Operation Mini-Skirt Status: -24.2 lbs.
Days to England: 21 (Three weeks, today, baby! Swingin' London! Ohh yeah!)
Mood: Neutral. (The dissatisfaction of Op.M-S. versus the wonderfully short time left before I hit the U.K. kind of cancels each other out.)
Yesterday, I met a guy who used to have a surface to surface piercing. He had a barbell type thing stuck through his arm. On purpose.
Let me say it again.
He had both ends of a bar of metal protruding through the flesh in his arm. Ew. And yet... strangely fascinating...
Right, I know, piercings are so in, they're out. So very last century. So utterly... tired. But I've always been an hour behind the game, so bear with me here. I mean, I don't dislike them - in moderation. A quirky little stud in the ear cartilage, a jaunty ring through the brow... hell, even something stylish and shiny in your tongue can be kind of captivating.
It's those guys who have more metal in their faces then flesh that squick me the hell out! Don't you get cold? How do you sleep? Does getting an electric shock hurt more? What about travelling? Are airport metal detectors a pain in the ass? Or are you used to that? Do you already have a ring down there? And while we're digging around ... down there... heh heh (Iím twelve)... south of the border piercings! Gah! You know, I'd be willing to bet that the original Prince Albert is probably rolling around in his grave right now! And this brings me to another question... if Joe Albert and Ring-Around-The-Rosie are, er, frolicking... granted, it does bring a whole new meaning to the idea of setting off sparks, but really, isn't there a chance of some... snagging?
I think Iím done here.
Have a good day, all. A real hole in one.
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