Friday, October 7, 2016

As of Yet Unharmed

Everyone was in an accident today. Every single person you know:
was struck by a car;

went down on a tree root;

was thrown ass over tea kettle by a curb;

was smacked by a tree branch that decided, on a windless day, to finally detach itself and fall;

slipped on a whole banana that had already been peeled and the peel discarded safely in a Ziploc and tossed in the trash;

contested the Democracy sprint and through a seeming improbability took down the entirety of the 7am, which was aligned as follows:
(This of course being the natural alignment of every peleton ever: the arrowhead); and
Various and sundry other forms of accidents too numerous to list.

I visited all of them in the hospital, since I was already in the hospital, having slipped on a Vaseline delivery truck spill but not actually falling, 

being as yet unharmed, 

but then diverting course into the path of an oncoming crane with a huge hook way out front, which caught the backpack I happened to be wearing and lifted me clear off my bike so the truck did not in fact strike me

and I was as yet unharmed, 

but then the crane inexplicably loosed and launched upwards and I was thrown in a manner I was sure would result in my death since my nearly NFL level football kickoff trajectory put me clearly headed towards impalement on a transistor bristling with extremely dagger-like projections until my path converged with a very rare "pile" of eagles

striking them in no way harmed me,

but did adjust my vector toward an open-topped mattress delivery truck, into which I fell but which turned out not to be delivering any mattresses, although it did have a sufficient number of boxsprings and mattress pads 

so that I was as yet unharmed

except when the driver heard the impact and felt the hit he promptly slammed on the brakes, driving me out of the box and on this new trajectory I flew back to the scene of the accident and landed directly on my fallen bike, cracking its frame and

harming myself in ways too numerous and time-consuming to describe here, except that none of them prevented me from walking around and visiting everyone you know in the hospital where they attempted to recuperate from their accidents.

Tony Barsi was there. Hains Point's new developments decided to fall on him and try to crush him. He got away with a broken collarbone and a lot of road rash that will smell like Old Bay for as long as he is alive. He will surely attract a certain kind of feral, crab-loving Murralander to his wheel.

Jason Meidhoff was struck by his National Championship trophy which had been knocked over by his World Championship trophy. 

Jose Escobar, so often killing others with kindness, was himself nearly killed from his own kindness when he watched a "treat yo'self" clip and decided to do so with his own fatal kindness.

Aaran Hotaling recently suffered terribly at the hands of his own excessively powerful Watts, which turned on him and left him with numerous striations, bumps, and blood pipes and, mysteriously, a strange tattoo on his shin.

Rob "Butterscotch Stallion" Kelly suffered excessive goose pimpe-ization after taking one too many shirtless selfies.

On the bright side, we are all still alive. Except of course all of us who will all die some day,

but we are all as of yet unharmed.

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