Okay, I wasn't even bragging about anything and my knee is completely fucked up. I walked about five miles today and yes, it is an old injury that becomes aggravated from time to time. I wish I could say that the initial injury was the result of something dangerous but it wasn't. It was from an excruciatingly and embarrassingly yuppie ice skating incident several years ago in Cherry Creek North. Outdoors. Christmas time. Way high on the dork-o-meter. I tore my left lateral miniscus. I may have butchered the spelling but you get the drift. For some reason they didn't recommend surgery at that time but I was supposed to do PT. Did I? NOOOOOOO. Because I'm pretty active it does flare up from time to time but it's usually triggered by something such as tripping over the dog or the like. This time it was NOTHING. This pisses me off. Right now, I pretty much cannot walk. Fortunately, I am on vacation and don't really need to do much walking per se. But it still pisses me off. And it hurts, damnit. I was supposed to go watch bull riding tonight. I'll look really cool sitting in one of those Little Amigo motor chairs. Maybe I'll put a flag on the back with a raccoon tail on it or something. That would look pretty tough, right? No? Damn. If I were on a ski vacation, I'd be just fine. I could sit cutely by the fire with my canned ham sized knee sufficiently covered up. Unfortunately, my Sonoran respite is not conducive to such. Again, damn. Okay, I've got to hobble my way over to the bathroom to try to make myself look so god damn awesome that nobody will notice that I'm a gimp. And at my age, that ain't easy. DAVE!!!!!! Get the spackling. And fast.