Wednesday, November 5, 2008

The doctor wouldn't see me without a prescription

This is an entry for the blogathong, which I heard about from Scary Scary Quite Contrary.

I don't know many details about it other than people are expected to write a blog a day, Monday to Friday, for the next 25 days.

I like that idea. I've been too lazy lately.

Send all complaint letters to

href="mailto:sexmahoney@gmail.com">sexmahoney@gmail.com
.



In the life of every nose picker, there comes a point when you know you should probably stop.

I don't mean stop picking your nose forever that would be absolutely ludicrous; none of us would be able to breathe and we'd walk around slack jawed like the screaming yokels who continue to protest outside the CBS main office to bring back Hee Haw.

I'm talking about those times when you pull your finger out of your nose and it's covered by a fair amount of blood.

Of course, it's hard to tell exactly how much blood is really coming out up there, because snot tends to dilute the blood and make it look like there's more than there is, but blood coming out of any place on your body is a pretty good indication that it's time to stop whatever behavior in which you are currently engaged. I mean, you wouldn't keep stabbing yourself with a knife after the first puncture unless you were trying to do a fair amount of damage, but there's a good number of us out there who would look at a bloody, snotty finger, decide that everything's hunky dory, wipe it on the sleeve of the person sitting next to us, and dig in for more.

Sure, you may end up with a bloody nose, but how else are you supposed to pass the time while waiting at the Department of Motor Vehicles without having to talk to someone who weighs several hundred pounds more than the average elephant and wants to get their driver's license back after serving out their sentence for accidentally running over a class of field tripping children?

Like many of life's more disgusting ways to dispose of bodily waste, nose picking is almost entirely a solo activity.'

Even if you look up nose picking party, the only thing you'll find are novelty props used to make people think you're picking your nose. As hilarious as that gag may be, I don't see why nose picking should be kept in the closet the way that it is.

Sometimes, there's some interesting things stuck up your nose. I once pulled out a booger that looked like Pope Benedict the 16th getting plowed by Soupy Sales. I wish I could have shown it to someone.

The problem is that, as an adult, I'm not often around other adults in a friendly setting except in a party environment, and it's hard to express your desire to show someone something you've plucked from your nostrils over annoyingly loud bar music. Most of the time, you end up getting your ass kicked because they think you're trying to rub snot on them, when nothing could be further from the truth.

Spitting seems to be okay in public. I see people spit on the street and in bars all the time. Nobody does much showing off or comparing, but they're spitting just the same. It hardly seems fair that folks are allowed to spit in a crowd, a form of excretion much wetter than nose picking, while I have to sneak my fingers up my nose when no one is looking. Plus, since most of what you spit is solid waste that has slid down the back of your throat from your nose, then spitting is really just another way of picking your nose, only now you've most likely got left over mucus and a few flecks of phlegm all over your tongue and teeth. With a nose pick, whatever doesn't get rubbed off and dropped on the floor dries on your hand and flakes away with the millions of dead skin cells you shed hourly; sure, there is probably some residual nose gold on your digits, but I would imagine that the chance of getting any on you is minimal at best.

These are the kinds of things I think about when I see a happy couple kissing and holding hands.

I can understand why spitting is socially acceptable, because most people don't touch the floor with anything but their shoes; meanwhile, people's hands are all over everything: door knobs, light switches, and your wife's breasts when she's drunk and you're not looking. Given the amount of nose picking that goes on in this world, everything you touch must be, in some degree, covered by dried up boogers.

When we get together for a party, or crowd into a bar, the amount of snot flying around boggles the mind.

Just think about it, not only is there snot on everything you touch, but people are breathing it out every time expel used up air from their lungs, and forget about coughing. When we get together for a party, it's like a gigantic snot extravaganza.

And that's not even to mention all the left over urine and fecal matter floating around.

Human beings are filthy, revolting creatures, and it's only the most repressed of us who try to hide from that fact by pretending to be clean, civilized animals.

The next time you're at a party, make sure to tell everyone what you learned here today, particularly if it's the kind of party where people walk around with silver trays full of delicious hors d'oeuvres and everyone has the Roman numeral III after their names.

Once everyone stops talking to us, we can go back to our game of pulling things from our noses, comparing them, and smearing our blood stained fingers on their white furniture.

Sex Mahoney for President


Currently listening to:

Breathe
by Dan Bern

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