It Could Have Been Worse

I have a friend who was recently injured in a gym training accident. Her name is Chattanooga Ruffingsberg. I know, I thought it was made a up name too, but it isn’t. Anyway, she was running or jumping over cars or whatever it is that people do in the gym these days. All of a sudden, a muscle or tendon gave way in her leg. Possibly her achilles tendon, but the verdict is still out on that.

I saw a bunch of posts on facebook and wanted to say something, but realized I was going to be too wordy. Besides, with her leg in pain and she isn’t going anywhere. She could use something to read.

Chattanooga, it could have been worse. It could have been much, much worse. I knew a man who once pulled a muscle in his butt. At this juncture I would like to make it clear that it was his right butt cheek. No one can ever say “pulled a muscle in his butt,” without half the room getting all bugged eyed and asking in slack jawed amazement.

“You mean in his butt?”

“No.”

Moving on! This guy, Reingleschneider Humperdinck, was an exchange student from Europe. Lets just agree to disagree and generalize an entire continent. One day while he was out for a run and listening to the soundtrack to The Matrix, his life was changed forever. While running up a hill and blastin’ his glutes the muscles in his right butt cheek gave way. There was a snap and a pop that accompanied the unraveling of the right hemisphere of his derrière. Now he spends his days wearing loose fitting pants with a buttocks that resembles a tube sock with a bowling ball in it. Not a full size bowling ball, one of those nine pin balls.

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