Littl' Ol' Lady v Gigantic Jason

Ok so it's time to do things. Mind you, many things have been done alreay. So many, that you end up wondering how many more things you should try to do until something original pops up. With my right arm I say "nahh...." it's all been done, and then my silly left arm comes into the fray from behind some mystical cloud and declares that every breath you take is a step toward a new token of originality. Albeit that token wouldn't get you extra minutes down at the pool. But you might be able to slot it into one of those shopping trolleys and take it with you on an extravaganza that you can most surely declare will be original, as that path has probably not been taken before... unless you go down the path of no return in which case STOP RIGHT THERE... cus that has been done before, its just that nobody lived to tell the tale. A tale of many sides, left arm, right and the one tucked in between my legs when I was attempting to gain extra dexterity and awsome aerodynamics when running down the road chased by a pack of imaginary wild and vicious dogs. I sware that happened to me today. Actually, that didn't happen fully, but, it was the sensation I gathered as for the first time ever I was startled by Brendon Benson blaring in my headphones as I walked through the streets. I was genuinly startled and inside of myself I jumped up to the hight of a 12 story building. Luckily I didn't seem to need to come back down. I also kicked something today. It was one of those stumps that comes out of the road when roadworks are incomplete. A little old lady was walking towards me on the pavement up ahead and I don't know whether it was thru some curtious action or whether I was just too darn scared of her (lets face it, she could have been a black belt in her time... never mess with old ladies), but, i decided to walk a little on the road and BLAM! Stumped my toe. The sweat was dripping down my face like a waterful in an Australian outback. It accompanied an embarassingy red face which must have contrasted beautifully with... well, everything. I couldn't ever have passed a test of the camelianeic type with one plastered all over me. A couple of girls were giggling coming towards me. Could it have been because of the awsome hysterical sight of me loosing at chicken with an old lady and paying the price or were they just sharing a personal joke about forlorn creatures, aided in their speed by new aerodynamic tales. One can but only speculate. Still. I was hurt, but I walked with my head held high. About as high as it goes which is 1m50odd. Maybe if I keep stumping toes, the Gods of Height will grant more than I've been blessed with. After all, The Gods of Height do use stumped toes as a bartering coin, do they not?