Nov 23 2008
Yearly on the Vigil I Will Feast My Neighbors, Strip My Sleeves and Say “These Wounds I Had on St. Yogurt’s Day”
By request, the Yogurt Wound:
Fortunately, the wound is not on my pointing hand. I could have been out of commission for weeks.
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“Tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door…”
Stop biting your nails.
But they’re so tasty.
They’re only tasty because you keep covering them in ninja yogurt.
No, that’s what keeps them strong. The tasty part comes from the honey butter skin cream.
Your Board Chow must be great.
(That’s when you turn your keyboard upside down, give it a whack and eat what falls out).
Well, your pointing is safe, but how are you going to write without your f,g,v,b,r,t,-typing finger?
Actually, the way I type, I only occasionally use the index finger on my left hand. I’m good.
I’ve cut myself on glue, but it was thoroughly dried carpenter’s glue, so it sort of made sense.
The cut looked a lot like yours, strangely.
Wait! You’ve been marinading in using honey-butter all these years?!?
This is useful information.
the wound is not on my pointing hand
Or even more fortunate, not on the adjacent finger. Which, as we used to have to explain to our younger daughter, “is not for pointing.”
Though, of course, some people do just require pointing with that finger to get their attention.
I seem to have typed myself stupid today.
I’m going to go play with my crayons now.
That’s enough. I’m hereby declaring null and void your manliness license. Please remove your testicles and put them in your freezer into an airtight box, we’ll send someone to retire them as soon as possible.
Yes. Scalzi is no longer a man. He is now veal. Sweet, sweet, honey-butter marinaded veal.
“Was mich nicht umbringt, macht mich starker.”
How did the sleeves fare during the original incident?
Even now, insurgent yogurt cells, having breached the Human Skin Barrier are making their way to John’s brain where they will make sure that at least one character in all future novels loves and respects the yogurt… until it turns on them.
The horror. The horror.
I wonder if yogurt can talk to each other… (Or is it yogurts?)
Yogurt communicating across a honey-butter saturated medium?
I’ve heard of stranger things, Lizzy.
I gave myself a very nasty paper cut back in my youth when I worked at Blockbuster. I was assembling a Cruella DeVille standee and I had to bend the entire length of it at a particular crease. I slid my hand up Cruella’s uh, body, to make the fold and it sliced deeply into my hand two perfectly parallel cuts. It turns out cardboard is made by taping two razorblades together with honeycombed paper in between.
I have an even better horror story about our shrink wrap machine, but I’ll save that for another day.
MarkHB@6:
….
…yuck.
Exactly the same spot I got a bagel-cutting injury a few days ago.
I guess the infection has reached Ohio.
(examines self) Nope, no dairy related injuries today…the only serious cuts I’ve had were with a putty knife, and a box knife — not at the same time, of course….but aren’t scars fun?
I agree with MarkHB. Stop biting them! I’ve got kids doing that! I think the Drill Sargents made them stop finally.
I developed a similarly-placed wound today in a tragic gumbo-making indecent (how does one cut oneself whilst making gumbo? Only during prep. The *real* wound–The Scalding—came much later. Oh, how we suffer for our culinary desires!)
As for the nails, you might want to try Tabasco Sauce. True, it didn’t stop my brother from sucking his thumb—though it may have played a role in the Tabasco-drinking competition he engaged in during Fesitivales Acadien (it ended in a draw, BTW.) But you live in Ohio, so it might work for you.
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But Scalzi will remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day.
I declare a Hand Pun War!
I’ll begin…
I’ve got to hand it to you, that’s quite a cut.
At least he fingered the culprit.
And gentlemen in Cleveland now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs’d to not comment here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
Of what happened to Scalzi this day.
And did this event make you calmer?
If we get enough puns, someone might have to index them.
Will you remember, with advantages, the feats you did that day? Is this the story that you, the good man, will teach you “son”?
your “son”. Dang.
Looks painful.
It kind of reminds me of an injury I received a few years back in a hotel in Omaha.
They had one of those paper strips across the toilet seat saying something like: “For Your Protection.”
Well, the strip did not protect me from a nasty paper cut.
I guess my story is a bit different–Scalzi was cut on his finger.
Sure, you might have fingered the culprit… but I bet he’ll get off with just a slap on the wrist.
Unless you call the long arm of the law…
and, at his heels, leashed in like hounds
should yogurt, netbook and ghlaghlee
crouch for employment…
I can tell you fought that yogurt tooth and nail… but, in the end, he was just a cut above the rest.
Hey John, I thought of this past last week when I cut myself on…baby food. Yup. The sweet potatoes were crusted on the edge and when I unscrewed the cap, it sliced open my hand.