If You Wanted To Do Something, All You Have To Do !s Ask.

Apparently, there is a little bit of Evil Knievel that exists in my dad. My Dad who will turn 83 a few months ago. The daredevil himself who thinks his abilities from a child carrys through his somewhat elderly limbs.

There is a point in life where you say "fuck it" and milk the senior card. Pops, 83, and mommy, 81, my kids as I call them, will not grab that "get out of jail free" card and tell from the tree tops "wipe my ass".

That isn't them.... and lord help me, I'll probably end up the same way.

So the limbs of my young dad decided to not listen to his brain when he got up to go to the washroom. Instead, his stutter step turned into a head dive into the divider wall beside the fridge and apply a soon to be 2" war wound on the top of his forehead.

It was bleeding good. He was a trooper and didn't think much of it..... "a flesh wound, I say".

After waiting over two hours later in the Emergency Room, for a doc to freeze and staple the wound shut. Another 10 minutes for a nurse to wander in and toss a piece of gauze at the river of flesh & metal and wrapped his up good.

Boo-boo all better.