Ludicrous gibs.

Since the events of this weekend (which I may describe in better detail at a later date) have left me with a bump on my head and a hole in my lip, I find myself very tired and, although hungry, quite unwilling to eat anything that would irritate said hole (which is basically everything ever). Nonetheless, my dear mother, who has no knowledge of the injuries I've sustained (and, God willing, shall never have knowledge of them), has lovingly cooked one of my favorite stews for dinner. This would be the one that has the garbanzo beans, cabbage, potatoes, and occasional plantains thrown in (if she's feeling spry). My mission now is to go out to the kitchen and eat dinner with the family, and not have my Mom, who will be sitting five feet away from me, notice me gingerly spooning hot liquid and food into the good side of my mouth. Because, if she does notice my pain, or the huge knot on my head, or the chunk missing from my face, there will indeed be hell to pay. And the last time I checked, they were not amused when I tried to pay with I.O.U.s.

Wish me luck.