In (less than) dramatic fashion, I broke my big toe last Friday night. It was a good night: music, friends, and (yep, you’ll see a theme in this post) alcohol. Fueled by the freedom of Friday, and with the audacious boldness that only the truly lit possess, I went flailing into the street, onwards and upwards to the 4am bars—you know, the places that smell like beer and urine, that have wood-paneled walls, and that allow their bartenders to roll their eyes at patrons because, well, we deserve it. Life was, in a nutshell, good.
Imagine my surprise when I woke up on Saturday with foot shaped more like Michigan than Florida and the keen sense that purple is an inappropriate color for skin. Unrelentingly, I walked on it until Tuesday, at which point, somewhere between hobbling up a flight of stairs and being outrun on the sidewalk by a (walking) squirrel, I decided to get x-rays. R.I.P. one ligament and the union between my big toe and foot. Stress fracture. Life was, in a nutshell, not nearly as good.
However, while wanderlisting on possible topics for this post, I gained insight from all of you on just how bad broken bones can be. I also gained more insight on the hazards of alcohol than any D.A.R.E. campaign-esque lecture could ever instill. Without remorse, and without cringing, here are the top broken bones:
1. Our winner this week involves the most discreet of broken bones: the baby toe. While reports on this particular friend’s injury include gaping holes (i.e., no one being sober enough to know or lucidly articulate what happened), the incident occurred during a “man shower.” You want to know what a “man shower” is? No, it’s not some homoerotic product of my REM sleep. Rather it is a baby shower thrown by men for their friend when he is approaching daddy-hood. Apparently, in preparation for a baby, men get together to drink and celebrate before the “end of freedom.” …and all along I thought men called this process “life.”
2. As if I need another reason not to exercise. While riding her bike in the provencal south of France, a friend daintily careened over a fence, breaking two ribs Donovan McNabb style. (There’s also probably a McRib joke in here somewhere, but I haven’t come up with it.) Differing from her NFL counterpart, however, this friend’s ample boobs popped out of her very ripped shirt, at which point a group of boys on vespas honked as they rode past. Ah, tres bien, monsieurs!
3. Karaoke and dancing, dancing and karaoke. Good things happen in these situations. Great things happen. Rarely does something negative occur from either of these time-honored traditions. Which is why this particular story is such a gem: a friend was dancing to Madonna (the song “Falling” perhaps?) in a dive bar when she slipped on a beer bottle. One broken ankle later, and she still can’t hear “Lucky Star” without breaking into hives. …Let me “Express Myself”: alcohol and healthy bones do not mix.
4. I promised you karaoke, and here it is. As a college senior I was singing “Free Bird” at a karaoke bar while drinking a concoction called a Monkeyboy (in a flavor known as Tidy-Bowl, no less) when I decided to commune with my adoring public (who was shouting “shut up” and wondering what special brand of asshole picks a seven minute song to sing). I stepped onto the speaker, which fell over, ripped from the wall, and sent me onto the unsanitary floor. I technically did not break anything, but, I did chip a tooth and have blood gush out my nose. That’s the downside. On the upside, the bartender gave me free shots and a rag to stop the bleeding.
5. Lots of honorable mentions here, but in the realm of oddity, I’ve picked the following. The rare case of the bent—not broken—arm. Ask me how one “bends” an arm bone. My answer: at the elbow? Apparently not…
And with that, I check off another list from my blog. Stay tuned.
theideallist 
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