Frozen Fracture
Jackayy says she thinks she might have broken her coccyx...in honor of that, here's my story....
Here's an embarrassing story: I went to visit one of my best friends during a break from school. I had the intention of coming home with a hangover; instead, I came home with a broken ass. It's not what you think.
I haven't checked, but I think there's some unwritten rule among close friends that says when you go to visit someone, you're required to get ridiculously drunk, be as obnoxious as possible, and eat everything imaginable.
I'm not sure what's more embarrassing: how it happened, or the fact that it did happen. I should've listened to my friend, (who for confidentiality reasons we'll call Ronald Reagan), who even through his alcoholic haze (6-7 Long Island Iced Teas, the verdict is still pending), was smart enough to keep away from a certain blonde psychopath who frequented his housemate's room. The girl had a cute face, but a penchant for violence.
I don't even remember the whole incident but the end result was this large breasted vixen pushed me off balance into the frame of my friend's bed. Always thoughtful, Mr. Reagan gave me frozen peas to ice my derriere.
It took me about 4 days to realize that something was seriously wrong. I was on a date seeing The Matrix , and about half way through the movie I started turning and moving, unable to sit still. The difference this time was that this was due to pain, and not some other behavioral problem my lawyers won't let me talk about. I began to realize that one moment of drunken rage by some crazy blonde girl on ecstasy may have injured more than just my ego. In case you were wondering, I waited until the movie ended to go to the hospital.
As if the whole situation wasn't embarrassing enough…Imagine spending your last semester of college on your side, caught in a veil of painkillers, which isn't all that bad, and having to carry around a donut pillow so you can actually sit during your classes. When my friends and I would go out drinking I used to make girls hide the donut in their purse, and then I would sneak it into a seat. Ironically, it seems there's some old law in Pennsylvania that says every bar has to have wooden benches.
Since the whole "incident," talking with Ronald Reagan, or any of his ex-cabinet members, results in a little joke or comment about how darn funny the whole thing was. I'm laughing, really. (Dirty sons of…)
Thank God it's almost spring. Much like an old person's knees ache when it rains, if the thermometer drops below zero I can't pass wind. Thank God I was blessed with a sense of humor.
Life is always ironic, and this weekend I went skiing, while Reagan went snowboarding. In a twist of poetic justice, I'm writing this from the Emergency Room of a hospital in Vermont, where dear Mr. Reagan is being treated for what I believe is a broken coccyx.
Talk to you later, I have to go home and see if I can locate that pillow.
Here's an embarrassing story: I went to visit one of my best friends during a break from school. I had the intention of coming home with a hangover; instead, I came home with a broken ass. It's not what you think.
I haven't checked, but I think there's some unwritten rule among close friends that says when you go to visit someone, you're required to get ridiculously drunk, be as obnoxious as possible, and eat everything imaginable.
I'm not sure what's more embarrassing: how it happened, or the fact that it did happen. I should've listened to my friend, (who for confidentiality reasons we'll call Ronald Reagan), who even through his alcoholic haze (6-7 Long Island Iced Teas, the verdict is still pending), was smart enough to keep away from a certain blonde psychopath who frequented his housemate's room. The girl had a cute face, but a penchant for violence.
I don't even remember the whole incident but the end result was this large breasted vixen pushed me off balance into the frame of my friend's bed. Always thoughtful, Mr. Reagan gave me frozen peas to ice my derriere.
It took me about 4 days to realize that something was seriously wrong. I was on a date seeing The Matrix , and about half way through the movie I started turning and moving, unable to sit still. The difference this time was that this was due to pain, and not some other behavioral problem my lawyers won't let me talk about. I began to realize that one moment of drunken rage by some crazy blonde girl on ecstasy may have injured more than just my ego. In case you were wondering, I waited until the movie ended to go to the hospital.
As if the whole situation wasn't embarrassing enough…Imagine spending your last semester of college on your side, caught in a veil of painkillers, which isn't all that bad, and having to carry around a donut pillow so you can actually sit during your classes. When my friends and I would go out drinking I used to make girls hide the donut in their purse, and then I would sneak it into a seat. Ironically, it seems there's some old law in Pennsylvania that says every bar has to have wooden benches.
Since the whole "incident," talking with Ronald Reagan, or any of his ex-cabinet members, results in a little joke or comment about how darn funny the whole thing was. I'm laughing, really. (Dirty sons of…)
Thank God it's almost spring. Much like an old person's knees ache when it rains, if the thermometer drops below zero I can't pass wind. Thank God I was blessed with a sense of humor.
Life is always ironic, and this weekend I went skiing, while Reagan went snowboarding. In a twist of poetic justice, I'm writing this from the Emergency Room of a hospital in Vermont, where dear Mr. Reagan is being treated for what I believe is a broken coccyx.
Talk to you later, I have to go home and see if I can locate that pillow.
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