i know, i suck so hard lately. i haven't been blogging like, at all. but here's the thing- it's not so much the broken ankle that blows, but more so the not being able to walk or carry anything because my hands are full of crutches and vicodin.
and there's also the gigantor muscle knot stuck way down inside my hot overheating death cast where i can't do anything to help it. that too.
since mostly i just sit on the couch, i made this little video with my camera where you can see my drug of choice, complete with me whining (ultra-sexily) for more at the end. i am a junkie.
at some point this week i will regale you with my apartment hunting foibles (foibles? really?), but right now we have some contest crap to deal with. you can read all the entries in the comments of my previous post, and then come back here for some well thought out (and not at all hasty or slapdash) responses:
faith: i never knew you thought i was so sexxxxxy. i mean, i am. but i didn't know you knew.
jurgen nation: bryan adams signed my cast? actually, when i was eleven (maybe) i stepped on a rusty rake and had to have my foot bandaged and some tetanus shots and that was the summer of "all for love (robin hood)" and i would have totally been wayyyyy into this story then. not that i'm not now. but then, i would fight for you...i'd lie for you, walk the wire for you, i'd die for you... you know it's true
everything i do
i do it for you brooke: sex whilst sky diving does not seem like something i would do. i am not outdoorsy. except that one time. surely you are projecting, you ham hussy.
kathy: sting is incredibly unsexy to me. i'm sorry, and i know that many many women disagree, but i find him sort of icky. he's too wirey, and also old. and also mooshy.
spinnerina: scrimshaw! rickshaw! narwhal! siamese twins! shetland pony! laurieann: the assailant was mighty furry, now that you mention it. are you watching me? jiggs casey: a dozen kittens?!?!?!? you know the way to my heart. marcie: britney spears needs a friend. poor poor girl. let's have her over for tea.
monkey: my foot was a banana table? AND they pooped? i did not issue the proper permits for this sort of foot usage! tim: scut farkas can kiss my butt.
acw:- is this a threat? colleen: hotglue would never work- it becomes brittle when dry! but mega points for mentioning leonard nimoy. Hal I Burton: the cast of full house? really? sure the stamos part was cool, but he was so last year on this blog.
pink sara: i don't want to be achilles! then i have to make out with my man servant. oh, wait. hmmm. sarah smile: yes. the terrible and most fearsome candygram. i mean land shark.
uccellina: this is incredibly true to life, and the use of rhyme is admirable. now take those smarty pants off and share with the rest of us.
princess: i was peeping on the hoff? i'm blind! i didn't realize my readers thought so poorly of my taste in men. ubermilf: this seems highly plausible, as patrick swayze is definitely of questionable niceness. trevor: lies, all lies.
pants: richard marx and gary coleman in one fell swoop? there is a small part of me (no pun intended) that prefers emmanuel lewis, but still, you kill me. the roy: i like the part with the shoes best, just a touch more than when i kick the crap out of everyone. and fyi, i actually own leopard shoes. they're very awesome. tits: braless unicorns? chocha? i love you. todd: 10. i hate you. 9. he never called. again, hating. 8. now loving. 7. little person, todd. little person in a gimp suit. 6. i have never been to red lobster. 5. ike turner can suck it. 4. from a dude on the median at fairfax and venice! offramp shopping = bad idea. 3. YES. 2. poor poor britney. 1. best response ever.
so here's the thing- since i have so many stories, and truthfully, have another two weeks atleast in this godforsaken medical ugg, i will be needing multiple stories with which to amuse myself at the expense of the gullible masses.
those aren't your actual prizes- those are some that i made special for a certain other group of ladies (watch the mail bitchez). you will be receiving your own custom pasties just as soon as i can get my butt to the pastie supply store. except todd, who was offered man pasties, but declined in favor of a tchotchke.
mostly i just sit around and complain that my foot/ankle/leg hurts.
or my butt from all the sitting. or my hands from the crutches, or my delicate flowery heart from the fact that scut farkas never called. just kidding, i don't care that he never called. i'd rather hear from the lawyer.
since it gets really boring telling people what happened, i have invented a game where i get to tell a new story whenever i feel like it. i'm going to give you some brief and under-developed examples, and then i am holding a contest, wherein you could actually win a prize*, based on who makes up the best** story about how i broke my damn ankle. please post it in the comments section.
* you can see past contests and prizes over here and here. **best means whatever i feel like right then.
example one: the original
i was attacked by ninjas. tiny ninjas. and i have obviously proven myself very mighty indeed, as they only broke my ankle. those feeble tiny ninjas, so feeble. and also tiny.
example two: via some dude at the lava lounge
i fell off the stage in a jennifer connelly look-a-like contest. celebrating my win of course.
example three: at the march meeting of "wine club"
this is what happens when you become an official member of wine club. and from then on, you can't talk about wine club.
example four: also at wine club
i was on pimp my ride, and xhibit totally ran over my foot. he was really nice about it though, and i got to be on tv.
now you go. and don't skimp on things like strippers, super powers, crystal meth, feathers, and gratuitous nudity.
last night, at the final night of the lava lounge, i got sort of hit on by this guy.
otherwise known as this guy:
he was SUPER nice, and acted as the personal bodyguard for my broken ankle, protecting it from the stumbling drunken hordes. i didn't even recognize him at first, and was surprised to find out that he was indeed who i thought he might be, considering how kind and completely non-actory he had been all night.
he even bought me a gingerale (because contrary to popular local opinion, drinking and vicodin don't mix) and presented it to me sans roofie. that's class.
so i roofied him instead. just for fun, mind you. i'm not breaking my no sex in 07 rule for scut farkus!