Unstuffed

A week ago today I hopped on my scoot and went to the store before my parents came over to cook out for Father's Day. I hadn't talked to anyone since the night before when we all left Larry's bike night. I just ran to the store. The only person that knew where I was going was my wife. About a block and a half from the house I got hit head on by a car that had veered into my lane. I never got knocked out and I remember every bit of the crash. After laying in the road for a few seconds I realized exactly how hurt I was and started to panic a little. I know it could have been much worse but I was still in pretty bad shape. I started to feel really alone laying there bleeding on the fucking scorching ass concrete. Within 30 seconds or so, one or 2 of my friends came running from what seemed like out of no where. Then within about 4 or 5 minutes of me bouncing off the window of that car there were 10 or 12 of my friends huddled around me keeping me calm, keeping Erin calm, talking to the cops and the EMT's or literally holding a towel over my leg to keep me from freaking out about the huge section of my calf that had just been ripped off. As scary as it was, I totally started to calm down. I didn't realize it until later but it was because I knew (probably subconsciously at least) that so many of my bros had dropped what they were doing to quite literally run to my aid. Over the next few days so many of my brothers in the Haints and people I can truly call my friends came to see me in the hospital or called or texted. Even if it was just to check on me and tell dick jokes or bring me a magazine or book, I've honestly never felt so loved by so many people. I consider myself one of the lucky few who can say that I have more than two real friends. I don't know what I've done so right in my life to have met the group of people I call my friends, but I want everyone to know how much it means to me. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Anyway, enough of the gay shit. Here are some gnarly photos of my leg.