my acetabelum is trying to murder me

Indirectly of course...which is the sneakiest type of murder

let's not kid ourselves

To make matters worse, the rest of my hip joint has been recruited for this dirty dirty plan. While I'm unsure the cause of this ill-will, I am certain that the result will be death precipitated by a hate spiral, or several.

Or maybe I'll just hurt to death. I mean, it's possible. It's also possible I'm being dramatic. But since I'm rarely dramatic, I can't help but expect the worst.

In everyday language, my hip socket sucks at its job. Specifically, the labrum, or the tissue that lines the socket and kindofsortof forms a suction that holds the head of the femur to my body, is a sissy. Stupid sissy labral tissue. It couldn't handle something-- gymnastics, water skiing, running, who flippin' knows--and now it's torn under the pressure.

Like I said, a sissy.

A deadly deadly sissy.

I'm tired.

And I want to GO RUNNING!

Instead, I have a bottle of wine and I'm stuck with some episode of Glee.

AGH! That's it. Please someone check on me tomorrow... wine and Glee can be murderous--murder without motive = un*trace*able.

As I already said: my acetabelum is trying to murder me.