As I was leaving work on Monday night I stepped on an ice patch in the parking lot, and somehow managed to administer an Atomic Knee-Drop to the pavement. And the pavement was not impressed. My knee hurt like a sumbitch, and I ended up wallowing around in a mud hole for a minute or two, with a pronounced grimace on my face.
There was nobody out there at the time, which is a good thing. If someone had laughed at me, everything probably would have gone black and I would’ve woke up with the front of a dress shirt clutched in my fist. I have a long history of losing my freaking mind when people laugh at me when I’m hurt; I’m simply not a fan. And if some goody-goody had tried to help, it probably wouldn’t have been much better. So, it’s best that I endured the episode alone.
I eventually returned to my feet, and my entire left side was soaked-through. It was warm outside, and everything was melty and wet. But, clearly, it was still a work in process, ‘cause I’d found some healthy ice underneath all that water.
Then I had a horrible thought: my phone! If that thing slipped out of my pocket, and is now lying at the bottom of that puddle… my exploded knee cap is the least of my problems. I began frantically patting myself down, like String Bean on Hee Haw, and discovered that my phone was still safe and sound in the interior pocket of my jacket.
And once I realized that disaster was averted, the pain returned to my knee. I’d almost forgotten about it during my Android-based panic attack, but now it was front and center again.
When I got home I took off my jeans, and there was a big open sore on the left side of my right knee. It was like when I was a kid, and fell down on the sidewalk. It didn’t feel too good, but didn’t appear to be anything serious. All the pain seemed to be on the outside, which was a good sign.
And get this… When I returned to work on Tuesday, my interim boss asked if I’d fallen in the parking lot the night before. Apparently the security guards saw it happen, or noticed me rolling around on the asphalt out there, and reported it to her. Hey, thanks for checking on me! Thanks for rushing to my side, assholes!!
I had to fill out an accident report and the whole nine yards. But the good news is that my knees aren’t completely Mickey Mantle’d up. And my pelvis didn’t turn into a pelvis-shaped pile of dust. These are positives, I believe.
Last night at work I bought a bottle of Brisk “iced tea” from one of the vending machines, and the bottle was shockingly flimsy. Have you noticed this? It was just one step up from a plastic bag. The thing was difficult to grip, because there wasn’t even enough integrity to facilitate a gripping.
Is this some kind of environmental thing? Are these new biodegradable bottles, or something? Or is it just an attempt by PepsiCo to save a hundredth of a cent per bottle, by giving us a crappy grade o’ plastic?
It was almost like a Magnum condom full of tea. Do you know anything about this? Please help me out, won’t you?
And I’ve mentioned, probably on more than one occasion, that I’ve started to fixate on podcasts. I download them through iTunes, and listen at work. I especially like Adam Carolla and Marc Maron.
Brad sent me this list of a USA Today columnist’s ten favorite comedy podcasts, and my two faves appear there. I’m unfamiliar with many of the others, and will be checking them out soon. In fact, I already listened to an episode each of Never Not Funny and Mike & Tom Eat Snacks.
Did she miss anything in the comedy category? I’m in a podcast frenzy over here, and would appreciate your suggestions.
And I always feel funny about bringing this up, but if you’ve ever thought about making a donation of beer to “the cause,” right now would be a really good time. Ahem. Here’s the link. As always, I appreciate your support. And if you’d like to buy a shirt, you can do so here. Much appreciated!
Yeah, I feel funny about that kind of thing, but some of those podcasters just come right out with it: “SEND ME MONEY!!” Just so you know, I’ll never go that far.
I’ll leave you now with the Question of the Day. I’d like to read your stories about falling down. It could be ice-related, like mine, or something else. Perhaps you fell down a flight of stairs, or plunged down a manhole like Larry Fine, or maybe went over a porch railing in a drunken stupor? Anything interesting about falling down will do. Please use the comments link below.
And I’ll be back on Friday, my friends.
Have yourselves a great day!
Rode down two flights of stairs on my ass with a forty pound dog on my lap and my tail bone banged every step on the way down. We were playing a club in Anchorage for a couple months and the club gave us three rent-a-wrecks to use and put us up in apartments. I called the place we stayed “Seizures Palace”. Second floor inside entrance. Carpet up the stairs but covered with that plastic runner stuff they use for protection. Factor in winter and snow being tracked in which melts to water that may as well be snot when you add rubber sole boots. Opened my apartment door to take Stanley out for a good romp and was right there when the guy across the carpet runner opened his door to take his sheep dog out for the same thing. That little space got crowded quick and the sheep dog jumped Stanley and the yelping and growling the most incredible instant dog fight was on in an isntant. The big sheep dog had Stanley pinned. I grabed the sheep dog by the forehead, pulled it off Stanley and grabed Stan with my other hand. Then I picked him up and turned. My boots slipped on the water and I went on my ass, craddled Stan and rode the stairs to the bottom. Bev (now my wife) and Sito (her then boyfriend our soundman) lived at the bottom apartment where I came to a stop. They came out after hearing all that and there was me and Stanley. I couldn’t move. Sito helped me up and back up the stairs. My butt was numb and I could barely walk. I sat in a tub of hot water for hours. I could hardly lift my legs just over a foot to make it onto the bandstand each night. It hurt for months. I couldn’t sit at all and was worried about the flight home even after a month it happened. Luckily it was a three month gig but I was still sore for many months afterwards when I got home to Vegas.
