My brother shot himself in the hand with an arrow. Only my brothers manage to defy the laws of physics in order to injure themselves. (See also: hitting themselves in the face with golf clubs.)
Some of the things I've said in the last week that were immediately followed by, "What? Don't look at me like that!" are: "I'm very fond of the adverb. I think it's probably my favorite part of speech." "Of course I know all the words to this Justin Timberlake song. There are only, like, four of them." "I can see how you might want to have sex with a cantaloupe, which if human would have nice hips that you could really hold on to, but watermelon? Watermelon would talk a good game but, when it came down to it, just lay there and sigh." "And I, for one, welcome our new earthworm overlords."
I was wandering around Pioneer Square this morning, on my way to the bookstore, and the sun seemed to have moved in under everyone's skin. Each person I passed smiled and said hello, absolutely pleased to be out and using whichever of their limbs were still available to them.
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