I'm typing like a retarded spider monkey at the moment because I managed to jam three of my fingers in the ranch slider door tonight.

It hurt like something that would hurt real bad and make you stop and go, damn that hurt… real bad.

I think I came THIS CLOSE to severing my fingers. And that would have been no good for being able to make the necessary homey-gangster hand signals required to earn respect on the streets these days. Or flipping people off.

Plus, it was my right hand, and I’m not sure how useful it would have been, missing three of its lovely daughters…

It hurt so much I had to lie down afterwards.

I nearly passed out.

And this is from a guy who once had veins hanging out of his leg following impalement.

My daughter was pretty worried when I was rolling around on the floor, grasping my hand with the hand that wasn’t hurting Real Bad.

She also wanted to know the meaning of all those words I was uttering.

OK, so it’s not as bad as my beauty queen friend who ran through a ranch slider door once and severed her nose, but I have some nasty blood bruising under my fingernails and, shut up, I’m not a drama king.

My littlest brother had all the fingers on his right hand severed when he was young.

My other brother shut the door on them.
And then kept pushing.
There was a sickening crunch. The sort of sound that fingers make when someone jams them in a door and keeps pushing.

I had to bust the door open.

The doctors were able to reattach his fingers.

And now he can write with both hands.

So, every silver lining and all that…

My littlest brother got the other brother back some time later by kicking him so hard in the nuts that he had to go to hospital where a doctor had to gently coax out the missing testicle, which had been forced deep inside him.

He thought he was infertile after that.

And that’s the story of how my other brother ended up with a kid following a one-night-stand…

Did I mention that my fingers are sore…?