Broke my ankle in two places last night after shoveling my father's front sidewalk. After I was done, I took the driveway to the back, since the snow was packed. Unfortunately, it was also hiding a sheet of ice beneath it. My right foot twisted around and I was down.
I'm writing now with my leg in a wrapped up temporary splint from the hospital until I can see an orthopedic guy tomorrow.
This kind of puts the Kibosh on my escape plans, either to New Orleans or LA. New Orleans regulations require that, to get a tour guide license, you must have lived in the metro area for a least six months. LA seems to be the only city where they may be hiring, plus the rent is relatively cheap if you live away from either the Westside (W. Hollywood, Beverly Hills, Santa Monica, Brentwood, the UCLA area etc.) or the beach, or hip areas like Silverlake).
Plus, it would be kind of funny to live in the San Fernando Valley, since so many movies and TV shows are filmed there. Its also known as "Porn Valley," since almost all domestic pornography is produced there. I'm too fat to be lured into gay porn, and too small where it counts to replace Ron Jeremy.
In fact, I don't think I'd be allowed in Southern California at all at my weight. They stop you mid-flight and demand that you parachute down into the Midwest where your kind belong.
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1 comment:
From now on, I'm going to say that I broke my ankle when I was skiing one legged at Chamonix.
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