I am a Drama Queen and I don't care who knows it

I am an idiot.  It's been a long time since I last seriously injured myself in Korea, so apparently I was due.  I must have committed some karmic faux pas in the last few weeks to justify the truly retarded accident that ensued Friday night.  

I will spare you the story, as it's dumb and uneventful.  And I know it's dumb 'cause when I told Mr. ER Doc the story, he gave me the "WTF?" look, translated to his Doogie lookalike, then had a good laugh with the other wackos unlucky enough to find themselves in an ER.  The Korean Andy Warhol sitting next to me had an especially hearty chuckle.  Screw you.  Suffice it so say that Castle Praha will not be welcoming me with open arms, that is if I manage to show my face there again.  Bartenders and servers tend to frown upon gushing open wounds and wretching in front of the other customers, as it tends to make them queasy. 

Anyway, I spent 3 1/2 hours in a downtown Seoul ER (for those of you counting, that's 2 in Korea, 3 total in foreign countries), received countless shots, 4 or 5 stitches, suffered a total of 3 panic attacks and only had 2 Korean Doogie Howsers.  And I'm all right.  Well, really I'm all LEFT, but whatever.  

Mmm, dried blood.  My hand looks like the Goodyear Blimp.

Oh, and I've got some serious newfound respect for Sunny, Erica and Amanda.  The next round (or five) is on me.