publicity stunts! it's back, of course it is, it always is and it always will be
for as long as i am always lame!
wiggle your big toe.
today I had the honor of spending a large hunk of my after school time at the doctor's office. you know, i probably have a much lower blood pressure than they ever read there, because whenever they go to strap the band around my arm, i panic over telling myself to stay calm.
anyway, i was there because i have an ingrown nail on each of my big toes. my nurse was a black man who reminded me a lot of a more depressed bojangles, but probably only because i am ignorant. he picked out some nice purple equipment to be used on me.
when the doctor finally came in and injected me with Novocain, i had to stop myself from laughing as the needles entered my skin. it didn't tickle; it was just one of those things where you know it'd be totally inappropriate to laugh and so you can't help but do so.
i lay there, cankles in plain view, staring at my now-swollen toes.
wiggle your big toe.
as i said this out loud to myself, i believe i saw my mother raise her eyes from her copy of memoirs of a geisha to see what it was i was muttering this time, but she quickly abandoned the hope of rationalizing her daughter's actions.
with or without her understanding, i got those toes wiggling. the doctor soon came back in to cut at them, and apparently the Novocain had worn off on my right foot, because i could feel jabs of pain as he dug around deep into my bloody skin. i didn't want to tell him that i could feel this, because i didn't feel like having to be there any longer.
the moral of the story is: despite what environmentalists might claim, the sloth really isn’t so badly off.
wiggle your big toe.
today I had the honor of spending a large hunk of my after school time at the doctor's office. you know, i probably have a much lower blood pressure than they ever read there, because whenever they go to strap the band around my arm, i panic over telling myself to stay calm.
anyway, i was there because i have an ingrown nail on each of my big toes. my nurse was a black man who reminded me a lot of a more depressed bojangles, but probably only because i am ignorant. he picked out some nice purple equipment to be used on me.
when the doctor finally came in and injected me with Novocain, i had to stop myself from laughing as the needles entered my skin. it didn't tickle; it was just one of those things where you know it'd be totally inappropriate to laugh and so you can't help but do so.
i lay there, cankles in plain view, staring at my now-swollen toes.
wiggle your big toe.
as i said this out loud to myself, i believe i saw my mother raise her eyes from her copy of memoirs of a geisha to see what it was i was muttering this time, but she quickly abandoned the hope of rationalizing her daughter's actions.
with or without her understanding, i got those toes wiggling. the doctor soon came back in to cut at them, and apparently the Novocain had worn off on my right foot, because i could feel jabs of pain as he dug around deep into my bloody skin. i didn't want to tell him that i could feel this, because i didn't feel like having to be there any longer.
the moral of the story is: despite what environmentalists might claim, the sloth really isn’t so badly off.