Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Butt Splinters


It could be said--it has been said--that I can be a bit of a princess when it comes to certain things, like butt splinters. I have found myself driven to distraction by the sudden manifestation of a butt splinter, and will dig inside my pants to try to find and evict it, even in socially inappropriate situations, which, I am told, is all of them. It always feels like a tiny little splinter is in my underpants. I manually examine the irritated micro-area on my person, and the adjacent underpantly material, but I rarely find the culprit. Someone once pointed out that I might be able to reduce the butt splinter frequency by wearing a thong, but wearing something in which the entire garment disappears is not an option for one as delicately wired for intrusions as I am. It has also been suggested that I could distract myself by thinking of something else instead, but I don't like to think that much. It interferes with looking at shiny stuff. That's what makes the butt splinters so vexsome.

Since I never find anything in my underwear that doesn't belong there, at least since menopause, it has occurred to me that the butt splinter itself is actually a random reordering of my skin cells. A small group of them has lined up just so and oriented themselves such that any pressure will drive them in. It doesn't sound like a big deal, but this is what you get when you're a person of few physical complaints and nothing whatsoever on her mind. You get phantom butt splinters. And you tip over a lot.

I accept that other people are not prone to butt splintering, although I suspect that many of them simply will not admit to it, but what I don't understand is how Bill McNeely managed to live with a nearly three-inch knife blade inside his back for several years without realizing it. He admits it was itchy, and he apparently made a habit of pawing at it, but the actual embedded knife was under his radar. And, I suspect, under a massive amount of what we will call personal insulation. You get enough meat on you and all kinds of things can hide in there. I didn't realize that until I developed back fat folds, and when I bent over to tie my shoes, dimes and Skittles and stuff fell out.

Mr. McNeely should have, at the least, been suspicious of his itchy spot. Whatever it was wasn't going away. Moreover, the itchy spot was at the exact same location as a knife wound he had suffered years earlier. He had gotten medical attention for it at the time, but not, I would argue, the finest in medical attention. By all appearances, the doctor hacked off the hilt and stitched him up. Now the sort of lack of attention that would cause a man to host a blade without realizing it could, I suppose, be put down to the fact that he is Canadian. Canadians are noted for being unflappable, although I will maintain that this is an untested assertion, because nobody ever really tries to flap a Canadian. More to the point is that Mr. McNeely is an extreme Canadian, holed up just under the roof of the planet, at the tippy top of the Northwest Territories. The Northwest Territories are so wicked cold nobody even wanted to claim them for a province. People just refer to them as "up there."

And it's so cold that even the women have to worry about their balls snapping off (oh, they have them). The sun briefly cruises the horizon like a pea rolling off a plate. The surgeon operates by the light of the Aurora Borealis. But now the glaciers are calving, the polar bears are stranded on dots of ice, and the locals are ordering tomato seedlings for the first time. Bill McNeely has finally thawed out enough to feel pain, and if the rest of the First Nation peoples do too, Exxon Mobil is going to have a lot to answer for.

72 comments:

  1. LOL! Thanks for the great start on the day Murr. You're the best. Although, I'm not so puzzled over the knife in the back thing as you. After all, fat girls have babies all the time that they weren't expecting, or even knew they were expecting. Of course, most of those girls have so many folds the thing that really amazes me is that some horney was able to find the right one in which to impregnate them in the first place. Then, the fact that anyone would want to is rather amazing in itself.

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    1. Different, um, strokes for different folks. I'd mention the flour trick but it seems like piling on. We prefer to target different people for our unkindness!

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    2. You, sir, are a cad. And a bigoted cad, at that.

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    3. You had that coming, Charlestie!

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    4. wait, what's the flour trick?

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    5. Ask almost any man. 80% of them know the flour trick. I just can't go there, because I'm too much of a lady.

      Okay, I know you didn't buy that, but I can't go there anyway.

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  2. Butt splinters. I can't say I've ever experienced that.

    Maybe the cold worked as an anesthetic on McNeely?

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  3. WOW and I thought hemorrhoids were irritating.

