If I Should Fall From Grace...

Above, you'll see a picture taken at the Pogues concert Saturday night, St. Patrick's Day, at the the Roseland Ballroon in New York City. You'll see lead singer Shane MacGowan in the middle there, resplendant in his wheelchair. He fell down on stage in Boston the week before, tearing ligaments in his knee. Also great in this picture, you can see on the far right, whistle player Spider Stacy with his instrument on this particular tune, a metal beer tray. This is played by bashing it over your head in time to the music. Pretty cool.

Spirits were high this night, with my good friend CJ and I doing the Irish thing, enjoyed (quite) a few cocktails. All was well with the world. At the we had befriended a guy from Ireland and a woman from Sweden, whom we drank many more drinks with at the bar, before heading over to BB King's to meet up with some friends of his. On my way down the stairs, I fell, as the song goes, "arse over tit" and quite squarely landed on my ass.

I got right back up, no worse for wear and tear seemingly. (Although, truth be told, you probably could have shot me and I wouldn't have felt it at this point). We hung out watching the U2 tribute band "The Unforgettable Fire", and I got to know CJ's friend Samantha a little bit. I was amused by the presence of Hi Pitch Eric and Richard Christy from the Howard Stern Show. CJ's friends were kind enough to give us a ride home to Jersey City (just through the Lincoln Tunnel). I crashed on the couch and woke up, um, let's say, in serious pain.

It felt worse and worse as the day went on, and the long drive/sit from Jersey to Providence was pretty excruciating. Thank God for Sirius for getting me through that. Today I laid low, but upon arriving at work this afternoon, it was too much. I headed over to the walk in clinic around the corner and found, to my surprise, I didn't break my tailbone, but instead slightly herniated a disc, and tore a ligament, plus lots of bruising. Yeay. I wish it was slightly higher or lower, so I could roll around in a wheelchair like Shane or Vince McMahon circa 1998. That would be cool. Unfortunately, to sit is very painful.

They gave me vicodin and ibprofen. I haven't busted into those yet, but I've got another 1 1/2 hours of work to get through. I was given a 5 day no work order from the doctor, but I'll be coming in this week anyway. I can't see just screwing around for a whole week with nothing to do.

So yeah, I lived up to the proud irish tradition of drink, music, broads, and injuries. And the Auld Triangle went jingle-fucking-jangle all along the fucking banks of the fucking Royal Canal.