Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father; prepare to die.
Yeah...so, Thursday into Friday morning, Hercules decided that some ghost of Thanksgiving past wanted him dead. Since he sleeps in-between Todd and I, his quickest path to make a panicked exit was via MY FACE. He missed gouging out my right eye by about 1/4 inch. I don't know if you can see the little puncture marks around my eye. But he did manage to give me a loverly slice on my right cheek. Awesome.
2 comments:
Herc is totally grounded now, isn't he? BAD HERC!
OUCH!
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