I might have to break a couple of semi-famous thumbs.
Believe it or not, I have a friend, who recently became "famous" for quitting. Well, at least "internet famous" (in Tucson only) when he quietly retired.
If you see me being led away in handcuffs anytime soon, it was just life teaching me another little lesson about me. Here's my side of the story.
I've ranted, raved and complained like a 2-year-old with no cookie about the United States Tennis Association. And just when I thought I was out for good, they pulled me back in.
I learned something deep and dark about myself. If two of my friends ever go to hunt down the last white tiger on earth, the Bear and I would tag along, not say a fucking word, and laugh at all the wrong times. Sounds awful I know.
I fucking knew Josh and Angry Ed would not be able to let that go. I would have bet a month's pay it would be Angry Ed... but it wasn't.
After years of physical therapy and anti-inflammatories, followed by months of injections and finally artho knee surgery, I finally found my "miracle". Cortisone.
I only have one "sex" story that I used to share in public. I was 16 years old and working at the ghetto grocery store that was a few blocks from my parents' house. One winter night around 9 p.m. I was rounding up the last of the shopping carts in the parking lot. This tiny little rusted out piece-of-shit sedan was a rockin'.
We all have our little addictions. Some good, some not so good. For the past decade, I've been hooked on the crack.
The surgeon looked at me with the kind of disgust one saves for making sure the cockroach is dead before you throw it in the trash. "What do you mean it still hurts?" he said. "You had a leaf tear and I smoothed it all out."