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Flaming Arrows, Pitchfork And The Excavator

Posted by Zella CE, 25 September 2008 · 134 views

What? Why? What for? How come? Seriously.

Why is it that when I get even the slightest bit contaminated my entire body overheats? Thank the stars that doesn't happen often..

The feeling is similar to that of an army of soldiers, marching into this thing I call a body and shooting flaming arrows until everything catches fire and the structure (me) collapses or runs for the nearest water source..

I mean really.. is all that necessary? Is there a particular reason my temple aka body, has to be a flaming heap of skin and bones?

Personally, I think there are a bunch of tiny people inside my body - waiting - sipping tea and watching my blood cells go by and then BOOM... The gluten monster comes and the native tiny folk go charging after it.. World War 829 ensues and there I am.. hanging out with the wet towel on my forehead, behind my neck and praying the gluten monster is stopped by the tiny people. If the tiny people don't stop it.. Then it's time for the miniature knife set to be thrust into every bone in my body. Actually, it is more like someone sticking a ton of needles in my bones. Not just any needles either, ohhhh no, these happen to open up once they have found their way into my bones. They open up and become forceps. That's right.. The needles become bone marrow forceps.. Expanding every inch of my bone marrow until my only option is to scream.

I guess that is why I like the tiny folk with the blazing arrows, they prevent the bone marrow needle forceps and my least favorite of all - the intestinal pitchfork and excavator.

I'm not sure why the pitchfork has to accompany the excavator, but they always seem to do a stellar job of shaking things up and moving things out. Sounds affects would be great right about now.. Although I may risk deletion if I go that route. Let's just say that the wet towel and the porcelain are forever my life partners. Shoot, the pitchfork and I, we go WAAAAY back.. I mean that pitchfork has been taking a stab at my intestines since I was 12. Ok, wellll, it was at age 12 that I realized it wasn't normal to have the battle of the bowels after every meal. Anyway, I like to avoid visits from those two as much as possible. They can stay in the holding cell with the blazing arrows.

Going back to the flaming arrows, I really only appreciate those when they don't overheat me and cause me to pass out. I don't enjoy passing out. It's not that fun type of passing out that you see on TV. Oh no, it's not like I just fall over and that's it. It goes from HOT - I mean throw an egg on me and it will be scrambled hot - to the tunnel of doom and then finally the TIMBER.. but less Tim and more Ber. I can't stand the tunnel. It's irritating. I don't mind lighting effects, shoot the boyfriend is a lighting designer, I just don't like them within my own eyes. Quite annoying.

The FLOATERS.. No not the tater tots in the porcelain pot, EYE FLOATERS. Anyone get those? Pesky buggers. I get those every day, probably not associated with gluten, but nevertheless, I get them and they play sports. I honestly think they're playing ping pong or pinball. Either way, the things love to bounce around. Yea. I think one just won the gold medal at cornea table tennis. But let me tell you, I'd rather have floaters any day than have to have my eyes examined with those godforsaken dilation drops. I love to be in control of a situation.. those drops.. they take the control away. You can't see up close. You can't read. Oh goodness. I'm getting faklempt just thinking about it.

Floaters to flaming arrows, that concludes my random 4 AM mental dump.
To bed, I said... to myself.
I promise. I'm only this weird early in the morning.

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