Curse You, Jacknobber!

I have been mulling around the idea of crackin' wise about a product I found on the Origins website; it's called the Jacknobber. 

Behold the Great and Powerful Jacknobber

It's a "stress relieving tool" they sell for eleven bucks, and, while it probably does a heckuva job at working the knots out of one's aching muscles, its porn star name and number of "heads" in various sizes just make it all look super-kinky to me. I was all set to blog about it and make a bunch of sophomoric references to gettin' my nobber jacked and stuff like that, but then this happened ...

I was at my parents' house for my daughter's birthday party. We were all getting ready to go out sledding, and I was walking down the stairs in my snowpants. (Yes, I am an adult woman and have snowpants. I am also insulted by your snickering.) Anyhow, said snowpants are longer than normal pants and made of slippery material. Since I tend to be all cool and gazelle-like as I move through this world, I managed to step on the back of my pant leg, slip, and do a big Cartoon Network-style WHAMMO in the front entry. 

I have a bad arm and shoulder to begin with (a LONG story, which most of you know already...), so, of course, I take the brunt of the fall with that hand and arm. It was that instant sort of pain where you're not completely sure that what just happened really did happen but suddenly feel an urgent need to throw up. 

Pain dissipates into dull ache. Swelling ensues. Muscles tighten up on entire left side of body. Arrangements for substitute for next day are made. 

So, as I sit here with my muscles knotted and sore, I find myself wishing that I had one of those Jacknobber deals to help me out. I believe that's called irony. Or poetic justice. Or something like that.