This may be a short post today. Why? Because I have one arm.
When I was a sophomore in college I innocently went to a school banquet dressed as George Bush Sr. My date of course was the lovely and delightful Barb (that's what those of us who are close to her call her including some members of the Associated Press). In the moon room (a big boncy, air-cushioned, child proof room) I saw my friend Peter. Wanting to demonstrate the strength of our friendship I decided to tackle him. Bam! I hit the side of the entrance and was quickly rushed off to the ER where they thought I was pulling a practical joke on them. I was not.
The second time I was polka dancing. Thinking I knew more then the veterans I demonstrated a new sliding move. Off again to the ER.
Last night apparently I must have been having a nightmare. I woke up with my arm out of socket once again! Is it possible for my arm to actually come out in some place/activity that would actually seem harmful?
Wow! Needless to say there is more to all three stories but you try typing one hand and see how much detail you want to provide! :)