I took my sister to the airport at Lewisburg, WV. I had on my high heel boots and I was working it. Right in front of the window, I hit a patch of ice and was air borne. I remember the feeling. In. the. air. My ass came down hard. My sister, being the loving sibling she is, peed herself laughing at me. I confess, I would have done the same. Of course, the biggest worry is, did anyone see me. Yes, the whole airport saw me. They were laughing as well. Thank God it was Lewisburg, WV and not Atlanta, GA.
The second episode occurred when I was getting ready for the big family Christmas event at our house, since we lived at the old home place. I was just getting into the clean the fuck out of the house mode, cleaning out the fridge. I took a pan of beets to throw over the fence (farm living, is the life for me), and slipped on the icy steps right on my back. I thought I was dead, it hurt so bad. My youngest son witnessed the event, and seeing the beet juice, thought I was bleeding. My ex ran out to get me on my feet, and I was like, “Stop, stop, stop. It hurtsss!” Anyway, I spent Christmas eve in the ER, and the exes family kept calling, “Are we still having that thing?” Of course we are. Those assholes didn’t even give me a place to sit. Thank God for the good drugs.
Most recently, I was hauling clean laundry down the steps, got to the bottom step, my flip flopped foot twisted, and I fell flat on my face. My foot looked like a balloon someone had blown up, a multicolored balloon. Big old strawberry on my knee and on my chin.
Falling is a bitch. The important thing is, did anyone see you.
Until you’re pushing 50 – then the important thing is “did I break my hip”!
I don’t know about those particular bottles – our machine gives cans – but flimsification is definitely a trend in plastic bottles in general. The company saves that hundredth of a cent (the real motivation), while feeling entitled to crow that “we’re going green!” (pure bullshit).
I’ve never really listened to a podcast, except for this guy “Jeff Kay” who used to do them.
Ice-wise, the other week I slipped but recovered while snow-brushing the car. My most interesting incident was dropping the motorcycle when it skidded on an icy road.
Jeff, enjoy the Weyerbacher Simcoe.
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Hubby and I slid on our motorcycle when we were dating, I had road rash all down my leg and my knee hurt. The week before some a-hole turned in front of us and I knew he was going to have to lay the bike down – so I jumped off so he could do it. I rolled a few times and was fine – he had to go to the hospital. On the up-side he totally wiped out the side of the guys car. He knew the guy and was bleeding all over everything and still wanted to beat the shit out of him! (high school guys -what are ya gonna do?) Thought my parents were going to say no more motorcycle riding, but they knew better! If it wasn’t for that bike I prolly would have never married my love!
We’ve had a few assholes pull out in front of us over the years. Terrible feeling. They think you can stop on a dime. The last time it happened to us….after skidding to a halt….we caught up to the car and I kicked the drivers door with my boot. Dumb ass bitch didn’t even take her eyes off the road like it never happened.
Terri, I’m glad you both came out OK. Several years ago, my cousin was a lot less lucky. A car turned left in front of them; my cousin walked away without a scratch, but her husband was killed.
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Companies don’t give a shit about going green unless you’re speaking of greenbacks. The bottles are thinner only to rake in more dough. But now that you’ve suggested it, it’s only a matter of time until we’re all swinging sheepskin bladders full of Brisk around. Can’t wait.
I’d rather have a sheep’s stomach, full of haggis.
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Brisk is bad….but not that bad.
As a public service I must add: Do NOT, under any circumstances, do a Google image search of the word “deformed”. Jeebus McChristy!!
Now…you KNOW that’s a formal invite for most of us who frequent this establishment!!
Wow. Mom was right; I never listen…
Some of those cannot be unseen.
Telling me NOT to usually means I need to. I liked the deformed Bush picture.
Covered a night shift for a co-worker who had gone to Florida. Got home at about 3:30 in the morning and slipped on a patch of ice in my driveway. Saw stars and everything. When I got up the next morning I couldn’t find my glasses anywhere. I hit my head so hard I guess I forgot about the fall because it never occurred to me they might be out side. I found them when I went to get the paper.
Is Zsa Zsa dead yet? I can pick up 6 regular points plusr ten bonus points in my Celebrity Dead Pool.
No, but Uncle Leo from Seinfeld bit the dust yesterday. Jesus HELLO !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Just read that a couple hours ago. That guy was a guest star in like every TV show from the beginning of time. Liked him best in Raymond.
Late to the commenting party, but I recommend this list: “A Seriously Comprehensive Guide to Comedy Podcasts” http://splitsider.com/2011/01/a-seriously-comprehensive-guide-to-comedy-podcasts/. I’m a big WTF and Pod F. Tompkast fan.
I recall one fall in particular that was totally voluntary. We had taken the kids to go sledding and I completely misjudged the steepness of the hill. Result?
Fat guy flying down the hill on a tube (a la Christmas Vacation), I hit the bump at the bottom and see sky-snow-sky-snow-sky in rapid succession. Fortunately nothing broken but my pride!
I told the story of slipping on ice at whattaburger a few weeks ago. The arm is getting better but is probably still only about 52%. I’m pretty sure I blasted the rotator cuff.
And sometimes I love my job. I got to write this earlier:
CORROSION ON BUTT STRAP
t-storm, when we used to go to Lake Texoma to camp/fish every year a guy used to say you have to go to whataburger. With his “accent” it sounded like waterburger. I didn’t think that sounded appealing. We finally did go there and the food was pretty good. We still call it waterburger!