Yes, my left foot is indeed broken. I'm off this afternoon to the foot and ankle doc to get my very own tastefully stylish "Denver Boot"
Yeah. That's what I feel like about right now.HOWEVER... I need a good story as to how this came about. Get creative in the comments, folks. And make alcohol only minimally a part of whatever great story you come up with. Surely you know me well enough by now to know that any could (and probably did) happen when it comes to moi. (And I've already told the boss it wasn't anything as exciting as landing wrong when I jumped down off the bar I was dancing on.)
_____
Update: Just to make this interesting, I'll take the winner of this here contest out drinking for a night. Even if that means I have to fly somewhere and book a hotel for myself. After all, I'm still overdue for a vacation.
I have the best and funniest readers on the planet. Knock yourselves out, will you?
6 comments:
OMG - I will have to think... damn. I just finished a second glass of wine and I'd swear I saw you jumping from one of the gondolas on the Ferris Wheel at Navy Pier... but I could be wrong about that. LOL.
huh? what'd I miss? How'd you do dat?
Fell off the stage at the Tax Day Tea Party?
I always fall down those dangerous stairs at the Red Head - maybe you too? Of course I'm a klutz!
Barrie
Sorry about your wheels! Hope that will not effect any trips to the Lone Star State for certain activities that are in the works.
What happened did you kick that doosh in his teeth?
Too much, the Magic Bus
Too much, the Magic Bus
- The Who
The Magic Bus was in trouble. On its way over the Gobi Desert, it began to sputter and lose altitude.
Leslie looked at the Magic indicator. It was firmly stuck on "E." That last landing must've damaged the tank, unbeknownst to he or El Capitan, who more than filled the copilot's chair next to her.
They managed to bring the Bus in for a safe, if somewhat rough, landing. But it would never fly again. The Mojo-Converter was damaged beyond any reasonable hope of repair.
"Crap," Leslie spat as she debarked. In frustration, she gave the bus a mighty kick. It did little to the bus, but it cracked her metatarsal in two places.
"Crap," Leslie said again, quite a bit louder. "Now, where am I gonna get a Denver boot in the frickin' Gobi Desert?"
That did it. You win, Elisson! Now name the date (other than during BlogHer in August or any time in September when my grandbaby is due) and I'll buy the plane ticket.
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