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.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Splinter.
Posted by Amy Jean at 9:11 PM
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