Quarter of an inch and I'd need a parrot
So I was getting ready for work this morning and jabbed my thumb into my eyeball.
Yeah, that wasn't cool. Did it putting on a shirt.
Gouged out by a rogue barracuda that I then killed with my bare hands in an underwater duel to the death? THAT WOULD BE COOL. A STORY MY PIRATE CREW COULD BE PROUD OF. ARRRRGH, LAME... FUCKITY...
Ummm...yeah... onward!
The thing is, when I'm getting ready for work, or performing any task, it's full speed ahead and damn the torpedoes. The saying "bull in a china shop" has been used by several people who've seen me in action. Careful? Deliberate? Calm? THAT'S CRAZY TALK. NOW GET OUTTA MY WAY ZOMG, ZOOM ZOOM ZOOM. Imagine asking a gorilla hopped up on amphetamines to assist you in moving your Faberge egg collection. The game Operation nearly gives me a nervous breakdown and I want to destroy it with a hammer for taunting me.
Luckily, I still have my right eye! I'd have missed that eye. I wasn't sure it was still working, or still fucking present, for about five minutes. Five long minutes of holding my hand to that eye, trying to open it and the lids just not cooperating, because motherfucking owwwww. Then there was the hour or so of it throbbing and tearing up, but I COULD SEE AND YAAAAAY SWOLLEN RED EYEBALL I CAN SEE WITH! Now it's just sore and I've got a creepy red splotch for proof. I think a creepy red splotch is way better than a doctor's note. Not that I have to bother with a doc note at my job, but you get the point. IT'S CREEPY.
Work did not happen, of course. I called and said I might make it in late. Yeah, no. The absolute terror in that five minutes produced an adrenaline rush you would not believe, and when I crashed off of that? Hooooo-ly shit. It was like my limbs were full of lead and my brain did an emergency shut down.
Now that my brain is powering back up and I have about 50% motor function, I thought I'd share. BTW, this is not the first, second, third...I don't know how many times I've done this. One day. One day my luck will run out and don't even fucking think I won't be rockin' an eye patch with a big-ass skull and crossbones on it, because I WILL.
TOT, but this is what I'd have posted if I wasn't a spastic douchebag.
All that BtVS Not!Canon Faux 8 Spoogeapalooza talk got me in a fannish mood. Yes, getting my bitch on was inspiring. Oh, what. You fuckers know me. I breathe therefore I bitch. I got thoughts and shit about SPN that I'ma try and share after I can brain again. Don't worry, it won't be meta. I don't meta. I have four modes of fangirl jibbering.
A. Bitching
B. Mocking
C. Squeeing
D. Raging
As my profile states, I can guarantee nothing worthwhile will be forthcoming. I leave thoughtful up to you people. I'm too busy maiming myself performing mundane tasks to consider the profound statement on American class issues which arises when considering Jimmy's trench vs Dean's leather, and the fact Sam's choice of nondescript outerwear proves his superiority to every other character on the show.
Yeah, how obvious is it that I've possibly run across one too many whiny-ass, Sam fellating episode reviews. I'm guessing very.
Yeah, that wasn't cool. Did it putting on a shirt.
Gouged out by a rogue barracuda that I then killed with my bare hands in an underwater duel to the death? THAT WOULD BE COOL. A STORY MY PIRATE CREW COULD BE PROUD OF. ARRRRGH, LAME... FUCKITY...
Ummm...yeah... onward!
The thing is, when I'm getting ready for work, or performing any task, it's full speed ahead and damn the torpedoes. The saying "bull in a china shop" has been used by several people who've seen me in action. Careful? Deliberate? Calm? THAT'S CRAZY TALK. NOW GET OUTTA MY WAY ZOMG, ZOOM ZOOM ZOOM. Imagine asking a gorilla hopped up on amphetamines to assist you in moving your Faberge egg collection. The game Operation nearly gives me a nervous breakdown and I want to destroy it with a hammer for taunting me.
Luckily, I still have my right eye! I'd have missed that eye. I wasn't sure it was still working, or still fucking present, for about five minutes. Five long minutes of holding my hand to that eye, trying to open it and the lids just not cooperating, because motherfucking owwwww. Then there was the hour or so of it throbbing and tearing up, but I COULD SEE AND YAAAAAY SWOLLEN RED EYEBALL I CAN SEE WITH! Now it's just sore and I've got a creepy red splotch for proof. I think a creepy red splotch is way better than a doctor's note. Not that I have to bother with a doc note at my job, but you get the point. IT'S CREEPY.
Work did not happen, of course. I called and said I might make it in late. Yeah, no. The absolute terror in that five minutes produced an adrenaline rush you would not believe, and when I crashed off of that? Hooooo-ly shit. It was like my limbs were full of lead and my brain did an emergency shut down.
Now that my brain is powering back up and I have about 50% motor function, I thought I'd share. BTW, this is not the first, second, third...I don't know how many times I've done this. One day. One day my luck will run out and don't even fucking think I won't be rockin' an eye patch with a big-ass skull and crossbones on it, because I WILL.
TOT, but this is what I'd have posted if I wasn't a spastic douchebag.
All that BtVS Not!Canon Faux 8 Spoogeapalooza talk got me in a fannish mood. Yes, getting my bitch on was inspiring. Oh, what. You fuckers know me. I breathe therefore I bitch. I got thoughts and shit about SPN that I'ma try and share after I can brain again. Don't worry, it won't be meta. I don't meta. I have four modes of fangirl jibbering.
A. Bitching
B. Mocking
C. Squeeing
D. Raging
As my profile states, I can guarantee nothing worthwhile will be forthcoming. I leave thoughtful up to you people. I'm too busy maiming myself performing mundane tasks to consider the profound statement on American class issues which arises when considering Jimmy's trench vs Dean's leather, and the fact Sam's choice of nondescript outerwear proves his superiority to every other character on the show.
Yeah, how obvious is it that I've possibly run across one too many whiny-ass, Sam fellating episode reviews. I'm guessing very.