Tell them Motor Scooters to Chill!
Except Jules didn't quite that way in Pulp Fiction.
I started making today's post just a blurb in my quotables, but the dang thing grew on me, like a fungus!
Here's how it started:
From the good Doctor, Candi Ashley, "And how do you know you'll be better next week? Are you icing, stretching, and massaging?" In the immortal words of Dr. Pete Pfannerstill, "That would be a no!" Hey Doctors, Chill out, as I said when .... That's where I got when I realized that this party needed some pix, hence a new post instead of a blurb in the highly acclaimed (by me) quotable section.
So here I am: and now here I grow again:
From the good Doctor, Candi Ashley, "And how do you know you'll be better next week? Are you icing, stretching, and massaging?" In the immortal words of Dr. Pete Pfannerstill, "That would be a no!" Hey Doctors, Chill out, as I said in 2002 when I was standing on a ladder twenty-two feet off of the ground with a chainsaw in my hand, "Don't worry, I always come out of these things ok!"
Next thing I knew I was in a helicopter on my way to St. Joseph's. From there they would move me via ambulance to Tampa General and do about 6 hours of Surgery on my arm. It's ok, I got two things out of it that I really liked, 1: A Helicopter Ride (though I was a little disappointed in not getting to ride out on the struts like in M*A*S*H, all I could really see was the ceiling, but with the morphine drip in full gear, it was still pretty cool) and 2: Some Chunky Monkey Ice Cream that Ali and her mommy brought me in the hospital, that was good (even if I only had a few bites before the nurses confiscated it, and then "lost it")
So, Candi, Pete, chill, these things always turn out alright (ok, someone get the Chunky Monkey ready!)