Reading Bunk's journal

Imagine this if you will.

A few years back, I was running around, playing some tag-like game with a bunch of younger cousins who were visiting. During the course of my running, I venture into the neighbors yard, onto their deck. I look around from my high point, then take a running leap toward the grass.

A second later, I'm on the ground, dizzy and stunned. I get up stumbling, and the back of my head is bleeding profusely. What happened was, my head sailed right into my neighbors' clothesline (caught me right in the eye, which was black for days). I was whipped backwards, and my head snapped right onto the edge of a cast iron deck chair.

I remembered this story the other day, when me and my girlfriend were for some reason comparing bizarre injury stories. I'm proud to say this one took the cake. She re-phrased it perfectly: "you got clotheslined by a clothesline."

You're here, aren't you? You're talking to me, aren't you?

Gosh! I can imagine the pain. For some reason busting your grape seems to be the most smarts of them all.

What comes around goes around.

Natural reaction I guess, the brain is a pretty important body part. Strangely enough, it didn't hurt all that much when it happened; what really, really, really hurt was when the doctor cleaned the cut on my head, and closed it with surgical glue. :( That was fucking ouch.

You're here, aren't you? You're talking to me, aren't you?