Yo, the lack of wind puts us all at risk because instead of kiting, the wives have us bustin’ ass at the house more than ever.

I macked out my right Achilles yesterday while trying to pull a fricken nail out of some quarter-round on a wood floor that I recently installed in the master bedroom (mad skillz). I was leaning back, with my feet on the quarter-round and pulling like hell on my industrial hammer, when something gave and I jammed the claw-end of the hammer into my leg like a rotisserie fork going on a piece of chicken. It was only a flesh wound, so I licked the blood off of the hammer (that’s flavor to a High Life man), stuck the huge flap of skin back in place with a staple gun, and got back to work.

Still, I could have been killed, especially if I had been using a demolition saw to remove the nail. So what I am trying to say is be careful and wear a helmet if your wife has you slaving around the house while the wind is dead.