Two stops after I got on, these two unbelievable short people got on, and the way they were looking at me, I could tell. They wanted to bite my ankles!
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
They kept me in short pants as long as they could, until they were shaving the hair on my legs because it was beginning to photograph.
I was short with my fastball and breaking ball.
They made a shrewd guess that I could give them some useful information, and they were the first to meet me. Some one said they came to arrest me, and - well, let it go at that.
I'm not a short person; I'm 5'10 and I was wearing heels, and I felt like a tiny little creature next to Shaquille O'Neal.
They shaved a little piece of bone off my small toe. You see, you balance yourself a certain way and this toe had grown under the other ones. So he cut it loose, where I could balance myself and it makes me walk straight.
When I was hitch-hiking, people had to follow me, 'cause I didn't stay long.
They, that unnamed 'they,' they've knocked me down but I got up. I always get up-and I swear when I went down quite often I took the fall; nothing moves a mountain but itself. They, I've long ago named them me.
People made fun of my skinny legs.
People were actually approaching me on the street and thinking that I was an athlete. They couldn't quite place it, but a runner, or swimmer or something.
They asked me why I was wearing heels, and I said, I'm trying to hide my ass. They gave me a prosthetic behind.