h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

 To put it bluntly, borrowed laundry detergent and plaster casts plain out don't mix. Oh, sure your friends squeal with delight when they gaze upon the spanking new bright white appendage on which they can sign their name with impunity. How about you? All you can do is accept the fact that your new tempporary nickname will be something degrading towards your current condition (i.e. Gimpy, Quasimodo), whatever applies to the present situation. Guys for example; your wrist is fractured so your new nickname is Spanky. Or you get in a motorcycle accident and break some mysterious bone never heard by private citizens, regardless, your new name is Superman or Supergirl.
Now, onto the subject of Detergent. The week before, you borrowed some laundry detergent from your friend down the hall in your dorm. The next week you find out that your skin spontaneously developed an allergic reaction to that detergent. So, instead of your clothes being Downey soft without the hastle of static cling (which, for some reason, hasn't been heard of since the Reagan administration...gets ya' thinkin don't it?) your stopping every ten seconds to scratch an itch being caused by microscopic gremlins with their microscopic red-hot pokers. Sound bad? Now...(you can see where this is going can't you?) imagine how bad that itches...take a 3 day old cast...and add those two together. If you actually had worse let me know so I stop itching and put down my calamine.
SP6UD (the 6 is silent)
 

Ahh yes, the gimpy name. I just choose to make the best of it and yell "SUPER GIMP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" when I am crutching around anywhere.

*grin*

I've been given some crude names...considering the company I keep and people I work with and were we work (got all that?). It doesn't bother me at all though, in fact, I prefer to keep everybody off gaurd by doing stupid, albeit STRANGE things. Oh, might I mention, this cast is on because I have a fractured wrist that's about 1 year old. So, whenever somebody makes a rude joke about HOW I managed to injure my wrist, I simply reply that I was merely trying out for the olympic team by performing one of the more unorthodox yet dangerous routines (you would really be better off not knowing), something distracted me and hence the fiberglass cast that rests ever so uncomfortably on my arm.

Well, injuring yourself through sheer stupidity (like me) lends itself to a lot of ribbing...so what did you do?!?!

Do you want the truth or what everybody jokes about?

The real answer of course - I can imagine what everyone jokes about!

At first I thought I injured it in the gym on the punching bag. But at the follow up appointment, the doctor sid it looked a lot older than the 2 months I had said before. Apparently, it's been most likely fractured for almost a year after an incident where I tripped over a hurdle in High School. Anyways, if it doesn't heal, I need to have surgery.

OUCH! I hope it doesn't come to that! I am finally off my crutches completely and running around like a mad woman - I'm gonna hurt it more one of these days but oh well.

Running around? How about scampering, or is it too soon for that? I know about the whole "docter's orders" thing...

Frolicking is always a good choice. You see, when you frolick, you tend to get into the happy go lucky land of, Euphoria. That's usually too close to the land of Acid-Tweakers, and the Asphyxiated Paint Eaters...but anyway...
Usually, as the great Spankules and the obtrusive Spudicles should know, the MAN's way to get around from one place to another does not involve scampering, or even to that extent, Frolicking. However, it does involve certain renditions following background music of the Nutcracker Suite. Ahhhh yes. The Dance of The Sugar Plum Fairies....

Signed,
The Flagellancy Himself...