I have forgotten so many things in the last six months. How cold the winters can be. How there is an undeniable high in being all north-indian macho. How rules can be disregarded with massive dollops of impunity. How it feels to be high and in the backseat of a car as it wriggles and jiggles its way through the middle of the night. Music blaring and neon lights shining off the roof of the car.
I find it odd that I have forgotten so much so easily. And I find it even odder just how easily it all comes back.
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I saw a group of kids/men break into a fight last night. One chap grabbed a pint and smashed the bottle on another chap’s head. The glass splattering onto the floor along with the blood. The punches were fairly ill-aimed but that bottle-smashing move was absolutely spot-on.
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Last night I received what could be called a validation of a few, stressed-out hours of hard work. It felt good and I realised that I had forgotten what that felt like as well. How odd.
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I wish I would receive normal injuries like everyone else. The only fracture I had was when I hit a wall and the chickenpox evaded me. Measles came and went and I don’t think I have ever suffered from jaundice. The only scar I have is due to my moronic abilities involving a horse-whip, a horse and further dollops of my moronic ability.
Which brings me to the half-marathon that I ran at the SCMM last week. This time there were no bleeding nipples (only cracked ones, equally painful but less obvious) but there was a new addition to my fucked up injury list.
You see when people of my girth walk/jog for long periods of time, their thighs rub against each other. Given enough rubbing, the skin will rub itself off, revealing freshly-pink flesh. This will eventually turn into scabs which will keep falling off every time you walk. Also, every “normal” step is painful since the exposed flesh is now rubbed some more.
The only option to avoid this pain is to keep walking “like a retard” (the term used by my extremely learned friend) making sure that Left Thigh and Right Thigh don’t really get to know each other too well.
I have been walking like a retard for quite some time now.
personally, i think that walk looks like “ooo….got a stick up your pretty little arse!” kinda walk
Yeah…I’ve seen that bottle smashing move too. It makes me wonder if people are more efficient with extensions. Like, your hands are not that competent on their own, so they need a stick, a bottle, a sword or maybe a gun. Man is a very weak animal without his ‘extensions’.
@schmidt: yus yus. I have heard that description too.
@L&F: I know I would be pretty weak without MY extensions.
Oh…Something tells me I shouldn’t ask you what those are….