Consider yourself warned.

After Thanksgving (nope, I didn't pull out my camera once), OP and the Merrill guys took off to Hyder for some fun riding and general male bonding.

Yep, I just said "male bonding".

Orrin was excited to break in his new $500 dirtbike (which I endearingly call Sister Wife).

I don't have a picture of the entire bike, but here's the motor (I just simply don't care enough to take a picture of the dumb thing):

So out he headed.  Around 3 o'clock I called my dear hubby to see how everything was going.

"We're getting ready to leave," he told me.

That's weird, I thought.  Usually they ride until there's no light left.

When they finally rolled in, OP came limping into the house with a hospital bracelet on.  Apparently he was in the hospital when I called and didn't see any reason to make me worry when it wasn't that big of a deal.

That big of a deal?  That big of a deal?!

Orrin was riding a wheelie at 60 mph (because he's stupid, that's why), when the power band kicked in and knocked him onto his butt.  He then flipped and slammed his knee.  And this happened.

Would you care for a closer look?

But really, it was no big deal.

*That last statement was dripping with sarcasm and I hope that someday they will invent a sarcastic typeface*

Thirty-eight stitches later and we have this:

Ew.  Ew.  Ew.  I can barely help him change his bandages without passing out (yep, I am a wuss when it comes to blood and wounds).

Did I mention that my bro-in-law Chris took care of him?

Oh, hey Chris.  Glad everyone found out about his accident before me.  *This is another time that a sarcastic typeface would be handy*

Well- all's well that ends well, I guess.  OP is now being forced to sit on the couch and try not to move his leg for ten days, which is difficult seeing as how his behind is all bruised from the fall.

And no, I didn't take a picture of that to share with you.