Like this:

Well, it finally happened, one of these towers of books fell on me. Not a stack of paperbacks or magazines, either. No, not with my awesome luck. No, it was a pile of text books that came crashing down.
For those of you who don’t remember how heavy a text book is, let me refresh your memory. You can bludgeon somebody with one of them. Five of them will actually cause the shelf of a book case to flex by almost an inch. I had 10 of them land on my foot and shin, because I wasn’t fast enough to get all of me out of the way.
To be fair, it was my fault, and I deserved to have them fall on me because I was stupid enough to add them to the top of a stack that was already at chest height. Shameful to have that many books piled up on my floor, but I have nowhere else for them to go. I have no more wall space, and I am not going to cover my entire floor with little piles of books.
Back to the story: So, these textbooks land on my left foot and what do I do? Do I immediately sit down and check for fractures? NO. I proceed to add another layer of stupidity to this farce by cursing wildly and kicking the offending books, with the foot that just got squashed. See how brilliant I am?
The top of my foot is now turning stunning shades of purple, and my big toe is swelling like a party balloon. I am Icing it and praying that nothing is broken. I have a busy summer of goofing off planned, and being sidelined with a busted foot would drive me insane.

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