In which Falco is once again an idiot
I went roller blading, (I know, fuck off), with a friend who had last exercised some time in the neolithic era and needed someone to hold her hand as she tried this scary new sport. Of course she wasn't very fast, and after 5 minutes was complaining of strange pains in her legs having forgotten that exercise causes some discomfort, so I was buggering around doing sad little tricks as we went.

I jumped from forward to backwards while going fast up a hill, rad!, and fell like a pole-axed monkey's idiotic sibling. I was still moving quite fast and ripped the skin off both elbows, (no pads, I was after all extremely cool), but that's not where the surgery comes in. I'd also fallen with both force and precision on my keys, the keys that were stuck in my leg. I grabbed the little bastards and pulled them out which was not a good plan because according to the laws of reality, if you've been stabbed by something then pulling it out lets blood go everywhere.

By the time I got to my house to be stitched up, (the joy of living with Dave the drunk, insane med student), I had one blue leg and one red/maroon leg. As the only anaesthetic around was rum it took a good ten minutes to convince Dave that I was not a pirate and that stitching not amputation and a plastic parrot was the appropriate treatment.
(Falco, Thu 20 Jan 2011, 23:58, 1 reply)

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For being a rollerblading pirate!
( Fronds are waving gently on, Fri 21 Jan 2011, 22:40, closed)