Fark. I'm a bit in the wrapper. I injured my R knee a few weeks ago at work, some farktard sociopath wigged out when we told him, "Ya Dude, you're not goin' home, you just won yourself a 30 day, all expenses paid vacation at the mass Detox Center in Bridgewater. And No, it's not negotiable." So Shetheels suddenly turns back into a 130 # Olympic boxer. (No sheet, this farktard was a professional boxer.) By the time I threw my well nrth of 200# arse onto the pig pile shet heels had dusted three security guards.
So whats my farkin' point? I don't remember.
Oh ya, I ended up at the bottom of the pile of arseholes wrestling on the floor and I farked up my knee. I went to PTyesterday and my leg was killing me when I got home this morning so I hit the gin. (Percocet was an option but gin is an old friend.) And while my leg feels better I'm a bit under the weather as far as posting Utopia advice. So if you can hold on till this afternoon, I'll try then.
PTN