Out of the primal goop: AN DOOF ASS!!!

As should be painfully obvious An Doof Ass has gone missing in action. This is not uncommon. Two years ago he wandered off drunk into the catacombs of our elite east coast prep school and was not seen for several weeks. Everyone hoped for the best, but he eventually turned up alive and seemingly no worse for wear. This morning however it came to my attention that his current absence is no laughing matter. For it seems he has recently broken both his hips and is in the hospital with little hope of making a full recovery. The details of how he was injured are not important. Who reading this hasn’t almost broken both their hips hundreds of times over doing something reckless? Personally, I think it would be a pointless endevour to go over the minute details of the events that led to his crippling. Because, as we all know, hindsight is 20/20.

Okay fine. Maybe he had had too many sugary snacks that day. Maybe his desire to impress college sophomores was a bit misguided and creepy. And maybe if he hadn’t bragged about his penchants of “feats of strength” things would have turned out differently. What if he hadn’t demanded to go to that party in a toga? What if he hadn’t shown up already wasted on sherry and cheap cigars. What if that chubs hadn’t encouraged him to perform “massive keg stands.” What if he hadn’t demanded to do prove his bravery by doing his keg stands at the top of the stairs. What if he hadn’t tripped on his toga after finishing his third one. What if he hadn’t grabbed the keg hose for support on his way down the stairs. What if that keg hadn’t landed on top of him before bouncing off and maiming three innocent designated drivers who where discussing tithing over Ginger beers.

But as An Doof Ass now knows all to well: multiple shattered bones and lawsuits can’t be healed with “what ifs.” No. It takes screws and chisels and files and lawyers. And it takes money.

Most perhaps all would say he deserved it. He was out of control that fateful Wednesday morning at 11 am. He was too drunk on the power and prestige that comes with being a published author. But not me. Well, maybe me, I still haven’t decided yet.