Okay, about today's strip (done by Thomas K. Dye of Newhounds): As it suggests, I was knocked off my bike on Tuesday while out for a ride to keep my waist line down. Apparently the silly bitch that hit me wasn't expecting me to go right. I guess she thought I was sticking my arm out to the right for fun or something! Anyway I got clipped and was very rapidly going sideways along the road. Of course the following traffic where kind enough to steer around me! Well it's FAR too mach to ask for anyone to ACTALLY stop to see if I was all right isn't it! (God I fucking hate the human race!) Well I expected Joe Arsehole not to stop, but a Police car? Yeah, a cop car happily drove past while I was crawling up the grass verge to the crash barrier! No blue lights or speeding past or anything, they just blissfully pottered passed me!

Am I not important enough to warrant not stopping for? Am sure the police have far more pressing matters such as, say, their lunch, to waste you time stopping for someone who clearly in distress to see if they were okay! However the dumb bitch who knocked me off did stop. My ears where ringing and I was clearly in shock, so the old scrubber stopped to check to see if there were any holes in me, then gave me a bit of paper with "Mel" written on it with a phone number that didn't work when I tried it later. If I were more with it, I would have taken the cow's licence plate (and that of that fucking cop car) but my head was still spinning long after she had buggered off!

I checked the bike out, and luckily only the seat and a handle bar cover got torn up because I feel to the left. If I had feel to the right it would have mangled up the drive system which I only just finished replacing last month and got working sweetly! I would have been WELL pissed if that were busted, but luckily there's only £20 worth of damage to it. Mostly for a new seat as the holed one is one of those nice, comfy gel things.

Myself, I was too sure at first. Nothing seemed to hurt but I know that was misleading. The human body can do amazing things if it really has to. My body decided that I had to get out from the middle of a main road, and quickly did so as fast as it could while I was still thinking "What happened!". So, amazingly, I took the bike and rode down the minor injures unit at the doctors to be checked over (a sort of first base type thing, if I need hospital an ambulance from down the road would be called). By that time I was thinking more clearly, and also, started to hurt!

Unsurprisingly, my left leg took the most of the fall and my knee started hurting. After I was checked over to see if I was concussed or anything I had my knee bandaged up. Nothing seemed broken, just bruised! As I managed to get myself down there it was unlikely anything was, so I was told to go home put it on ice and take normal, off the shelf painkillers.

A dragged myself home and after dinner (it didn't stop me feeling hungry) I tried the phone number. Big fucking surprise, it didn't work! I rang the operator and they said it was disconnected in November. I ask for the name of the owner of the dead line (after explaining why) and they said to tell the police as only they can ask for the names of number owners.

I did, dragging my butt over the cop shop for all the good it would do. Reported the incident and handed over the bit of paper the bitch who knocked me down gave me. I don't expect much will happen but there you go.

Why the guest strip? Well like I said, my knee bloody hurts! It's fine as long as I don't use it or put too much weight on it. So while I'm sitting down like now, it's fine! I can walk around okay, even if it's like Long John Silver looking for his parrot! However, things like shitting down or getting up sting like a bitch. Going to the toilet is especially fun because there is little to hold onto to support myself, resulting in having to use my bad knee.

You might be asking, "If you can sit up okay, why couldn't you draw your strip?" Well that's simple: There isn't one flat surface in my room that isn't taken up with something and my rooms too small to handle an artist bench. So I have to sit cross-legged on my bed with a portable technical drawing board.

Did you spot the reason in that last sentence? No? Note the words "cross-legged" and have a good old think about it and come back when your IQ reaches double figures!

So I asked the Keenspot goons if they would fill in for me for a strip, and Thomas agreed because he's nice!

Go read his strip now or something!

Oh and by the looks of things, I should be able to do Monday's strip okay, but if you're a strip artist and want a go, hay, don't let that stop ya!