May. 11, 2014 - 5:02 p.m.

Tommy John and me.

Well, I gave it my best shot. But after one final, desperate bid to stave off the inevitable...the inevitable turned out to be inevitable. I guess that's why it's called that. I go in for elbow reconstruction surgery later this week.

Shit. All these weeks of not writing, not riding, and less RedTubing booted me nothing at all. Just goes to show you: motivational posters lie. Hope, perseverance, positive attitude? None are a match for biology.

Sorry to all the people I usually follow here at D-Land. I've read a lot of your stuff over the past few weeks, but I haven't left notes. And of course, my own little Festival-o-Lies here has gone untended as well. For all the good the abstinence has done me though, I might as well have been blogging 24/7. Nuts.

Anyhow, in a few days I'll be in a full right-side-immobilizing cast for 6 weeks. After that, unknown weeks of physical therapy. I may try to eke out a few sentences lefty-only during that time, but if I do I can't promise any capital letters or punctuation. Or for that matter, sense, considering how I've reacted to Percoset in the past. My apologies in advance.

So that's the update from DangerHouse. I may try to bang out an actual entry or two before I get sliced open like a Christmas ham, since what the hell. If I shred anything, they're going in there anyway this Friday to fix it. Might as well make them earn their money.

Be well, kids. I'll see ya on the other side.

.

.