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I’ve still got scars on some fingers and my feet.

So I was going to write about this time a few months back when we’d forgotten to put the bins out the night before and I popped up out of bed to the sound of the garbage truck coming down our street. I ran out of the house as fast as I could grabbed the garbage bin and booked it towards the curb. I heard the truck getting close and decided to stop and see just how close it was, but the bin didn’t like that plan and kept on heading for the curb. It took me down. Hard; scrapes on both feet, both knees were bloody and swollen, one boob copped it, and one hand was bleeding like crazy with the skin scraped off a few layers deep in parts. Oh, and all this happened right in front of the truck drivers because, as it turned out, they were just next door. I’ll just take a second here to remind you that I had shot straight out of bed and looked quite a few notches below fantastic. I still got up, put the bin at the curb and headed back in without making eye contact with the truck drivers. I didn’t go back to bring the bin in until the next day. I don’t know if I was mad at it and it was supposed to be punishment or something, but I did not want to give that bin the time of day.

The reason I was planning to write about it is that the wrinkly top bit of my right ring finger got wiped right off. During the healing process I wondered if my finger would know to grow the wrinkles back or if it would come back smooth meaning I would never be able to bend my finger again. Dramatic, I realize, but I’m no doctor! Anyway, the wrinkly bit did grow back…crooked. And that was going to be the post – this story plus a picture of the crooked wrinkly bit. Only problem was that all the pictures came up with it looking perfectly straight – and it’s not. I swear! So instead you get the story and an excuse. The end.

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3 Responses

  1. that hurts me.

  2. Hahahaha!

    Ahem. Gee, mate. That’s an awful owie.

    Awfully hilarious!

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