If Chins Could Kill: Confessions of a B Movie Actor Read Online Free PDF

remember any further events of the day.
    Women had that effect on me.
    The same applied to Joanna Spain. During third-grade Field Day, I admired how fast she could run. I was not "excited" in the typical sense -- I didn't know enough about sexuality. Rather, I was just impressed in a different way than how, say, Mike Ditz won the Hop, Skip and Jump contest. I didn't win anything, but it didn't matter -- I got to watch Joanna run.
    I don't know what it is about the primal need for boys to impress girls, but every time I tried it, something disastrous happened.

    Trying to impress the Brady twins, in particular, was a challenge. They weren't identical, but each had an irresistible quality. Karen, a redhead, was quiet, polite and a 9+ by any standard. Her blonde sister, Ann, was outgoing and flirtatious, but she was pushing a 10, so she was also harder prey. The only consolation was that Ann tortured my brother Don exponentially. To this day (are you reading Don?) the mere mention of her name sends this Desert Storm veteran into a foxhole, trembling in fear.
    To me, it really didn't matter which one I dazzled first.
    The Brady yard had several huge weeping willow trees. With long, droopy branches, they were a joy to climb. My plan, while Karen watched from below, was to leap from one branch to another, not unlike that guy in a loincloth. I may have even yodeled as I reached out for the targeted branch, but it was all over before it began. The branch I grabbed had been dead for years and broke off clean. The momentum swung my legs in front of me and I ended up in a muddy bog, flat on my back -- branch still in hand. The air had been completely knocked from my lungs and all I could do was lay there and gasp.
    "Oh, my God, Bruce -- are you all right?" Karen asked, with genuine concern.
    "Oh yeah, =cough= it was all =cough= part of my =cough= plan..."
    Overwhelmed with humility, I jumped on my Huffy bike, and sped away as fast as I could.
    One fall day, my mother brought my brothers and me to visit her friend. It seemed only natural that her three boys would enjoy interacting with the woman's three daughters.
    Things started innocently enough -- the kids all huddled in their basement while the moms drank tea and chatted in the kitchen. Music was playing, so we all proceeded to dance, or whatever it was young kids do when they heard music. I wound up running in circles around one of the cute daughters. Soon, we were heading in opposite directions and a collision seemed preordained. Seconds later, we bashed heads and dropped to the floor. The girl screamed and ran off to tell her mom while I hid behind the couch. Their mother didn't seem overly concerned, but the other, older daughters had blood in their eyes.
    Mike, Don and I were chased out to the front yard. Mike had longer limbs, so he hauled ass down the street and climbed a tree. Don and I were left with no choice other than to lock ourselves inside Mom's '57 Chevy.

    After catching our breath, we discovered a bag of Spanish peanuts in the glove compartment and proceeded to gorge ourselves. The girls, hungry from chasing us, begged for a few peanuts, so Don and I cracked the windows enough to pour some out. Instead of swallowing them, the girls chewed them into a paste and smeared the putrid mess across every window. Within seconds, my gag reflex kicked in.
    "Don... Don -- I'm gonna barf..."
    "Oh, no you're not." he warned. "You barf and I'll pound you."
    Faced with an unpleasant choice, I clamped a hand over my mouth and held the vomit in check. I don't know how long I stayed like that, but the girls eventually went away and I was able to retch in the street.
    I have never eaten Spanish peanuts since.
    For some perverted reason, the fad of making yourself faint caught on at my elementary school. To pull it off, you'd inhale deeply several times, then hold your breath as someone gave you a bear hug from behind -- within seconds, you'd be out cold. This was about the dumbest thing