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  4. He lived with a knife point for how long?? Geebers! I would have fronted up to an x-ray facility long ago.
    I've never suffered from butt-splinters, but I do get shin splinters. Many times I have turned my jeans inside out searching for that elusive sharp object that is irritating my leg.
    I hat my back fat folds with the passion of a thousand fiery suns. Didn't even know I had them until I went bra shopping last year.

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    1. Three years! Three years! And I too was surprised to discover back fat folds. How does such a thing sneak up on you? Now I'm developing pudgy armpits. Oy.

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  5. "hat"? hmpf! That's "hate".

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  6. I am a new follower. When I read your posts, I imagine you in an HBO stand-up comedy special. Do you take your so very funny material on the road? :)
    A great way to start my day today. Thanks!

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    1. You're welcome, and welcome! I did do a book reading for Trousering Your Weasel and that went well. Who knew? At least I didn't throw up. That's the main thing.

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  7. Yikes! Fortunately he did get that knife blade out eventually. I once got a butt splinter that needed to be removed in the ER. Talk about embarrassing! I just finished Julie Zickefoose's book yesterday, and I loved it! Thank you, Murr, for turning me on to a great storyteller. :-)

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    1. I know, right? Don't you think your friend with the parrot would love a copy? Folks, we're talking about The Bluebird Effect: Uncommon Bonds With Common Birds.

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  8. Whoa! Although we did have a woman in town that was admitted to the hospital. While moving her into an oversized hospital bed a fork clattered to the ground....... Freed from the folds of her tummy. I now secretly carry cutlery everywhere, especially the sp-ork

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    1. Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you for that story. I wonder if all my orphaned socks are somewhere on my person?

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  9. What a long strange trip it's been . . . only you, Murr, could so easily lead us from butt splinters to the perils of global warming with that much laughter along the way . . . thanks!

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    1. I do seem to get there a lot. You might say it's on my mind.

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  10. What a long strange trip it's been . . . only you, Murr, could so easily lead us from butt splinters to the perils of global warming with that much laughter along the way . . . thanks!

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  11. Hey, I keep feeling those splinters, too, but they're on my legs. I get tiny pimple-like things that seem to be caused by clothing friction. Danged if those things don't hurt! But you say you can't see anything at all ... hmmm ... no help here, but lots of sympathy.

    And applause for another funny post!

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    1. Wait a minute. Are you suggesting I have butt pimples? Be prepared to defend yourself, m'lady!

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  12. hahaha butt splinters never thought about them, however, thongs would help because they just bring different issues...

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    1. If my underwear had disappeared up my butt, butt splinters wouldn't even register. However.

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  13. Actually in the video, he doesn't look like he's carrying that much extra weight. But you know how it is; it's hard to get excited about something poking you if it's only three inches...

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  14. From butt splinters to global climate change...only you could pull that off.

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  15. I mostly deal with Boston terrier hairs stuck in the soles of my feet and the phantom sensation that I HAVE Boston terrier hairs stuck in my feet. Those things are like wires.

    I once nailed my cap to my skull with a thorn, but that's a whole nother issue...

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    1. Oh no, you don't, Bruce. You do not leave us hanging. We need a full report. BTW, I doubt I'd notice a thorn stuck in my head.

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    2. I was out fossil hunting and went up a tributary that was overgrown with bull briars. I was pushing my way through when I felt something jab into my head. I tugged and when my cap finally came off, there was a two foot branch of dead bull briar attached. But I still had that jabbing in my head. I felt around and found a thorn still stuck there. No amount of pulling and wiggling would get it out. So I checked in with my mom, who is a nurse. She tried tweezers and finally resorted to needlenose pliers. The thorn was an inch long and 1/4 inch of it had been in my head. Not sure what thickness the scalp is there, but it seems likely that part of the thorn actually was in my skull.

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    3. It would have been cool if it had gone into a particular part of your brain and you, like, started to bark or something.

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  16. Flapping Canadians is an offense punishable by a week "up there".

    UNflapping them will be punished by TWO weeks up there.

    Pearl

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    1. Pearl! Let's get us a rock band going! The Unflapped Canadians!

