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Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Splinter.


I once had a splinter in the crease where your thigh joins onto your pelvis.
When I tried to pull it out, it stung like a fucker.
I considered leaving it there, but I was pretty confident the body didn't absorb wood.
Twenty minutes of ginger pulling, it freed the 5 millimeter long chunk of wood from my skin, and observed it closely.
I wasn't worried about the species of tree of which it came from, or the grain in the wood. I was more concerned at how in the fuck I got a splinter so close to my box.
I mean, my box - its basically what I am.
Not saying I'm a walking vagina, because, well, frankly society wouldnt be able to accept a vagina with legs. Which hole would be the mouth?
The actual vagina or the wee hole?

I've just detangled my beehive.
My hair has minimal loss.
That makes me happy.

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