This one’s for Roberta
Because scatology need not only involve poo
Anyway, in 76, I was visiting the Henry Ford with the rents, (Back then it was called “Henry Ford’s Museum”)and we had spent an afternoon in Windsor, looking at those kooky Canadians.
It had rained, and was still wet, and I was wearing jeans, a dago T, and water buffalo sandals
As I sloshed my nearly bare feet through puddles I held my left arm by my side, and my right arm at an angle like a bodybuilder flexing. See, I had a boil under that arm, and it hurt like hell. I’m not afraid to say that putting my arm down nearly made me weep in pain- it was a doozy of a boil.
Anyway, we were only going to be in Windsor for a couple of hours so we went to get some souveniers. I bought a small tin box with a mountie silkscreened on top, which had a similarly decorated handkerchief inside. My sister got a pair of gaudy earrings, and I think I also got a little cast iron cannon.
We’re walking along the shore, looking across the river at Detroit, and I felt the strong urge to scratch my armpit. As I lifted my arm and began gingerly touching the boil, it burst with some force, squirting a stream of pus and crap… into the hair of a short woman passing by.
I started to stop her to tell her, and thought, discretion being the better part and all, to shut the fuck up and move on.
I moved away from our group and squeezed out the balance of the crap, as best i could, and stuffed my (New!) handkerchief under my armpit to stem the tide of blood that was now draining there.
I was able to put my arm down for the rest of our trip, which was nice. I still have the tin box, I think, but the handkerchief got thrown out that very day.
I often wonder what happened when that woman returned home to find a big glob of pus in her hair.
Memreeez.
You tell, without a doubt, the most disgusting personal stories I have ever heard. –And (from a safe distance), you’re a very amusing guy.
Also, Ogwife is a saint.
:)
Yes, Roberta, she is.
By the way, this shit (sic) happens to everyone. In fact, where bodily secretions are concerned, men have NOTHING on women. Most people just ignore- or turn away from- the oogy bits. I never turn away.
Mousse!
I remember being in a line and in the ladies hair ahead of me a really big spider got on top and waved at me. I knocked it off her head barely touching her hair. She made me feel like I had just shit my pants.
Never have done it again.
This story made me gag…but in a good way.
I now know it’s possible to laugh and gag at the same time…