Saturday, March 25, 2006

Scrubbing Troubles

I've told this story to my friends before. Seeing as how only about 14 people have stopped by to peek at my humble little blog, chances are that YOU are one of those friends. (Thanks again for stopping by for the sole purpose of humoring your weird little friend). But there may be one, perhaps two, of you that have not already suffered through this story.

I have troubles in the morning. Cognitive issues. Turns out that I am (at best) functionally retarded in the morning. Yet it is this very time of day that I choose to drag a semi-sharp piece of steel from my ankles to my hips. An intelligent person would wait to be awake and alert before shaving their legs. I am not, however, an intelligent person.

So on the morning in question, I had just completed shaving my legs. Starting to wake up a little bit, I figured today would be a good morning to exfoliate my most recent layers of accumulated person-plaque. I started with my arms and shoulders, liberally applying the almond-grit-sea-salt concoction, scrubbing with a zelot's vigor.

Feeling smoothly satisfied with my upper body, I moved on to give my legs a thorough scrubbing with this stuff. I rubbed in the salty chardonnay scented grit-paste onto both legs and 4 1/2 seconds later . . . .


Sweet Jesus!!! WHAT HAVE I DONE !!! ???

I frantically tried to get this crap off of my freshly shaven legs, but succeeded only in spreading it to more tender areas! AHHHHHHHHH!!!!! Finally I managed to rinse off most of the offending scrub just before I passed out from pain . . .

. . .

. . . I regained consciousness some time later. Turned off the water. And ever-so-tenderly toweled myslf off with what I believe was the world's scratchiest towel (That Snuggle Bear is full of shit, by the way).

So . . . I'm doing a little better these days. And my skin is incredibly smooth! You'll have to just take my word for it though, no one is allowed to touch it. YOW!