Da-da's Fine Sinister Hand

Well, you really did it this time. You made Da-da write so much between this blog and his third book that his right carpal tunnel has been sliced clean off by Dr. Joe Nengele (Da-da's former Nazi physician). Don't you Da-da readers feel terrible, all three of you? Luckily, Da-da's South Paw isn't so bad, which leaves him writing sinestre ("sinister" means left-handed in Latin, Archimedes), composing this incredibly elegant prose at a top speed of eight WPM. Not bad for a guy with a nerveless Central Nervous System...

Wait. That's right. Da-da forgot: he can't be hurt. He has no nerves left, you see; they've long since been burned out by tantrums and shrieking and no sleep -- Other People's Tantrums (OPT), not his own. Da-da only tantrums at certain relief pitchers and football coaches who can't manage the clock.

Ow, time for more meds and ice. Da-da should be the poster boy for either Advil, or LAMENESS.

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