- my hip is still all effed up. Heavy sigh. I'm still doing a ton of physical therapy but it's not really helping. However, I did find out last night that my sister Kerry hates it when I call it PT. Bonus! PT PT PT PT PT.
- I am now 33 years old, the same age as my buddy Jesus Christ when he was crucified. What a slacker that guy was! I have accomplished so much more in my 33 years, namely memorizing commercials and watching every Brady Bunch episode.
- my mother is not going to like that last bullet point or the fact that I said effed. She sent me to my room for saying a word that rhymes with lock and that refers to something usually underwhelming. What, I am talking about a rooster! Sick minds. Anyway, sorry Mom. Happy anniversary to my parents! They have been married for three blissful years and 34 years total. Heyyyyyy yooooooo.
- I'm still hobbling around on crutches and still living at my parents' house. Neither one is something I would recommend trying. I have been a little bit down in the dumps, which I think is understandable considering I injured myself in November and have been living at my mom's since January. Also, Wham! is still broken up and people still like the Beach Boys. Anyway, I'm trying to keep my spirits up but if anyone wants to donate a functioning lower 1/4 of your body, just say the word. I'll take it.
- I am going to write more, even if talking about crutches and muscle tears and sharing a bathroom with my sister makes me feel like Debbie Downer.
- oh, I have to do a whole separate update about Cooper and his progress in obedience classes. For now, check out this picture. Coop has made himself completely at home. My dad's fashion sense, on the other hand, is still strange and foreign.