These Feet Were Made for Blistering

I went to Washington D.C. a few Fridays ago and saw the monuments and a couple of museums. I did A LOT of walking. Everything is in one area but it’s all so big you have walk and walk and walk to get anywhere. By the end of the day I had developed a very large blister on the bottom of my right foot. It’s getting better . . . but it’s not going away entirely and I’m afraid it’s taken up permanent residence.

I searched the internet for precedence and found the case of Larry Brickman from Sioux City Iowa who developed a blister on his heel in 1997. The repeated use of antibiotic cream (which I have been using as well) resulted in the blister gaining sentience. Before Larry knew it the blister, who was now going by the name Whitey Hardskin, had built a permanent home on his heel complete with indoor plumbing and rattan furniture on the deck overlooking Larry’s calf.

Feeling nervous, last night I tried talking to my blister:

“So, when were thinking about leaving?”

“Nerty efidof dfogg.”

“What?”

“Joued nmmkjsdh nnndfff”

“I gotta go. Nice talking to you.”

“Blerf.”

Ok, so good news and bad news. The bad news, the blister talked back so it’s self-aware. The good news is it’s apparently a blithering idiot. I decided to cover it up with a bandage and hope that without light and air, the blister would pack up and move on. But before I could place the bandage I was handed a tiny piece of paper. Putting it under a bright light and using an electron microscope I built myself from empty Chef Boy-Ar-Dee cans and Fruit Stripe gum, I read a strongly worded cease-and-desist letter. The blister has retained counsel.

So for now I’m stuck with my foot blister. It talks while I’m trying to sleep, cries during episodes of Duck Dynasty and yells out wrong answers during Jeopardy. The answer was “He led the roughriders in the Spanish-American War” and the blister says “What is peanut butter?” Come on: If you’re not even going to try . . .

I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’m being inundated with legal briefs from the lawyer. The blister is suing me for everything from defamation of character to creating an unsafe work environment. He’s also applied for a permit to build a townhouse. The borough inspected my foot last night and will issue a ruling late next week.

All this to see the Washington Monument . . .

A Day in the Life of Aries

My horoscope for today:

This is another day for settling in and tending to practical matters, dear Aries.

“Dear Aries”? That’s more familiar than I like an astrology web site to get with me but I’ll overlook it. “Practical matters”. I guess that means I shouldn’t work on my tunnel to the land of the mole people that I believe live under my trailer and break in at night to steal from my spice rack. I’m telling you I had more than half a jar of cumin a few days ago.

Even so, a repeated theme comes into focus today, and involves facing up to truths about the past, and possibly a hard look at financial or intimacy matters.

My intimacy matters are not the business of a for-entertainment-purposes only, pseudo-scientific enterprise such as Horoscopes-R-Us. Furthermore there are no problems between myself and Darlene the Wonder Girl. I got her out of the package and inflated just fine. Yes, the cat punctured her but I patched the hole with some duct tape. Everything’s good now. As for financial matters, hmm, let’s see, $200 for the doll, $10,000 for the drill to dig under the trailer, $3 for Cheetos, $5000 to pay the drilling crew, $105 for Cheetos for the crew, $1500 to fix the damage the crew did to the neighbor’s lawn, $35 for Cheetos for the neighbors . . . yeah, I’m broke.

You'll need to muster up a lot of patience, as you can be experiencing some delays and restrictions now. Even so, these are not setbacks. Instead, you are making important adjustments. You may not be able to move forward as quickly as you'd like, but if you do so step by step, then you're more likely to do it successfully.

The neighborhood improvement committee has sent me a cease and desist letter about the drilling, but I think I’m close to convincing them the mole people are real. I spoke to the treasurer, Margie Flup, and she said her oregano is gone and her dried dill weed is suspiciously low.

This is not the best day for financial and romantic matters, as there is some insecurity to deal with on these levels.

Of course there are some insecurities. I’ve spent my life savings on industrial equipment I’m not zoned for to prove that the mythical creatures I believe are living under my home are real just so I can save on buying cumin seed and bay leaves.

Creativity: Fair ~ Love: Fair ~ Business: Good

Creativity = fair? I don’t know, I came up with this nonsense didn’t I?

The Story of April Fool's Day

April Fool’s Day was invented in 1956 by Maury Swartz, a dentist from Far Rockaway NewYork. Dr. Swartz wrote a letter to President Eisenhower wanting to create a national holiday for miniature horses called Neigh Day. The letter found its way into the hands of the Under Secretary of the Interior Donnelly Flanderhooven.

Believing the letter was a practical joke, Flanderhooven created the required paper work to get Neigh Day declared a federal holiday. His plan was to slip it onto the agenda of the Oversight Committee for American Activities and Fast Food Initiatives to give the senators a good laugh.

The committee gave the document their stamp of approval sending the paperwork on to Congress for a vote. With his joke backfiring Flanderhooven desperately tried to explain to committee chairman Senator Felsley Backgammon that Neigh Day wasn’t real, only his attempt at a joke. Long noted for not having a sense of humor or a gall bladder, Senator Backgammon commented, “By God it’s on its way to being real because my gavel said so.” 

Racing to the House of Representatives to intercept the Neigh Day bill, Flanderhooven ran into the personal assistant of the speaker of the house and was told that they had already voted on the Neigh Day bill and it passed unanimously 435-0. It was already on its way to the senate.

Flanderhooven ran to the Senate floor where he had a stroke, collapsing into the arms of a page while saying the word “Neigh” over and over. Believing that he was there to stump for the passage of the Neigh Day bill, the senate voted unanimously for approval after only a small argument from the honorable Daily Higgenbottom from Maine who suggested moving the date to May 1 and calling it May Hay Day.

With Flanderhooven in the hospital the bill landed on President Eisenhower’s desk. The first thing he did was add a note to the bottom of the bill that read “This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever read.” In the margin he scribbled “Is this what congress does all day?” The next thing he did was rename it April Fool’s Day. The last thing Eisenhower did before lighting up a cigar and pouring a glass of Pappy Van Winkle’s Family Reserve bourbon, was sign the bill into law.

That’s the story of April Fool’s Day. Or is it?