It’s just a scratch.

I sit here before you in a post-operative glow, enjoying that certain je ne sais quoi of oxycodone sweats, and wondering when I’ll be able to navigate stairs.

So, for those of you not keeping score, in 2015 I innocently stepped off my mountain bike, and tore everything in my right knee.

Then, one year ago when in the midst of a simple backside curb grind, I got sloppy, my right (back) foot stuck, and I did another lateral hyper extension, resulting in repeated partial tears of both my ACL and MCL.

So, after a few orthopedic consultations, on the recommendation of my pal Sonya I opted to go well out of town and visit with a fella she worked with a year earlier. After taking a look at a CT scan of my knee, this doc concluded that I needed to fill two oversized holes in my bones (tibia and femur) where the ACL graft was stitched in before, so that eventually we could drill new holes, and do a brand new graft.

So that’s where we sit currently. I have brand new cadaver bone in my holes (giggity) and and patiently waiting to be able to frolic once again.

Because the grind never stops, I was tickled and dismayed to see that on the evening of my surgery, the entire order of Hessian Obsession shirts landed;

The post office was closed by the time I got back to town, so I asked Poo Shoe Joe if he would mind grabbing them for me just this past weekend, which he tried, but apparently the post office is closed not just on Sunday, but over the entirety of Jesus Rabbit Weekend as well. You can’t say I haven’t been trying.

Anyway, in conclusion of this big, big business news, I finally got my hands on them, and despite the fact that I’m in complete physical disarray, the grind never stops, and between bouts of laying on the floor with an ice pack on my leg, I’ve done my very best to get cracking on packing orders, and finally getting them out of the door;


Truth be told, Poo Shoe Joe’s wife Kirsten came through and did most of the work because I’m useless.

She truly is the Jody to my Colt.

So keep your eyes peeled, and if you don’t see your goods within a week or so, give me a shout and when I’m done whimpering, I’ll track it down or you.

Now, before the next wave of opioid infused fog laps over the top of my head, it’s my sworn duty to give a little push to the very newest episode of Revolting;

Listen to it or don’t.

I likely will, because as long as I’m trapped in this confounded reality I’m the most attentive audience that I’ll ever be.