This is gonna leave another mark...
Getting older sucks.
I seem to be finding more and more creative ways to try to decapitate myself.
My head has taken a beating over the past fifty years.
I’ve run under a barbed wire fence, and forgot to duck.
I’ve scaled stadium walls and forgotten how to climb down.
I’ve closed the car trunk, and forgotten to remove my head from it.
I’ve raised two sons to adulthood and as they saw it, forgot everything about my youth.
According to my wife I have on occasion forgotten to remove my head from my ass.
But this…
This was….
This was the moment in time where I finally realized I’d totally lost my “cool” factor. I’d grown out of it. It was over. I’m never getting it back. Never again can I walk into a crowded room and have a throng of admirers look at me and say, “That’s Tone, he’s so cool.”
What?
It could happen.
But not anymore.
Yesterday I split my head open because I changed the ink in my printer.
I’m officially a dork.
I keep the ink for the printer in the cabinet.
Above my computer.
The cabinet with “doors of death”. Vicious doors that reach out to maim the unsuspecting innocent.
You’re getting the picture.
I didn’t completely close the doors.
When I stood up from the desk…
Well…
Let me put it this way.
I hit my head so hard on that damn door… for a moment I actually thought that “I” was personally responsible for “Global Warming”.
I mean I nailed it.
It’s a funny thing when you hurt yourself without knowing you’re going to hurt yourself. When I fell off that wall at the stadium… Oh…. I knew it was going to hurt.
This was more like a really crappy hotel wake up call.
I just didn’t expect it.
So I couldn’t “brace” myself.
There was noooooooo bracing.
I stood up.
Whammo!
I fell down.
But on the way down I managed to break my fall a bit by hitting my left elbow on the paper tray of the inkjet printer I had just installed the new ink cartridge in snapping the tray off and catapulting the printer almost on top of me.
I was saved by a screwed in parallel port cable. If it had been a USB cable the printer would have landed on my head.
That would be the bright side.
I was sitting on my butt thinking, “Man I’d really like some fat free, sugar free, raspberry Jell-O right now.”
Don’t ask me, that’s just what came to me at the time.
Global warming and raspberry Jell-O.
I need a life.
Then I felt the blood trickling down my forehead. I wasn’t that worried about it. I’ve had stitches before and I’ve got plenty of scars. Actually this new scar will look good next to the scar I got from the trunk door of my car.
What really sucked was that I was going to have to explain this to my wife.
I hate that. I mean she married me for a reason. And it wasn’t because I spent a lot of time unconscious or in the emergency room.
I used to be an athlete. I used to be cool. I had muscles, coordination, long hair and a black Camaro.
Now I need a nurse, a bodyguard and obviously a helmet.
My wife heard the impact and came rushing into the den. She knew I was hurt so she showed me the kindness and compassion you would expect from a mate of 29 years.
“What did you do now?”
“I was testing the cabinet to make sure it was earthquake proof.”
“Um… you’re going to need stitches again.”
“No kidding.”
“Did you break the printer?”
“No… It committed suicide. It had been depressed for a while, price of ink, so it decided to hang itself.”
“Do you think now is the best time to be a smartass?”
“Why not? I’m already bleeding.”
“You’re going to have a nasty bump as well.”
“Oh joy.”
“Don’t put hairspray on that.”
“What?”
“It will sting.”
“Hairspray? Hairspray? What would make you think I need hairspray?”
“You don’t put hairspray on your head?”
“No I don’t. I’m a man.”
“Uh huh… I’ve seen you use hair spray.”
“Um… no… I use a manly hair cream.”
“Whatever, don’t put it on that gash.”
“Not a problem.”
“Why didn’t you close the cabinet door before you stood up?”
“Global warming. It threw the door off its axis.”
“Fine be an idiot. I don’t care if you answer or not but it wasn’t very smart not closing that door.”
“Really? Ya think?”
“Thank god you’re a hard headed Italian or you’d be dead by now.”
“Seriously, how bad does it look?”
“It looks like you had a hair transplant and they forgot to add the hair.”
“Beautiful. I don’t suppose bleeding and balding turns you on.”
“Oh yeah… I’m all hot and bothered right now.”
“And I’m the one that has a headache.”
“That’s actually very funny babe.”
“Do we have any Jell-O?”
