Bare Knuckle Brawler

I'm looking down at my hands right now, and they're a complete and utter mess. Mostly because I'm a klutz. Like Daphne, from Scooby Doo. Give me something hot to handle (except my ass. That's hotness that I can handle) and I'll show you a burn waiting to happen. Something sharp? Cuts a-plenty.

I've given up wishing for an incident-free life, as I know I'd be more likely to find out that I was (a) adopted, and (b) a princess. And since I look so much that the pharmacist that we share, who has never seen us together, felt it necessary to marvel over the resemblance last month.

I will always be accident prone. And I will always, eventually, make my way over here to injury-blog.

I reckon this serves as a warning, as slipping on ice weather is about to start. Let the pain begin!