I hate fronds! You know, those large green spikey natural fibers that grow on palm trees. Yeah those, I hate them.
Last night I was on a nice stroll with Kamel, Wendy, Afro-bro, and Davey (translated: Katie, Linda, Josh, and David). We had just embarked on a journey to Albertsons in order to secure a movie with which to entertain ourselves. About 5 minutes into our trek I noticed several very appealing, freshly cut palm fronds lying on the side of the road. Naturally, I proceeded to challenge Afro-bro to a duel. We both chose a suitable weapons (eight foot long palm fronds) and proceeded to attack one another. Using my superior height, weight, width, length advantages I was able to parry all of my opponent's thrusts and volleys. This however proved to be my undoing. As I merrily gloated over my swordfighting skills I somehow managed to plunge my saber into the tender spot behind my right knee...deeply plunge my saber into the extremely tender spot behind my right knee. My initial jubilation abruptly turned into some pitiful writhing spasms. Afro-bro was delighted at this turn of events and began his own victory celebration above my now crippled body. My numerous attempts to regain an upright status were anything but sucessful and I have spent the past day trying to walk like a normal human being...fate has not allowed this. A visit to the physician confirmed that the puncture wound would not be fatal (alas, not even a glorious warrior's death) but painful and slow to heal. On that cheerful note, I am now going to retire for the evening (I am also officially retiring from frond fighting).
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