I was shaking off after an outside wee and a drop landed on top of a foot. By reflex I wiped the foot on the back of the other leg which until recently was always covered as I wore ladies PJ pants during my now not-work life. Until recently; on doctor's orders I am wearing short shorts to prevent thigh chafe.So all I did was wipe wee from the top of my foot to the back of my other leg.Outside urination; it does come with risk.
Articles from Harrangue Man
Thanks to my womb-deformed body I have flat feet. Not flat as in “fallen”, flat as in utterly flat.
First up I am checking in for privilege. I am a white male in a Western society with hot and cold clean, disease free water on tap that I can not only drink but cook, shower and garden with. That is monstrous privilege. Because of my LLL I have to put a plastic bag on my lower left leg to protect the stitch site.
I am not mentally well, or rather, I am mentally ill and mentally injured. I have to be reminded this by thewife on occasion when I say things that may or may not be anchored in reality or attempt things that may seem a reach.I've been immersed in stressful work and had to confirm it was not for nought. It wasn't; it's not. It's not for nought. I judder-cried at the response; that it wasn't for nothing.
Tweezers. I picked them up and then my PTSD-afflicted and womb-robbed fingers immediately dropped them. I risked a bend to pick them up.Then I tweezed out the hair the re-grows from the freckle on my nose. That I succeeded at that is amazing but I had to hold the wrist with the other hand because of the trembles.I hate dropping things for seeming no reason; but there is one, I was injured and I am forever stained by that injury.
Another mass shooting and mass grieving and again it happened to Florida. And, as the tale of the life of the alleged shooter comes out, those that were not shot have already started acting with those students getting their shit on and taking their pain public.What grips me is the stories of the people who were shot, often while protecting others and often people they did not know. When a spree s
My new doc noticed the raised scar tissue on my left leg and said it was big and angry enough to not risk it and so off it went.The local injection was the hardest part—it was a prolonged "OWOWOWOWOWOWOW" reaction from me as the needle did its business. But then the lump was excised and evidence bagged for cancer, I was stitched up and off I went.It means no riding an exercise bike for at least a week and wearing a plastic bag—he recommended Woolies—taped below my knee in the shower to keep t
Every time my leg boil is attended to the black cat investigates. Last time was Valentines Day. She sits on my stomach as thewife squeezes ichor from the site.Maybe it's simple curiosity; cats are known for investigating things.
I endured the crafting of another Lovecraftian email—only one typo this time and I didn't re-send it when found because it almost looked right for the absence of a pair of commas—but then had to step away from the computer lest additional hurt land. So I found Game of Thrones, set it up on the laptop, then rode the bike to break the spell. I hate this shit; having to re-live again and again what happened to me, the horror I endured and the ongoing knock-on damage it cause.
I have to use a Clearwipe on the laptop screen because splatter from expectorant and other assorted disgust has sullied it to the point where I can't tell if that's punctuation or a bit of yuck.It's near nine-years-old, this machine, bought when still working and on a discount.