It always happens. There I was minding my own business, carrying some boxes into the garage. So my hands weren’t free. And when I bent over to deposit the boxes on the garage floor, the spring-loaded door bounced right back and smacked me on the side of the head. And, as they say, the air turned blue.

“Jesus C—–,” I snapped, and added, “F—ing door,” as if it could hear me and feel badly for having fulfilled its mechanical function. (more…)