Tuesday 29 April 2014

Under The Hood


I bought a waterproof coat yesterday.

The process wasn't quite as efficient and violent as the last time I bought a coat.

I've just re-read that post, and was very pleased with this line:

An elderly couple on the escalator looked on in horror. I considered pushing them down. You know - for fun. 

I don't buy coats very often, but I was compelled by the warm, rainy weather to make the purchase.

My main coat is an excellent garment, but it is very thick and heavy. Much like myself. In the winter, this is a positive boon. But in summer, the girth of the item becomes a burden. I get hot very quickly, and so have to carry the coat around. It weighs approximately the same as a massive snake, and it just as cumbersome to hold.

I wanted something thin and waterproof. I found it in one of those shops that sells waterproof everything, tents, hiking boots and hats with flaps.

I tried it on right there in the shop. It felt indecent somehow. Changing clothes is usually an intimate operation. Of course, I was only taking off one jacket and putting on another, but it still felt illicit. My resultant erection compounded things.

Ahahaha. Jokes. We all like them, even those of us whose families were murdered by Bob Monkhouse.

Anyway, I bought the coat. Now I look even more like a middle-aged man. Only the middle-aged are concerned about being wet. Waterproofing is no concern of the young. Young people welcome the rain. It nourishes their firm skin, and lubricates them for going down slides.

Old people fear the water. They know that aged skin absorbs water like a wrinkly sponge, and we're at risk of drowning, or - at best - drowning slightly faster.

Over the next ten years, I'm going to completely waterproof my entire body. Even my tear ducts. Death comes in on a boat. Parch yourself. Become an island. A slippery, slippery island; dry as a bone; safe from invasion.

Millets will save us.

***

I had to touch my eyeball the other day. I could see an eyelash in there. It wasn't causing me any discomfort, and I probably wouldn't have even noticed it if I hadn't been staring into my own beautiful eyes.

But I couldn't just leave it there. Once you know there's an eyelash in your eye, you can't unknow it. The genie is out of the bottle. The ship has sailed. The bridge is burned. You have to get it out of there.

The trouble is that eyeballs are moist, and so the lash gets stuck. I tried to just brush or rub it out of there, but no dice.

I thought about using a tool of some kind (tweezers, cotton bud, etc), but that seemed dangerous. So I decided to use my finger.

I've never worn contact lenses, so it was something of a novelty for me. It's actually quite easy to touch your own eyeball, as long as you avoid the pupil. I finally managed to get the lash, but not without a lot of prodding. My eyeball felt weird, but the problem was solved.

Except a new problem presented itself. The lash was now stuck to my finger. It wasn't causing me any discomfort, and I probably wouldn't have even noticed it if I hadn't been staring at my own beautiful finger.

But I couldn't just leave it there. Once you know there's an eyelash on your finger you can't unknow it. The die is cast. The cheque has been written. The prophesy has been made, and stored in a snow globe. You have to get it off there.

The trouble is that eyeballs are moist, and so my finger (which had touched the eyeball) was also moist. So the lash got stuck. I tried to just brush or rub it off there, but no dice.

I thought about using a tool of some kind (chopstick, bookmark, etc), but that seemed dangerous. So I decided to use my eyeball.

I've never used my eyeball as an tool, so it was something of a novelty. It's actually quite easy to touch your own finger with your eyeball, as long as you avoid the jagged nail. I finally managed to get the lash, but not without a lot of crying. My finger felt weird, but the problem was solved.

Except a new problem presented itself. I am now legally blind.

***

I'm trying to get the word 'anecdotalist' added to my business cards, but the printer has run out of vowels.

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