When I was 6 my brother accidently smacked our new TV with a baseball bat leaving a big spidery crack in the screen. Soon after, when I was watching Mr. Rogers, I was about two feet away from the screen. My mom told me to scoot back, afraid of evil rays escaping and killing me. I protested with solid conviction that my beloved Mr. Rogers would never hurt me. I loved Mr. Rogers.
We watched that cracked TV for the next 11 years.
Last edited by warch; 02-27-2003 at 07:56 PM.
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