Thursday, August 30, 2012

As You Were!

I have not written since I went Bohemian. Did I abandon clackers for the footwear embraced by a populace of toenails that need permits? NEVER.  Hell no, my shiny hardwoods were a lesson:  Wear shoes.  Foot blisters on the bottom. I know, insane. Calluses I understand and respect.. and dutifully get out that lava stone that should be a damned shiny diamond by freaking now.. (I know, gross NOT what nerds know pumice compressed is..)
Humm.
Changing gears.
I have a orthopedic ball and chain going on. I once thought my little feet were cute.  Thank you Nazi Podiatrist nurse.  I really do hate you because it felt like you ripped an unseen mustache off the sole of my foot.  Holy Crap! Does no one cry?  Thoughts go from pain to murderous easily when fear of the unknown and anxiety lead people to insinuate drama is my middle name.  Nope witch.  Where is Eminem or a good trashy Fuck You Go to person when you need em? (on each hand)

Yes, I could brap about many health issues while I polish my knife collection  Look out grumpy old men.  Hey.  Just when I haven't seen you (Nazi nurse) .. Walter Matttou bent over and the camera panned away to reveal you.
Enough~

Bohemian was where I had to opt out of traditional grooming methods of: DAILY and pretend style was not cried over piteously because substance was a major foot overhaul of genetically cute but defunct feet.  Right foot still bears surgery autograph. 

My first brush with stitches.
Compression bandages are made for tall people I assume.

Bring on the cheese.
and
whine.

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