I get a kick out of you.

Call me Hopalong. This past Sunday I was moving stuff around in my garage and accidentally kicked something hard and metallic. I'm not entirely sure what it was, but I know it was part of the bike lying on its side that I was trying to step over. Based on the amount of pain, the gash on the protruding bone on the inside of my ankle, and my subsequent inability to put much pressure on the foot, I believe it was either the sprocket or pedal. Whichever it was, it hurts like hell.

Of course, being the manly man that I am, I kept working in the garage. A wicked Colorado Storm* was a-brewing and I needed to get shit cleared so I could move the cars into the garage before the hail came a-calling. At one point I carried something inside and my family saw the blood running down my ankle and pooling inside my Keen. They freaked. "It's worse than it looks," I said. At the time, I really thought it was worse than it looked. I have a pretty high tolerance for pain, so I got the garage cleared and the cars under cover.

I finally cleaned the wound and saw it was deeper than I thought, but didn't think it needes stitches. I covered it with Neosporin® and a Band-Aid® and wrapped an ACE® bandage around it, expecting to feel good as new Monday morning.

Couldn't walk Monday morning. Ouch fucking ouch best describes how it felt when I put pressure on the foot. So I got X-Rays. Not broken, quit complaining you big pansy. You should have gotten stitches though, idiot.

Now I'm a hobbler. A cripple. My office is, of course, at the top of a flight of stairs. Shouldn't the ADA apply to me? I'm supposed to play hockey tonight, and if you saw my Thursday 13 last week you know how much I enjoy that shit. Can't walk, can't skate, can't play.

Ouch fucking ouch.

You may now post your sympathies in my comments.

*A Colorado Storm happens when the skies are blue and the weather is beautiful. You look away for a moment, then look back at the sky to discover it's turned completely black. The temperature drops 45 degrees and lawn chairs start blowing across the road. A bolt of lightning strikes the person standing next to you and locusts carry children away. Then bowling ball-sized hail plummets from the sky at the speed of sound, demolishing busses and government buildings. Four minutes later, the skies are blue and it's beautiful again.

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