i've been sustaining some battle-damage.
surprisingly,
all after i managed to successfully drill, cut, grind, and razor-blade a ton
of costume pieces, scissors and hot knives and eXacto blades,
and all sorts of weird angles and impatient plays for time saving super-eliteness,
and didn't get so much as a scrape.
ha.
i gouged a gash into the palm of my left hand on a recently upended
and possibly haunted housebroken brad from the carpet.
yep.
a carpet tack tried to slit my wrist, and missed by just about an inch.
it looks bad, and feels worse,
but that's not the half of it.
(actually, it's 1/3)
last night, while i was creating a crucial sandwich week dinner,
i had laundry to do, and dogs to feed, and groceries to put away,
and a intrinsic need to do all of that simultaneously-
i s'pose i don't have four peoples' worth of attention to pay-
it turns out, i'm underfunded in that department.
so, with my mind on my warm dryer-fresh undies,
while i was preppin' sweet onions for sauteing,
i also had too many fingers in all the wrong places,
and as a result of that inattentiveness,
i might've removed a healthy portion of my left thumb.
that looks as bad as the palm, but bled way more,
and in general practical applications, it is doubly inconvenient,
since manual dexterity is sort of my thing, y'know?
damn.
i finished dinner with wraps on wraps of gauze and tape an' that,
and fumbled my thumb through spicy jalapeno poison juice,
which burned like laserfire from the future.
the food turned out expert,
and the situation sorted itself out in the end...
but,
this morning started out even worse.
yup.
check the teleport:
y'know what that is on his face?
it's blood.
y'know whose blood?
yup.
mine.
the first round goes to the canine,
but i assure you, there will be a rematch.
so,
what happened?
i'll tell you what happened-
he sliced my stooooopid flippy-flappy stretched-out lobe-hole,
...lengthwise.
gross.
and so now there's a filthy wound,
created with lightning-striking viper-like blitzkrieg accuracy,
by his savage shark teeth, first thing this morning.
he had to hulk out a spicy sh!t, it seems,
and was unprepared to wait for any semblance of a leisurely awakening.
he's getting a little suckier over here,
in his second week at the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress.
i presume he's just like everyone else i know-
becoming inured and immune to my efforts to improve him;
and train him up into something exxxtra-special;
and generally elevate him to a level eleven excellence rating.
turns out,
NObody likes that.
anyway,
this most recent injury looks the worst of all,
and what's more,
it's right next to my flippin' face!
like i needed more left-hand-sided trauma.
i guess the rules is rules, however;
too much is the right amount,
and staying ugly is a sure fire way to stay dope.
on the plus side,
i'm probably 300% more dope than i was, thanks to him,
and besides the blood, and the throbbing aches,
more minor injuries to moan about will only make me better at enduring
the small glass-house hurled slingstones,
and decidedly uncupidlike arrows of the people i'm surrounded by.
hahaha.
haters gonna hate,
the sharkbullet bull terror is gonna hurt,
and in between,
i'm gonna eat a lot of bread with things between it.
word up.
it's all really happening,
and i'm bleeding for all of it;
never quiet, never soft.....
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