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    2. And when you say "Unflapped Canadians" so help me all I can think of is guys wearing maple-leaf-red combination underwear (also called a union suit) with the "trapdoor" flapping in the breeze ...

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    3. We are nothing without our imaginations.

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  17. I'm not the only one who experiences phantom heiney splinters? Thank God!

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    1. You know, really, it's enough to base a fraternity on.

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  18. Jeepers, if he was unaware of a three-inch knife blade in his back for so long, goodness knows what else is still securely lodged in various parts of his anatomy without his knowing. A tin opener under his rib cage? A garlic crusher in his left thigh? And he keeps asking himself, what the hell did I do with that tin opener, it was around here somewhere....

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    1. And let's not even look for the nutcracker.

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  19. Murr, I feel for you. I am frequently awoken by butt pains, tho in one of my more lucid awakenings, it turned out to be one of the badgers poking at my backside because I was snoring. Still. Splinters? Entirely not fictional. Roth x

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    1. I really hate sleeping with badgers. They're always looking for a hole to burrow into.

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    2. Badgers? We don' need no e'stinkin' badgers!

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  20. Reading your blog posts is hazardous to my computer! This one caused me to spit all over the unsuspecting machine....

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  21. You know how you read about head lice and next thing you know you have to scratch your head? Well, after reading your post, I better move away from the open window before I...well, you know.

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    1. Unfortunately for you, I'm highly likely to write about head lice next.

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  22. Damn, I left Canada for 35 years and when I returned they'd cut the NWT in half and called the other bit Nunavut. I'm hoping our PM will soon be spending his retirement there.

    'the doctor hacked off the hilt and stitched him up'

    Thank goodness I've learned to finish drinking my evening tea before I come here.

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    1. Is Nunavut the top half? I could Google, but you're right here.

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  23. It seems like you could market some kind of Murr's Blog Keyboard Protection Device.

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    1. Hey, I've got a Keyboard Condom for my Mac. It's cool as hell. It's like rubber two molecules thick.

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  24. I guess you're lucky that you only have butt splinters and not an itchy back.

    And yup, Nunavut is the northern part.

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    1. And what makes the Northwest Territories the Northwest Territories if there's something else to the west of it, and now something else to the north of it? Gets me flapping.

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  25. Maybe you're part cat? You know, that thing they do where they are trotting along in front of you and then suddenly have to lick frantically at a butt sliver, causing you to trip over them, do the splits and spill your tea? Otherwise there's no explanation for it, Murr. Middle of the back itches, however, oh yeah!

    And about the guy suddenly noticing the knife blade: deffo global warming. Spot on, Murr.

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    1. At least I can still reach my butt. My back is farther away, somehow.

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    2. You can lick your butt? A woman of many talents.
      I understand that people have also been surprised(?!) to discover bullets in various parts of themselves. Obviously I am a wimp. I am pretty certain I would notice a bullet or a knife...

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    3. Reach. REACH. Reach my butt. With my hand. Although it takes two hands to find it.

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  26. Butt splinters? I just came in from hours of weed whacking and now butt splinters.

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    1. That's what you get for turning your back on me.

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  27. Butt splinters? Do you bark dust your plantings to keep them pretty? Those cedar bark splinters are wicked! They get on your hands, then you absently scratch your butt, or your boob, or the back of your neck, and then you are constantly harassed by the annoying little pricks. Sort of like when you stand on the used car lot, absently looking around, and then salesmen appear.

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    1. I do NOT use bark dust. Not since someone got it smoldering with a cigarette once. No, these are phantom butt splinters, which are the worst kind, because you can't fix them.

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  28. I was going to mention the tick that burrowed in, way in, before I went to the doctor...but the comments eclipse any mention of a mere tick.(no, not in my butt. Well, not that one...)

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  29. When I purchase new drawers, I inspect for the tiny, protruding pieces of nylon thread,which they seem to include at the seams, and snip the bits off. Voila! No more butt splinters.

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    1. Oh THOSE. Yeah. My butt splinters are never at a seam. They're right in the, er, meat of the situation.

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  30. Dear Murr, yes Exxon Mobil does have a lot to answer for. Peace.

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    1. Oh, and we love their products, we do, we do...

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