Ibuprofen, vodka, and maybe a little smoke might settle this shoulder down. I bought some Motrin rub in cream, but when I got home it said don't use it on your shoulder. Daniel thought because of it's proximity to the heart, and what's wrong with that, it hurts too! He talked me down and I'll take it back to Kroger.

Speaking of talking me down, he sure failed last night, or maybe he urged me on. I knew early on in the day that it was going to be one of those days. I ended up calling my favorite grand-daughter Shelby and having a speaker phone chat with Daniel included.

They both concurred that I wasn't going to remember it today, and what can I say, ok, you were right!

The last time I got that sloshed was a week ago Saturday night when Shelby and I tore up Broadway in downtown Nashville, then played cards and drank into the night after an Uber back to our condo. I remember most of that night and btw Elizabeth, it was two flights of stairs I fell down, not just two steps.

If I'm going to do it, I do it right. There were two indentations in the dry wall at the bottom of the first flight, and I remember banging into the entrance door at the bottom of the second. It's a good thing the door was closed, otherwise I would have rolled out into the street, bloody and naked.

I'm beginning to think that I should slow it down at 77, but you have to be motivated to do that, and my giveafuck is broken. There's a lot of people my age who would love to be living the life I have, and to have the body to survive shit that would put most people down.

Now if I could just get laid, one more time...

Here's some shots from Shelby's phone:

Wooden steps, omfg, how did I survive this?

The big hole was probably my shoulder! Daniel said if you're going to be dumb, you got to be tough!