Rip Roaring Good Times

And the bitch-fest continues ...

Do you ever feel like maybe the cards are just stacked against you?

On Monday night I was cleaning the house (yes, I do this from time to time) and while I was vacuuming I stepped back on my tip-toe and some how ripped off my left big toenail. If I could have recorded the sound I would have made millions selling it to horror film makers. I instantly freak and run into the bathroom and jump into the tub. This thing is bleeding like it is a beating heart, finally I get the thing to stop bleeding and upon further investigation find that the little fucker is still partially attached at the top of the cuticle. So I pulled a Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman and performed a small but elaborate and lengthy, uh hum, 3 hour surgery, of course after I wait for the Perkiset and Bombay to kick in. As the clock struck mid-night VICTORY I had the nail in my hand, I was mentally and physically drained, I wrapped up my toe in 50 Band-Aids and went to bed not knowing that the real horror was waiting for me in the morning. Take a second here and ponder what it would be like to have the sticky part of a Band-Aid stuck to the raw skin that lurks beneath your FUCKING TOE NAIL! ALL NIGHT, you know, so it is nice and embedded in that skin that has never ever seen the light of day. I have got to tell you, this has not been a fun adventure.

I am determined to make it down to Comfest, I may be on crutches and be wearing an orthopedic shoe but I will drink flat Columbus Pale Ale, eat falafel, watch bands, buy a bunch of crap I don't need from vendors, and have a good time damn it! All I am saying is sympathy beer people, sympathy beer.