Every so often, a phenomenon comes along that changes the way we see the world. Simultaneously attractive and repulsive, the enigma reveals itself subtly and we become seized by obsessive curiosity and affectionate disgust.
Some people pick scabs. Pop zits.
We do research. And then we post pictures of our findings in our “Who I’d like to meet” section on MySpace.
Phantom twins, hairless cats, mummified babies kept as family heirlooms, tonsiloliths mistaken for orally transmitted genital warts (that was a close one), Suri Cruise - the list goes on and on.
And every time we come across a new, hideously glorious wonder, we think it can’t get any better. But we’re proven wrong. Time and time again, we’re proven wrong.
On that note, I really hope I never get a pilonidal cyst. (The Latin root alone stimulates my butt’s gag reflex.) Unless they reinstate the draft - then I’m totally pulling a Limbaugh. And buying a brand new pack of Target brand Q-tips so Catmo can clean it out for me.
You’re welcome Kitten.
1 comment:
i fucking love extracting tonsiloliths and then getting them out of the garbage 2 minutes later to smell them. Halitosis!
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