Well, the short version is, I fucked up. Specifically, I fucked up the throttle application/clutch release ratio.
I was travelling southbound on a two lane road, about to make a left turn onto another, smaller two lane road (into the residential area in which I, Shesaid, Pinkfoot, and my own as-of-yet-unnamed DR reside), the north/southbound road is larger, and has no stop sign, so I was slowing, and planning on stopping before making my left turn. Just about the time I get to where I need to be, all the northbound traffic cleared, so I can just make the turn, no stopping required. I was in second, and thought I could cruise right on through. But I was wrong, I stalled the bike. So now I'm in the middle of the northbound lane, stopped. But it's cool. There's no oncoming traffic, I just look like a fool. I mutter something or other, and start the bike.
Now here's where something went wrong. You'd think that this would be a simple case of me having to show Pinkfoot/onlookers/the world that I know what I'm doing, I'm not some idiot noob that can't ride a bike, so I'd fire the bike up and take off like a bat out of hell, and show them. Show them all... But I haven't been 22 for quite some time now (in fact, I'm closer to idiot noob than I am to 22), so I opted instead to take a breath, and pull away just the same as I would at any other time.
I fucked it up.
Not quite sure exactly the order, but Pinkfoot began to rear up (I'm thinking once this began that my backwards sliding caused me to apply even more throttle, though I may be wrong about that...), I went off the back and on to my butt, Pinkfoot stood all the way up on her haunches and pranced forward a couple of yards, then came back down, wobbled, and lay down on her left side.
I got up, stood Pinkfoot up, gathered a few strewn plastic bits, tried to assure a helpful onlooker that I was fine and required no medical attention. I briefly massaged my backside, taking careful note to make sure my tail was tucked firmly between my legs, and walked ourselves home.