Gordon Ramsay is thankful to be alive, and he credits not only all the doctors, nurses, and staff at a Connecticut hospital who took care of him, but also the helmet which he says saved his life.
Over the Father’s Day weekend, the celebrity chef took to social media to share a scary story with his fans. Even a week after the accident, it still had Ramsay shaken up.
“This week I had a really bad accident while riding my bike in Connecticut,” he wrote. “I’m doing ok and did not break any bones or suffer any major injuries but I am a bit bruised up looking like a purple potato.”
Ramsay, who is an avid cycler, explained the importance of wearing a helmet no matter how “short the journey is” or the fact that helmets cost money because they’re “crucial.”
“I’m lucky to be standing here. I’m in pain. It’s been a brutal week, and I’m sort of getting through it,” Ramsay said as he lifted his shirt to reveal a massive bruise.The Hell’s Kitchen star also included before and after photos from his accident.
I’m so glad Gordon Ramsay is okay. Seeing his bruise and the aftermath of his helmet is an excellent reminder of the importance of making sure you always wear a helmet no matter what!
My Neighbor Kept Hanging out Her Panties Right in Front of My Son’s Window, So I Taught Her a Real Lesson
The underwear of my neighbor turned into the star of a suburban farce, stealing the show directly outside my son’s 8-year-old window. Jake’s innocent question about whether her thongs were slingshots made me realize that the “panty parade” needed to end and that it was time to teach her some prudence when doing the laundry.
Oh, suburbia: a place where everything seems perfect, the air filled with the scent of freshly cut grass, and life goes on without incident until someone changes everything. At that point, Lisa, our new neighbor, showed up. Everything had been rather quiet until wash day, when I saw something for the first time that had caught me off guard: a rainbow of her panties flapping outside Jake’s window like flags at a dubious parade.I nearly choked on my coffee one afternoon while folding Jake’s superhero underwear and happened to look out the window. And there they were, lacy and blazing pink and very much on show. Ever the inquisitive child, my son glanced over my shoulder and posed the dreaded query, “Mom, why is Mrs. Lisa wearing her underpants outside? And why are there strings on some of them? Are they for her hamster companion?I tried to explain between choked laughter and horrified astonishment. However, Jake’s imagination was running wild as he pondered whether Mrs. Lisa had aerodynamically engineered underpants and was indeed a superhero. He even expressed a desire to participate, proposing that his Captain America boxers be displayed next to her “crime-fighting gear.” Jake would get curious and Lisa’s laundry would flap in the breeze on a daily basis. But I realized it was time to terminate this farce when he offered to hang his own underpants next to hers. So, prepared to settle the dispute amicably, I marched over to her residence. Before I could say anything, Lisa answered the door and made it plain that she wasn’t going to break her laundry routine for anyone. She dismissed my worries with a laugh, advised me to “loosen up,” and even gave me style tips for my own clothes. Despite my frustration, I remained resolute and devised a cleverly trivial scheme. Using the brightest fabric I could find, I made the biggest, flashiest pair of granny panties ever that evening. When Lisa departed the following day, I hung my work of art directly in front of her window. When she came back, the sight of the enormous underwear with a flamingo print almost took her breath away. It was worth every stitch to watch her lose her cool trying to take down my practical joke. After a while, she gave in and agreed to shift her laundry somewhere less noticeable, all the while I silently celebrated my success. After that, Lisa’s laundry disappeared from our shared vision, and everything returned to normal. What about me? In the end, I had some flamingo-themed curtains that served as a constant reminder of the day I prevailed in the suburban laundry war.
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