thumb, though).
  • Reflushing a toilet that is already draining slowly.
  • Jamming a freshly sharpened pencil into my grade-school desk, eraser first.

We've all done them. The above-listed examples were all committed by yours truly at some point in time in my life. And, in some instances, multiple times. For some of these, I still have the scars to prove it.

Miscceilingfan However, I have one, akin to a recent story told by Magazine Man, that happened to a guy I once worked for that is no less memorable.

As a Hall Director in grad school, I reported to the Assistant Area Coordinator whom I shall henceforth refer to as "Rev" (he was, in addition to his regular Residence Life duties, an ordained Southern Baptist minister). Rev was a great guy: easy to work with, supportive of "the troops," appreciative of life in general, etc.

You could tell him anything and we often did. Especially when we had problems with certain residents because we knew he'd help us out... he always had our back.

Over the course of one particular year, we were all having run-ins with a specific resident. Put simply, she was a major thorn in our collective side. I won't go into specifics other than to say we were desperate for her to leave the hall. Rev even told A (my fellow Hall Director; there were three of us in this complex) and me that if this resident agreed to move out for the upcoming academic year, he would get on top of his desk and dance a jig.

This I had to see.

I veered away from my regularly intolerant attitude towards Resident X and took a more proactive approach... I sought ways to convince her that her life would be better if she found housing outside our dorm complex. I even searched for apartment listings for her. I was such an angel, despite the obvious horns supporting my halo.

A month before the end of the school year, Resident X entered my office and announced she would not be returning to our hall the next year. I gave her the canned "Oh, we'll miss you" all the while clenching my sphincter to deny the winged monkeys their inevitable escape.

When she left, I found A and told her the good news and, together, we marched down to Rev's office to tell him. We were both looking forward to our mini-Riverdance.

Rev didn't miss a beat. With no prompting or reminding whatsoever, he hopped atop his desk and commenced his spectacle.

It was then I noticed just how close his spinning ceiling fan was to his desk and, at this moment, his head.

My warning was not nearly quick enough as Rev was thwacked in the head by the rotating fan blade just as I began to speak. He fell off his desk to the floor in a daze. A and I helped him to his feet. He then reached up and dabbed unsteadily at his freshly bloodied forehead.

And what do you think happened next?

He resumed his jig.

You cannot say he's not dedicated to his art.


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I have stood under a fan knowing it was there and spinning very fast. I would then lose my mind and stretch my arms into the air and get wacked on the hand or wrist. That hurts a little. Obviously, it doesn't hurt as much as getting hit on the head and falling to the ground off a desk. I would think most of us has had some kind of killer fan incident.

I was in high school, I think it was freshman year. I can't quit remember. What I do remember is ditching school. Leaving the house and pretending to go to the bus stop. I then went to the back yard and entered the basement storm window. I had opened it prior to leaving the house. While in the basement I heard my mother leave the house and figured that my dad would be leaving for work any minute. NOT! He decided to do some laundry. The machines where down in the basement. So, as the basement door opened I quickly dove under the weight lifting bench which had a blanket over the long seat. I was crouched in a ball under the seat and blanket for about 30 to 40 minutes. I didn't get caught but, my back and knees friggin hurt when I was able to get out from under that thing. What a price to pay for ditching one day of school. That was probably one of the few things I never got caught doing.

ms. sizzle

ha ha ha! GREAT STORY! the rev sounds like a fine fellow. :)

good work on ridding your dorm coplex of the thorn.

oh and "sinewy muscles"? ewwwww.





I think I would like Rev ;)

I could add trying to stab holes into the top of a mayo jar with a very sharp knife (which only poked a hole through the skin btwn my thumb and index finger) in order to collect lightening bugs.


heehee. sounds like quite the guy :)


And the band played on...


I had a simliar fan experience. I was sleeping on the ground at a friend's when I suddenly woke up to all of my friends screaming. Apparently the ceiling fan had fallen right onto my head and given me a nasty concussion. Who has a fan fall on their head I ask you? Elaine.

Karl in the Dark

Now *there's* a man with some follow-through. That had to make your week, seeing the two-part jig with a fan intermission.


MIM, pulling a Jim Bakker in your parents' basement, eh?

Sizzle, whoops, forgot to say "rippling sinewy muscle." Drat it.

Jacquie, that was the exact spot where my chisel wound up.

Suze, he was pretty dang cool.

Sandra, it would've been much better with musical accompaniment.

Elaine, fallen on you? Yikes! No thanks.

Karl, ah, the Pun King strikes again!


Maybe he planned it that way to make himself look EVEN better?

Tracy Lynn

Man, EVERYONE needs more friends like that. Dude.


Must stop reading your log at silly time in the morning... waking house mates up by falling off chair laughing is becoming quite the norm now...


Thanks for the chuckle! I think everyone took a big dose of stupid this week.



I took a spin on a too-small tricycle while holding a glass slide filched from my brother's chemistry set in my hand. Knees hit handlebars, trike toppled, slide broke and cut through flesh between thumb and index finger. Trip to ER ensued, followed by grounding. I still have the scar.

Alas, there were no jigs involved.


Jacynth, there is that possibility.

Tracy, it was certainly entertaining. Makes the job more fun when you can laugh.

Bec, at least you weren't at work.

Nat, I've been taking doses of stupid for years now.

SJ, my friend had a bicycle accident very similar to that one. He was singing along to "Freebird" on his walkman on his bike and not paying attention to the fact that a very large pothole was in front of him. His tire got locked in the pothole and he flipped over the handlebars and pulled the bike over him as he went. As he lay there on the ground with the bike on top of him, he continued singing "Freebird" without missing a note.

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