Limpy IV - The Slow Voyage Home

I thought we were all said and done in the land of limpy, but alas, no. I have become increasingly frustrated with the lack of speed when it comes to hobbling around the place, and I may have, once or twice, put a bit too much pressure on my poor little toe and her busted phalanges. (I don't know why my little toe is female, but there you are. I think it may actually be a male toe, but because I'm camp, I call everything 'she,' regardless).

My doting and rather put-upon boyf did me the most delightful honour and purchased for me a walking stick. A cane! He was going to get a proper one from the chemist, one of those telescoping aluminium jobs, but he knows how much I weigh, and he also knows that nothing but wood can hold me up. (At this point, I am required by camp law to utter 'vicar,' 'matron,' or 'so to speak.')

I love it! He got a cheap $7 stick from one of those shops that sells everything you could never imagine. My mother used to call it 'the junk shop,' because they seemed to sell nothing but junk; she made frequent trips to it nonetheless, and often came out with half of my Christmas presents.

The cane has improved speed no end! I get up to quite a rate of knots burning up and down the corridor at the radio station. Sure, I wasn't that fast before I broke my toe, so my standards are pretty low. The only problem with hobbling around on a cane at work is the fact that I work with a bunch of joke-making wags. This morning, Andy told me I looked like Richard Attenborough in Jurassic Park. Never mind I had just saved Hamish's life with my lend of an asthma puffer!

Okay, I'm using a cane and whingeing about prescription medication. I'm officially an old man.

Comments

Poof night for Comedy Festival

hi Adam,
This is pathetic but I don't have your contact details - or for Scott Brennan - but we are trying to do a night of poofter (queer/gay male/pillowbiter/schwuler) comedy at Gasworks for the Comedy Festival next year - and have confirmed Anthony Menchetti - Wed 14 April at Gasworks Theatre - and would love to round that night off with you and Scott and any other suggestions you might have.
Let me know if this reaches you at crusader@gasworks.org.au

x Crusader

Your latest limpy blob:

You said "I don't know why my little toe is female..."
Uh hullo? If the rest the body is a lady then the toe is a lady. They're all ladies.
Then you reckoned "boyf did me the most delightful honour and purchased for me a walking stick."
I swear to god Mama, you are becoming a little bit more Frank Thring by the day!
And what else didjya say? Oh yes... "My mother used to call it 'the junk shop,' because they seemed to sell nothing but junk; she made frequent trips to it nonetheless,"
I say: she was ahead of her time then, your mum. She knew a handful of years down the track what a fun thing to do it would become. Good on your mother!
And about lending Hamish your puffer? Oh he is so gunna catch the full gay.
Hope that foot gets more betterer til it's up to bestest. xx L