"One of the times I fell, I jammed my thumb," I said, on the ride home from cross-country skiing, "on nothing but snow."
"Do not tell anyone that," the driver said.
Oh, reeeally. Clearly he does not know me very well. My ability to jam my thumb on nothing but snow is exactly the sort of thing I tell the entire world about via the internet. Mostly because I find it hilarious.
I mean, I fell down into SNOW, and jammed my thumb, on SNOW. I even checked to see if there was anything else there, but no, it was just snow, with a thumb-shaped hole. (Well, an hand-shaped hole, with a thumb-shaped hole at the bottom.) There was still fully three feet of snow below that, too.
I have a special talent for accidental self-injury.
"Do not tell anyone that," the driver said.
Oh, reeeally. Clearly he does not know me very well. My ability to jam my thumb on nothing but snow is exactly the sort of thing I tell the entire world about via the internet. Mostly because I find it hilarious.
I mean, I fell down into SNOW, and jammed my thumb, on SNOW. I even checked to see if there was anything else there, but no, it was just snow, with a thumb-shaped hole. (Well, an hand-shaped hole, with a thumb-shaped hole at the bottom.) There was still fully three feet of snow below that, too.
I have a special talent for accidental self-injury.
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