Amberations

Tuesday, August 09, 2005
heaven is a juice bag!

Well shit. It's already dayam August! For many, August means summer and tans and wild ghetto-themed parties; but when you're a walking disaster it means injury season. Last season brought two glass-in-foot cases and a sliced finger while this year bestowed a sprained ankle and leg infectionage. And when you have a leg infection, it also means there are pretty good chances you'll be on antibiotics... and when you are on antibiotics, you should steer clear of the gong. Thus I am bored here now in Kitimat as my friends enjoy cervezas in my living room, so I decided to ignore them and write you the story in incorrect English.

So there I was. An injury-free Amber with a fully healed ankle; spending Saturday climbing Kitimat's Mount Elizabeth. It's a rather huge rock- steep too if you will- but we conquered it relatively quickly and I didn't damage myself or any of the fellow hikers. That is until the way down the mountain when an evil hornet with big sharp pointy teeth mauled me viciously from behind- right through my shorts. I narrowly escaped and was left to hobble down the rest of Mt Lizzy waving my muddy fists in the air and crying "SACRE BLEU!" at this world and the evil gnawing bugs it breeds.

After this tantrum I didn't think too much of it. After all, people hike, people step on hornets' nests, people get bitten by hornets. But what many people don't get bitten by is a dirty hornet.
I believe my hornet was a rare breed known as the "dirty French hornet" (see figure 1, above). Dirty French hornet bites begin to swell and blister and spread down your leg, morphing into something which resembles hollandaise sauce on pimply, blubberous, fried chicken skin.

When I could no longer take the burning and itching and puss the French hornet had left, I rushed to a Swedish Dr who (after a few hmmms and JA-JAs) declared that my leg was indeed a bit of a dog's breakfast. He immediately installed this neat tube in my arm so that I can go in twice everyday to get juiced-up with anti-dirty-hornet-biotics. I also get to sit on this groovey vinyl chair with wheels and a nurse-buzzer and my very own little bag of juice on a pole! Wheeeeeeee!
But it really is too bad the hornet infection is disappearing. I've always wanted to yell "NOW I'M AN AMPUTEE GOD DAMN YOU!"

So watch out for those hornets this year folks- not all stories end as happily as mine...

|

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?