I seem to be finding more and more creative ways to try to decapitate myself.
My head has taken a beating over the past fifty years.
I’ve run under a barbed wire fence, and forgot to duck.
I’ve scaled stadium walls and forgotten how to climb down.
I’ve closed the car trunk, and forgotten to remove my head from it.
I’ve raised two sons to adulthood and as they saw it, forgot everything about my youth.
According to my wife I have on occasion forgotten to remove my head from my ass.
But this…
This was….
This was the moment in time where I finally realized I’d totally lost my “cool” factor. I’d grown out of it. It was over. I’m never getting it back. Never again can I walk into a crowded room and have a throng of admirers look at me and say, “That’s Tone, he’s so cool.”
What?
It could happen.
But not anymore.
Yesterday I split my head open because I changed the ink in my printer.
I’m officially a dork.
I keep the ink for the printer in the cabinet.
Above my computer.
The cabinet with “doors of death”. Vicious doors that reach out to maim the unsuspecting innocent.
You’re getting the picture.
I didn’t completely close the doors.
When I stood up from the desk…
Well…
Let me put it this way.
I hit my head so hard on that damn door… for a moment I actually thought that “I” was personally responsible for “Global Warming”.
I mean I nailed it.
It’s a funny thing when you hurt yourself without knowing you’re going to hurt yourself. When I fell off that wall at the stadium… Oh…. I knew it was going to hurt.
This was more like a really crappy hotel wake up call.
I just didn’t expect it.
So I couldn’t “brace” myself.
There was noooooooo bracing.
I stood up.
Whammo!
I fell down.
But on the way down I managed to break my fall a bit by hitting my left elbow on the paper tray of the inkjet printer I had just installed the new ink cartridge in snapping the tray off and catapulting the printer almost on top of me.
I was saved by a screwed in parallel port cable. If it had been a USB cable the printer would have landed on my head.
That would be the bright side.
I was sitting on my butt thinking, “Man I’d really like some fat free, sugar free, raspberry Jell-O right now.”
Don’t ask me, that’s just what came to me at the time.
Global warming and raspberry Jell-O.
I need a life.
Then I felt the blood trickling down my forehead. I wasn’t that worried about it. I’ve had stitches before and I’ve got plenty of scars. Actually this new scar will look good next to the scar I got from the trunk door of my car.
What really sucked was that I was going to have to explain this to my wife.
I hate that. I mean she married me for a reason. And it wasn’t because I spent a lot of time unconscious or in the emergency room.
I used to be an athlete. I used to be cool. I had muscles, coordination, long hair and a black Camaro.
Now I need a nurse, a bodyguard and obviously a helmet.
My wife heard the impact and came rushing into the den. She knew I was hurt so she showed me the kindness and compassion you would expect from a mate of 29 years.
“What did you do now?”
“I was testing the cabinet to make sure it was earthquake proof.”
“Um… you’re going to need stitches again.”
“No kidding.”
“Did you break the printer?”
“No… It committed suicide. It had been depressed for a while, price of ink, so it decided to hang itself.”
“Do you think now is the best time to be a smartass?”
“Why not? I’m already bleeding.”
“You’re going to have a nasty bump as well.”
“Oh joy.”
“Don’t put hairspray on that.”
“What?”
“It will sting.”
“Hairspray? Hairspray? What would make you think I need hairspray?”
“You don’t put hairspray on your head?”
“No I don’t. I’m a man.”
“Uh huh… I’ve seen you use hair spray.”
“Um… no… I use a manly hair cream.”
“Whatever, don’t put it on that gash.”
“Not a problem.”
“Why didn’t you close the cabinet door before you stood up?”
“Global warming. It threw the door off its axis.”
“Fine be an idiot. I don’t care if you answer or not but it wasn’t very smart not closing that door.”
“Really? Ya think?”
“Thank god you’re a hard headed Italian or you’d be dead by now.”
“Seriously, how bad does it look?”
“It looks like you had a hair transplant and they forgot to add the hair.”
“Beautiful. I don’t suppose bleeding and balding turns you on.”
“Oh yeah… I’m all hot and bothered right now.”
“And I’m the one that has a headache.”
“That’s actually very funny babe.”
“Do we have any Jell-O?”
posted by Shrinking Wop at 5:12 PM
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