A few days ago, Mr. Floozy ruptured his achilles tendon. And by ruptured, I mean severed. Like, one half was over here and the other half over there. Thankfully, Dr. Bacon (I swear that is his name) sewed him back together. But now Mr. Floozy is in a cast for weeks, months, decades! Poor Mr. Floozy will never fulfill his lifetime dream of becoming a flamboyantly gay Olympic figure skater. So now that my husband has a gimp leg, I am reminded of this quote:
You had better not try and steal my candy bar, Mr. Floozy, or I am taking you down!