Don't leave a voicemail, seriously.

I used to sometimes wonder which of my enemies had the voodoo doll of me and how the FUCK they got a lock of my hair, but I haven't thought about that in a while.

Until today.

I won't bitch about mowing the yard (again), but let's just say that it's become something of a character building exercise in my mind (I take the time to banish distractions like wikipedia to work on my RL writing). So I accept the whole bullshit job as something good for me in the long run.

So today I broke a toe stubbing it on the rock border on a flower bed. Yes, I work in the yard barefoot. I am a redneck, do not ever doubt this just because I talk good and don't drive a pick up (now). The real sucky part of this whole event was that I'd only mowed half the yard, so as I was standing there making the bad O face of shock and pain I was like "goddamn it!" knowing I was just gonna have to suck it up. Ok, I sucked it up.

This lead to a bit of a heat stroke, perhaps.

I decided to take a bath to soak the chlorophyll off my feet. As I stepped into the tub I immediately realized that one of my myriad bath products had dastardly upended itself to leave a slick streak of death on the enamel. Have you ever actually had the experience of thinking "oh, this might be it" on the way down during a fall? I hit my head pretty hard and came away with several cuts that I then streaked all the way across the house with my dog trailing me getting all bloody.

I think the worst part of this was cleaning up all the blood. It's one thing to hurt yourself, it's another entirely having to deal with the indignity of scrubbing your blood up off the ground (and off the dog, note to self: get a black dog).

One would think I would have learned the lesson on broken glass and slick surfaces. One would be dead wrong. On the plus side: I will DEFINITELY go out on a Darwin Award.

And in conclusion: NEMESIS WHO HAS YET AGAIN ATTEMPTED TO SLAY ME, I LIVE TO PISS YOU OFF ANOTHER DAY WITH MISSPELLINGS AND MALAPROPS.