I had a similar experience years ago. Partied hearty, fell asleep and woke up with my swollen third leg pointed at the ceiling. Dang those Sloe Gin Viagra cocktails are wicked.
The guy who does my leaves in the fall was hunting deer in the fall with a bow from a tree stand, and fell out of it, knocking himself unconscious. He laid on his leg so long that he killed the blood flow, and had to have the leg cut off below the knee. He still runs his own lawn care business. He works his ass off, also climbing on top of roofs to clean them off for old women and such. Also mows other people's lawns in the summer and snow blows in the winter. He could get social security disability but did not want to take it, due to wanting to make his living on his own. He is probably 30-35 years old, so he has quite a long time to go, and he also files taxes on what he earns. He has a titanium leg, from just below the knee down, and really is a hard worker, although a bit weird. But he has my respect for being old school and made of pretty strong stuff.
February 12th\13th, 1982 - A newly-arrived Private in USAEUR, I drank Bacardi 151 and Coca-Cola and smoked hashish celebrating my birthday (13th). Fellow private I was drinking with turned off the lights and got a (strictly against regulations) candle out of his locker for light as we drank and smoked and listened to Pink Floyd. Last memory is about 12:30/1:00 AM.
I came to about 8:00 AM in Nurnberg Army Hospital with a severe burn on my right lower shin. We had both passed out, the candle had fallen off the table and set the cuff of my jeans on fire. Two months in hospital and two operations, eschar removal and skin graft.
I healed well - this was one of the first indications to me that I have a solid steel constitution - but it ultimately cost me a career in the Army because my CoC refused to believe that it wasn't my candle. The guy I was drinking with professed to remember nothing of the night and they let that stand. No matter how well I did anything after that night (I was good at the business of soldiering) I was marked the company fuckup, the dumbass who violated regs and injured himself. The other guy became the battalion commander's driver.
That's nothing. I damn near fell off of the floor a couple of times in my wayward youth.
ReplyDeleteI had a similar experience years ago. Partied hearty, fell asleep and woke up with my swollen third leg pointed at the ceiling. Dang those Sloe Gin Viagra cocktails are wicked.
ReplyDeleteI believe that also happened to Eddie Money, back in the day.
ReplyDeleteDefinitely uses a lot of Black & Decker Power Painter makeup. The hospital shot and the glamour shot look like two different people
ReplyDeleteThe guy who does my leaves in the fall was hunting deer in the fall with a bow from a tree stand, and fell out of it, knocking himself unconscious. He laid on his leg so long that he killed the blood flow, and had to have the leg cut off below the knee. He still runs his own lawn care business.
ReplyDeleteHe works his ass off, also climbing on top of roofs to clean them off for old women and such. Also mows other people's lawns in the summer and snow blows in the winter. He could get social security disability but did not want to take it, due to wanting to make his living on his own. He is probably 30-35 years old, so he has quite a long time to go, and he also files taxes on what he earns. He has a titanium leg, from just below the knee down, and really is a hard worker, although a bit weird. But he has my respect for being old school and made of pretty strong stuff.
February 12th\13th, 1982 - A newly-arrived Private in USAEUR, I drank Bacardi 151 and Coca-Cola and smoked hashish celebrating my birthday (13th). Fellow private I was drinking with turned off the lights and got a (strictly against regulations) candle out of his locker for light as we drank and smoked and listened to Pink Floyd. Last memory is about 12:30/1:00 AM.
ReplyDeleteI came to about 8:00 AM in Nurnberg Army Hospital with a severe burn on my right lower shin. We had both passed out, the candle had fallen off the table and set the cuff of my jeans on fire. Two months in hospital and two operations, eschar removal and skin graft.
I healed well - this was one of the first indications to me that I have a solid steel constitution - but it ultimately cost me a career in the Army because my CoC refused to believe that it wasn't my candle. The guy I was drinking with professed to remember nothing of the night and they let that stand. No matter how well I did anything after that night (I was good at the business of soldiering) I was marked the company fuckup, the dumbass who violated regs and injured himself. The other guy became the battalion commander's driver.
FTA