Merely a Flesh Wound

I thought this might be a top ten list, but my brain doesn't feel organized enough to accomplish such a linear task. A disorganized, uninfluenced by alcohol brain even though it is just past eleven on a Friday night. Is there anyone reading who doesn't know that I got seriously whacked in the head twelve days ago? Well, doubt you not that a facial cut bleeds like the proverbial stuck pig. They glued my forehead back together, yes indeed, taped and glued! I know it probably looked strange, but for a few days I held my forehead when I sneezed, fearing a blowout. They said the bandage would sort of wear off, that the glue would break down and I should just let it fall off on its own. I had nightmarish musings about pulling it off too early resulting in me flying about the room like a deflating balloon, only to end up in a far corner of the room, leaving nothing but a damp little rag. After three days of glue boogers in my hair, I couldn't stand it any more! Just moments ago I encouraged the process along and soon a sticky, gooey, tapelike nasty thing fell off into the bathroom sink. Leaving me with a nearly two centimeter red vertical line on the left side of my forehead. The swelling is all gone and the bruising has been reduced to just a couple of bluish spots beneath my eyes. I still am amazed as well as grateful that my injuries were minimal. Equally remarkable are the healing properties of the body. And I'm wondering if getting whacked in the head could possibly explain away any of my random, oddball behaviors. You know, those endearing quirks that are hallmarks of my personality. Having one's monkeys jostled about could have all sorts of interesting results. Leaving me to paraphrase my dear sister Pam when I observe inappropriate behavior in others. Listen, buddy, I got whacked in the head with a 4 x 6 inch steel plate attached to a steel cable and a really big spring! What's your excuse?