back from the dead (well, sort of)

my theory, i am pleased to say, now has concrete proof – at any time, only two people regularly read my blog.

since both people expressed concern at the accident, i felt i should do something to reassure them that i am still alive and well. the accident was minor – the casualties included two busted tires and a broken axle, but otherwise everyone survived. however, the major point of physical impact for me was my nose, which is now even more bent out of shape than it was previously. it’s one of the hazards of having a large nose – i guess that the largest parts of human bodies are hurt the most often. which explains quite well why my nose and my big toes are in constant pain.

speaking of large body parts getting hurt…

i have come to the conclusion that i will no longer be able to reproduce. the reason behind this is not the lack of a female partner to perform the act with – which, in itself, seems to be a large problem in my life currently – but rather that my valued progeny-producing organs have received much abuse over the past few weeks, due to riding in rickshaws.

if you have never ridden in a rickshaw, consider yourself lucky. a rickshaw is a device developed by the devil himself to deny unsuspecting fools like myself the pleasure of hearing the pitter-patter of little feet in the hallways. rickshaws, particularly those in this corner of the earth, are fundamentally evil for two reasons: first, the seats are harder than rocks to sit on, and second, the people who pilot these infernal devices are descendants of the devil himself. no matter how much i pray or beg these people to drive carefully, they still manage to hit every single pothole on the road, and even some of the road, with the end result being me bouncing up and down on the seat like a jack-in-the-box. now, as i have mentioned before, these seats are harder than rocks, and as a result of these bouncing action, i end up landing very hard on the seat, at great cost to my testicles. if you want to find out what this feels like, take a hammer and bring it down hard on your left pinky. then multiply the pain by about 52.35, and try and translocate it to your nether regions.

therefore, although i have already decided the names of my kids – reeham for a girl, which means “little light rain”, and rahib for a boy, which means “meditative” – i’m afraid that there aren’t going to be any reehams or rahibs any time in the future. damn you, balls.

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