Okay.
OW, GODDAMNIT!!!!!
I just "busted a move" out there in a calf pen, that I've only ever seen, like, freakin' ballet dancers do. I was carrying a five-gallon bucket o'grain into a calf pen to dump into the feed trough. I had it in my right hand.I was walkin' along and took another step with my left foot and stepped on a dark, wet, inclined board and slid like a muthafucker and landed with my left leg straight out to the side, with my knee bent and my foot way off to the left behind me somewhere, right onto my ass.
If I really did have actual balls, I'd have slammed the sonsabitches right up into my throat.
Meanwhile, my right arm, courtesy of my right elbow, takes a header into the fuckin' bucket.
And, of COURSE, my entire torso twisted in a manner God did NOT intend. Fuckin' OW, ya got-damned KNOW? Yeah.
So do I. Holy hot freakin' SHIT. My.
leg.
hurts.
(damn it) From the inside of my left knee, around the front and down to the outside of my left ankle is HOT. It feels hot and sore. My right elbow/shoulder/arm is making me aware of it... kinda like it's waiting for me to relax or something, then it's gonna get me. Hard. This is one of those kind of deals where ya really don't know how bad it is til later. I mean, I can sure as hell feel soreness and aches and heat right now, but I just know after I sit down for any length of time, I'm gonna regret it. BUT... the calves are all bedded with new straw and fed. Still hafta do the horse stalls, go to the store, make dinner, do the wash, blah, blah, fuggin' BLAH, though.... Oughta be fun do to with a pronounced LIMP.
(damn it) Man, I was so pissed... I damned near cried. I don't get that pissed off very often anymore, but if I do.... Billy Jack, let alone any regular person, better look the fuck out. I couldn't move, once I wrenched my leg back to where it belongs.
I just sat there, with my elbow on my knee and my head on my hand.
(Yeah, left knee, left elbow, left hand, the one head...)
It was nice to know I could do that, at that moment. Eric hadda come help me up. Then, I just kept trembling and "walked it off". Kinda. When I didn't cry from being so pissed, Josh, the "calf kid" looks at me and says, "You da man..."
I busted up then.... laughing. That's got-damned right, I am. I "cowboy-ed up" and kept limping around, making up new cuss words.
Til Eric brought me four lollipops.
*giggles* Done already ate the green apple one.
Working on the rootbeer now. Jeezus.
Just realized these are the only thing I've eaten all day.... So...
do ya think this is a sign from Gawd about whether or not to try coordinating three jobs, or WHAT? Just ow.
(Well, not just ow... "ow" surrounded, cushioned, enveloped even, in a tapestry of cussing that the Dad in "A Christmas Story" would envy, but y'all know what I mean.)
(Which, btw, oughta scare the hell out'n ya...)
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