I bit my tongue yesterday. Was playing basketball and got knocked in the mouth and it caused me to bite down on my tongue. Hard. It bled a lot. I toughed it out and kept playing, though. I'm amazing. I think a lesser man would have quit, but whatever. I don't have time to think about what lesser men would or would not do.

Regardless, it was hard to eat or drink anything for the rest of the day. And this morning it's still sore. There's like a half-inch wide bite mark on the side of my tongue right now. Yet here I am, blogging. Do they give Nobel prizes for this sort of thing? I think they should. I mean, I'm typing right now even though I can barely eat this plate of scrambled eggs. And I love scrambled eggs. But every time an egg part hits the hole in my tongue it makes me cry.

For the record, that doesn't make me any less of a man. No, if I were less of man the egg hitting my wounded tongue would make me not only cry, but also scream for my mother. I have not screamed for my mother once.

Again: me=amazing.

Send all your virtual get well cards to cmonks@youramazing.com.

This post is dedicated to a brand new, controversial video of me playing video games with my sons.