I often eat in my living room using a "Lady Lovelilocks" metal TV tray.
I have hit the following things with a car, in chronological order: a parked minivan, a nine-year-old boy, a squirrel, a deer, a turtle, another squirrel. The squirrels and turtle died; the deer totaled the car; the nine-year-old is fine, and much older now.
I wrote two horrible novel-length stories in high school, which you will never read.
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Hitting turtles is terrible (though, I think I can assume, nothing to hitting a 9-year-old).
I've hit the following things with my car (in whatever order I remember): a ditch, my sister's friend's parked trans-am, a volvo, a turtle, another turtle, a mailbox, a parked toyota, a car on the highway (I remember the adrenaline, but not the make of the car), a slick of highway ice that spun my car around 360 degrees (no one was hurt, oddly). And many many many curbs. Many.
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