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May 26, 2007

So Nasty, You Will Vomit

For those of you who are the least bit squeamish, stop now. NOW. I am NOT KIDDING. Remember that joke, "what's gross?" (The answer is something about dead babies or tampons or something) and then you say "What's grosser than gross?" (The answer is something equally disgusting in the same vein, or, actually, slightly more disgusting, if you're doing it right).

Well, to prepare you for the ultimate grossness, I'm going to start you with lighter, not quite as gross things. So that if you hit your limit on one of the lessers, you can stop and say you've had enough.

So -
What's gross?

Matthew removing 20 splinters and finding the time to do a little sewing on the side.


What's grosser than that?

Roji picking so many fish two summers ago that all of his fingernails eventually fell off, to be reborn as ugly little nubs.

Okay, here's the final punch line:
What's even grosser than that?

THIS.

Some of the blisters and leathery pus-oozing sores covering my left leg due to a run-in with poison ivy or poison oak or poison leaf-that-will-turn-you-into-a-burn-victim plant. It is DISGUSTING. That one blister is really the worst, but my leg is all swollen and oozes all day long. It's really fantastic. Matthew is quite certain that there was nothing about loving me through this written into the wedding vows.

Now, I know it's totally lame to broadcast personal injuries as if I deserve your pity - there are people suffering much worse out there - but, frankly, have you SEEN anything like this? I've never had poison ivy before, so it's pretty exciting, in a tortured, self-immolating sort of way. I say self-immolating, because you should see the real reason why I got this poison ivy. It was in the name of art. ART, I tell you!

It was for me and our friend Davey to re-enact the Scarecrow scene in the Wizard of Oz when we were taking a walk out in Kennedyville and came to an inspiring crossroads.

Like this.
Or kind of like this.

Theater is art too, you know.

Well, I tell you, there's a REASON I don't do theater. Actually, there are two: 1. I suck at it.
and 2: Poison ivy.

So, it's been pretty miserable around here, especially given the fact that this weekend is Tea Party weekend in C-town, it's the first weekend it's been really hot and humid, and I've been standing on a ladder the past two days painting a mural while pus oozed through my bandages and soaked into my gross hot pus-soaked pants.

So there you go.
I hope you're grossed out.
Because it's hopefully going to get better, now that I've got some sort of prescription antidote, because everyone was getting pretty sick of me going, "Is this what it's supposed to look like? Are you sure? Look closer! TOUCH it! Isn't that GROSS?!"

Posted by ribbu at May 26, 2007 11:42 PM

Comments

gross

Posted by: ming at May 29, 2007 01:34 AM

I would also like to say that unlike the "Will Grill for Sex" post on theBarnstorming, the title of this post did not let me down.
I thank you for not being one of those dastardly bait-and-switch types (no offense meant to Matthew, of course).

Posted by: ming at May 29, 2007 01:37 AM