I consolidated the stories about Fred.


...long live, Hill Blocks View. I miss writing. But the thought of one more round of "welcome backs", or obsessing over stats, or thinking of the clever response to a comment, or the obligation to read everyone else's blog... not so much. So I'll try and write. No pressure. If you feel the need to respond, you can email me. I like email. flipaul@yahoo.com

Friday, April 27, 2012


I think the key to making money, is to jump on a bandwagon, and ride that sucker. I have always been interested in extreme sports, sorry X-TREME sports. Why when I was in High School I participated in X-TREME free running, we called it hurdles. I also was into X-TREME bike vert, we called it making sweet jumps with a 2x4's and a cinder block. But now I am old, and all the good X-TREME stuff is dominated by 20 year olds with neck tattoos. I needed to come up with something X-TREME, that I could dominate and thus get sponsored for and thus make money at.

   I was walking back from the unemployment office when inspiration struck. A band of young ruffians were beating the crap out of one of those mimes in the metallic suits. They took his donation bucket and threw him in a dumpster, and as he sailed past, locked in his imaginary box, I realized I had found it. X-TREME Miming.

   I would do the regular mime bit of being locked in a box or going down stairs or walking into the wind, which quite honestly is boring as hell, but I would do it while jumping off of a cliff or at the bottom of the ocean or in space, which would make it much more exciting. I just needed to get some attention for my new "sport." I dressed up in my best mime garb, went up to the top of the tallest building in town, attached a bungee cord to my ankle and stepped up onto the ledge.
   And then I stood there forever. Nobody noticed me, and you can't exactly draw attention to yourself when you're in mime mode. I did the living statue thing for like 8 hours and not one person even glanced my way. I was about to give up, when a window cleaner on a nearby building saw me and started yelling to the crowd below, "Hey there's a suicidal mime up there. He's gone jump." The crowd cheered. Eager for the show. It was time to X-TREME mime.

   I used my best pulling on a rope mime to step off into nothingness. There was a roar of applause. I walked into the wind, down the stairs while trying to get out of a box. It was very X-TREME. The assembled onlookers continued to cheer. I launched into the living statue part of my routine, I chose Rodin's The Thinker. I hurtled towards the ground with alarming speed, the crowd leaned forward anxious for the conclusion of my performance.
   And then the bungee cord caught. The crowd gasped, shocked that I had stopped falling. Many seemed openly angry that I wasn't going to splat on the sidewalk. I began to pantomime putting on a pair of pants when I discovered why people don't generally bungee off buildings. The recoil from the bungee cord slammed me into the building with enough force that I performed the famous hanging limply upside down pantomime, which was convenient because I was knocked unconscious.

    I awoke a week later in traction. My days as an X-TREME athlete are sadly over.