Velociworld

KONKED

And I don't mean conched like James Brown's hair. I mean konked as in having the everloving shit knocked out of you.

So I was mowing the backyard this afternoon, and I am always careful around a particular oak tree. Because my height on the riding lawnmower is X, and the height of this particular tree branch is Y. Y is less than X.

This is very important! Y is less than X!

And so I'm usually very careful maneuvering around this branch, but I had the brilliant idea of listening to Skeeter's Discman, headphones on, Discman thrust into my shorts, to get Bono as close to my privates as possible, in a willful effort to give him a piece of my mind, and I was doing some kind of spastic dance thing on the mower. So much so that I completely forgot the Killer Branch, and as I rounded the tree it smacked me, right in the fucking cranium.

I almost fell off the mower, my eyes welled with tears. That hurt. Bad. But I'm a Can Do guy, I'm a fucking Do Bee, I ain't a Don't Bee, so I persevered, being almost finished.

And I swear, as I rounded that tree again, and the same song was on, and the spastic dance had recommenced, I'll be damned if I didn't hit that branch again. BAM! Right in the same spot. Only this time the traumatized area broke skin, and there was blood.

The tears welled in my eyes again, but this time there was snot running down my nose. It was just like when you lose a playground fight when you're six years old, and you walk home, crying, face dirty, the tears creating rivulets down the dust on your face, and the snot pouring out of your nose. Hot tears of shame, the worst feeling in the world, and all you can do is take your tongue and lick the snot as it reaches your lips, to keep it at bay. I was doing that.

And so now I am sitting on my lanai, nursing a cocktail, having stypticked my scalp, and I am eyeballing that branch. Yeah, verily, it do block the view of the house across the lake, and therefore held value in my life prior to today, but I swear to God I'm going to get my chainsaw and castrate that bastard. Then I shall cook it in my fireplace. I don't care if it was 108 with the heat index today. I'll crank the AC down to 59.

My head hurts, and I'm going to kill that fucking branch.