About 6-7 weeks ago I had surgery on my left knee to remove a piece of metal about the size of a dime that had been in there since 3/9/69. There was a piece of shrapnel that was pulled out of the side of my left knee and somehow a small piece obviously broke off and managed to stay "somewhere" in my knee for over 50+ years. The doctors are still trying to figure out how that could be in a place as small as the knee area and not cause me any problems for so long.
Being as I couldn't walk for 6+ weeks, I wrote a book about my life. When i was finished, it was 645 pages. I obviously had to edit that down. I have it down to being a dissertation on how not to write a book. There was a 30 page chapter on the benefits of TP being over rather than under (with footnotes by Pee Wee Herman) and why we actually do play drums ( It appears that the ability to hit something that can't hit back probably has saved the life of numerous morons that seem to always be on the road when I have somewhere to be).
There is a chapter on how to get out of a marriage without the wife knowing for 6 months to a year. That requires the ability to use stealth on a continuing basis but it doesn't explain the reason 1 says "I Do" and realizes you made a mistake on the honeymoon night.
I have always liked fast cars and and fast women. If I would have changed 1 of them to slow, I would have a lot more money in the bank and wouldn't have had to sleep on my stomach for weeks on end.
So after I figured out that I could edit said book by cutting out 4 out of every 5 pages, I now have it down to being a pamphlet of somewhere around 30 pages which, I'm sure, Tom will edit down to a 2 sentence post.
C'est la vie!!!
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