Thursday, January 15, 2009

I've fallen and I can't get up

Who would have thunk that I'd be sitting around on this cold winter night, wishing to be The Gimp?

Yes, you read that right. I'm not wishing to be Forrest Gump. I wish I was The Gimp, not the Gump. And I can promise you that this has nothing to do with our outing to the sex toy shop on Sunday.

I'll leave that last sentence alone because my dear, sweet mother reads this......

So you are probably asking, "Why would a nice girl like CBM wish she was THE GIMP?" Keep your pants on people, I'm going to tell you why:

Because for the last week, I have been this gimp

I am pretty sure this is karma kicking me in the ass for wishing that I was in a wheelchair this summer so that the Mr. could push me around Vancouver. Karma probably isn't the right word here, but get off my back, I'm nursing an injury. And possible head trauma.

So the long and short of it is I fell while playing tennis on Saturday. Be glad that you didn't witness this horrendous event. I'm fairly certain it was the most ungraceful and klutzy act of my entire life.

The punishment for my crime is that I am not supposed to be on my feet for TWO WEEKS. And just in case that doesn't learn me all up right, I can't play tennis for FOUR WEEKS. You can already see that I am talkin' like a billy after a mere 4 days on the couch. What will I become after 14 days? At least I am still showering.

OK, so enough waah, waah, waahing about me. My experience has given me a new respect for those with permanent disabilities. I have been aware, for most of the last 35 years, that most of the people on this planet are butt heads. It seems these days, whenever I leave the house, butt heads are everywhere. They stare and you and cut you off. They get huffy when walking behind you. They don't hold doors or elevators.

I have considered installing a machine gun in my crutches, but I seriously can't see myself being someone's bitch after I'm imprisioned for my crimes. So instead, I'll vent through this post.

Now I'm not going to open a can of Jerry Lewis woop-ass on all ya'll. I'm just going to remind you to be nice to those in need. And I'm not talking about me here, unless of course you find me fumbling to light my cig while holding a beer and trying to teeter on one leg. Angeline Jolie would so want you to help me. My point here? If you see someone who is struggling, for the love of Pete, help them out. My momma taught me that, why didn't yours? Because your momma wears combat boots.

And if I catch you, not helping? I'll first do this.... try to mess with your game, throw you off. And then I'll woop ya....

.... militant grandma style. Remember, Big Momma is bad ass. And I have friends....


Anonymous said...

Better now than during the summer! I still think you should ride the handi cart at Kroger.

Anonymous said...

I wish I didn't have bubble guts and could have seen you fall all over yourself.

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