2006-06-09

I plucked my eyebrows for the dentist. I’m not sure why, but I’m sure it’s borne of the same impulse that drives me to shave cryptic messages into my Nastygrove before I visit the gynecologist. These proclamations are for the most part carefully considered and meticulously executed; however, my last attempt was a disaster. REMOVE YOURSELF, DOCTOR, GOD HIMSELF WILL OIL MY MITT IN PREPARATION FOR HIS HOLY HAND proved to be too long, so I shortened it to the considerably less devastating DOCTOR GOD+MY MITT=OILY. The next time around, the Nastygrove will bear the enigmatic words CLAM BROTH, maybe with a big X above them, to imply that a) the CLAM BROTH is a treasure, and b) a pirate needs to come and dig it up.

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