Allllllllll righty then gang...time for two truths and a lie! I'm going to give you a prompt followed by a brief description of what happened. Two of them are 100% completely true (scout's honor) and one is complete bullsharky. Can YOU guess which one is the lie?! Comment here, e-mail me your choice, text me, call me at work, carrier pigeon or slide into my DM's.
The power is YOURS!!!! ![]()
I have/had two different birth certificates.
Medical technology has come a long way since 1986, and along with it medical record keeping and patient record organization. For those of you who don't know... I am Victor Salvatore Dellisola IV. Note the roman numeral 'IV'. Yes, I am the 4th in a line of Victors traced back to the motherland of pizza, pasta and terrible fashion. Apparently this was a bit too much to handle for the employees of a Salt Lake City based hospital (name withheld to protect the innocent). On November 11, 1986 I, Victor S. Dellisola III was brought into this world. Victor S. Dellisola III was ready to shine his light on the world! Wait hold up... What?!? People can't be born TWICE (I mean physically, not 're-born' in the meta-physical sense). I was supposed to be number 4 not number 3! Number 3 already happened! Needless to say my dad was VERY confused. Best part is it made it through the various doctor/record-keeper signatures not realizing my dad had been born again while still very much alive. Almost made it 24 hours before my Mom was like "Uhhhhh, I definitely don't have two husbands one of whom is a day old." The hospital fixed it and I'm not sure the original exists now, but I'm still confused to this day. Was I supposed to be my Dad? Was he supposed to be me? If I have a son should I skip V and go straight to VI just to screw with everyone?
I helped the lead singer of Godsmack finish a poop.
So there I am dropping the Browns off at the Super Bowl in the local hockey rink. Good old Ristuccia Arena, (former) home of your Boston Bruins. Now I didn't play hockey so I must have been there to watch a friend play. It was either junior or senior year of high school. I'm sitting there taking care of business when someone walks in and starts pooping next to me. I finish up. Wipe. Flush. Wipe again because I had nachos and cheez-whiz. Flush again. Before I leave the mystery man in the stall next to me asks something to the effect of... "Hey dude, can I ask you a favor. Got any paper in the stall over there? Embarrassing but I'm clean out, sorry dude." "No problem man!" I said as I obtained his two-ply relief. "Thanks kid." said the mystery voice. I washed up and left the bathroom, but hung out around so I could catch a glimpse of the victim. Low and behold out walks Sully Erna, lead singer of Godsmack. It was unmistakably him. He might actually be an inch or two shorter than me, which is impressive. And the little star tattoo under his eye. Yep. Helped Sully take a dump. "I'm not the one who's so far away, when I feel the paper enter my A-e-a-e" -Godsmack-PooDoo
I got lost at a circus and rescued by a clown.
Ahh the local circus... a hellish landscape of sugar, tents, and tortured animals. My parents decided to take my brother and I to the Big Apple Circus for a family fun day. I have no idea how old I was but I was young... very young. Like formative year young when any amount of time alone with a clown was enough to scar you for life. We moved here in the early 90s after Dan Dell was born, so I'm guessing 5 or 6. So there I was at the show, inside the big ass tent. From what my parents tell me I took it upon myself to wander off in search of popcorn or quite possibly the nearest exit. Long story short I got mega lost. My mom and dad were freaking out. But it's totally OK because a circus clown saw a young crying child (me) and decided to take it upon himself to help me find my parents. HOORAY! I try not to use the F-word when blogging but I'm going to make an exception here... FUCK THAT SHIT. I remember flashes of this clown bringing be around from person to person trying to find my parents. And that face... that FACE! I'll never forget it. One of those sad hobo-ish clowns. nightmare fuel. A full trail of tears later I was reunited with my parents. But not after being dragged around the depths of circus HELL hand in hand with Bozo the Bum clown. ![]()
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