Lunchtime Poll

Lunchtime Poll 2/25/11

So one day I was sitting around, being bored, and I started to wonder about “The Dukes of Hazzard.”  Those guys got tied up all the time and managed to wiggle a little and slip out of their bonds.  So, naturally, that got me wondering “How hard is it to escape if your feet are tied together?”  As it turns out, it’s not that easy.  Especially if you used string instead of thick rope – that stuff hurts when it cuts into your ankles.  Another interesting fact is that knots in string get too tight to untie after you have spent a half-hour struggling against them.  If you do decide to try tying your feet together with string (although I don’t recommend that you do) keep a pair of scissors handy, otherwise you will have to hop to the kitchen, alternately praying for balance and thanking the lord that the scissors are not on a different floor.  The icing on this anecdotal cake is that, when I did this, I was seventeen years old and hadn’t seen an episode of “The Dukes of Hazzard” in about ten years.

So, now that I’ve shown you mine, you show me yours.  What is your best “it seemed like a good idea at the time” story?

By [E]SaraB

Glass artisan by day, blogger by night (and sometimes vice versa). SaraB has three kids, three pets, one husband and a bizarre sense of humor. Her glass pendants can be found at if you're interested in checking it out.

7 replies on “Lunchtime Poll 2/25/11”

Oh you guys all have me laughing so hard over these. Glad I’m not the only one with spectacular hair disasters. When I was 14 or 15, I read in a magazine that you could put temporary streaks in your hair with Kool-Aid. So I got some packets of grape and fruit punch and went to work. Temporary my ass. Not only did I have patches of purple and orangey-red, there were also some spots where the colors mixed together, producing a disgusting brown-gray hue. It stayed this way for at least 3 weeks. My hair is very light blonde. No matter what I did, the color wouldn’t wash out. The worst part? My head smelled like fruit punch, which I HATE. To this day, the smell of punch nauseates me and makes me feel like an insecure, awkward teenager.


7 year old LUCY looks out of vacation condo window, 5 flights up.


What a cool, wide ledge! I’m going to climb out
there and check it out! Come on 4 year old brother,
mom and dad went to get something out of the car.
Let’s go!

PARENTS look up to see children on ledge. Lose their minds.


When I was in 8th grade and fairly tiny, some friends and I decided to see if I could fit in an open guitar case (goodness knows they wouldn’t be able to close it) and hide entirely behind the opened lid.

We got everything but my foot, so I did what any reckless 8th-grader would do. I forced it.

I succeeded. I also dislocated my foot in the process, which I shoved back into place myself. I had problems with that foot for years. Nowadays, it only bugs me if I’ve been abusing it, at which point it practically curls into a ball (the muscles on the bottom of the foot contract and need to be massaged into submission when it happens).

Today, BTW, I’m wearing 3.5″ heels for an interview. I haven’t abused my foot lately, but I wear these shoes knowing that when I take them off, there’s a chance my foot is going to rebel.

I can’t think of one relating to myself – selective memory is a beautiful thing. But I can think of a situation that relates to my mother. :)

She had bought a big, beautiful antique mirror with attached polished silver hooks and shelf unit that was also incredibly heavy. To hang it in her bathroom she had to use a stud finder (her christmas present from the year before, yes this is my mother). The mirror was to hang on the wall above her toilet – a really good spot for it. Well, the stud finder located a couple spots for her to start drilling screws to hang this beast. She got the first screw in and when she went to set the second screw a GIANT BURST OF WATER shot her in the chest. She yells, completely confused and my dad and I run into the room thinking she’s hurt herself with the battery powered screwdriver. Nope. The stud finder had found not only a beam but also a pipe that leads to the toilet. Dad had to run outside and turn off the water before the room flooded. Water was already pooling on the floor within seconds. Mom looked like a wet rat. It was hilarious. And this was way before ROFLMAO was a thing.

And that is also the story of how Mom finally convinced Dad to remodel the bathroom. The end. :)

When I was 14 I decided I wanted to dye my hair blonde but my mom wouldn’t let me. So one day after school my friend and I went to CVS and bought a box of blonde hair dye and dyed my hair in her bathroom. My mom was pissed and my hair was bright orange, but it was enough to convince her to let me go to a professional to fix it. Even though I was blonde for all of high school, it was a terrible look for me. I never should have went blonde at all! But I will never regret dying it bright pink in college.

When I was about 10 or 11, my best friend was going to be at her mom’s house that Halloween, so we wouldn’t be able to trick-or-treat together. She suggested that we go trick-or-treating that day (the 29th) instead. We made it through most of the neighborhood before someone called my parents. We both ended up grounded. I still got to go trick-or-treating the next night, but I wasn’t allowed to go to the houses we already hit up. My sister still gives me crap about it.

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