Urban Legend.
I once heard what was possibly an urban legend, about a lady who went to an elegant party, and tripped on her high heels on the way in. She didn't even make it past the doorframe, before being shipped off to hospital.
Now imagine you haven't been epically blasted, off your face SIDEWAYS in several months.
Now imagine that you haven't been to a party since November.
Now imagine that this is because you work quite unsociable hours, and a lot of them, and opportunities to do the above are rare.
Now imagine that you get an opportunity to not only go to a party, but also get more mashed than creamed potatoes. And when you turn up at said party in the woods, you fall down the side of a bomb crater, don't actually make it into the party itself, and get shipped off to hospital.
My foot is turning an interesting shade of purple, though.
Now imagine you haven't been epically blasted, off your face SIDEWAYS in several months.
Now imagine that you haven't been to a party since November.
Now imagine that this is because you work quite unsociable hours, and a lot of them, and opportunities to do the above are rare.
Now imagine that you get an opportunity to not only go to a party, but also get more mashed than creamed potatoes. And when you turn up at said party in the woods, you fall down the side of a bomb crater, don't actually make it into the party itself, and get shipped off to hospital.
My foot is turning an interesting shade of purple, though.