Bullshit

I'm calling bullshit with two hands, two feet, four duck pattes, and sixteen dog legs, because Bill called me today to tell me that Don with the Brick Driveway broke his finger on the bike ride and Pat, the firefighter and the only other non-retired member of the bike boyfriends, called 911 because he was afraid Don with the Brick Driveway would faint and the firemen showed up on the dirt road in the middle of the fucking desert. I said, "Bullshit! Why couldn't one of you get hurt when I was there to see the hot firefighters! Nobody thinks about me!!" Bill said it was because he was afraid I would tell him to break my fingers just so I could get some firefighter attention. Maybe. Maybe it might have been worth it.