Mostly whimsy and drivel of no consequence. And CHEESE.
In case you haven’t noticed, I am providing a valuable holiday service to you – FREE, gratis, complimentary, on the house – you get the picture. Well, actually the picture is over that way:
See “Capitalism Runs Rampant.”
Every day (or so) I shall post FREE holiday gift suggestions that I have gleaned from my Mother’s innumerable catalog selections. This means that you could order any of these thoughtful and practical gifts from the comfort of your own armchair or bathtub! (Perhaps scratch bathtub because of electricity and whatnot.)
Sometimes you run across something unusual: an item that actually does what it purports – nary a whit of false advertising. I own such an item – a “foot cutter” by Battalia. “What is a ‘foot cutter?'” one may ask. I will tell you: IT CUTS FEET. More specifically, it is an implement with a very sharp razor blade (German, in this case, though it’s a Korean product) that you use to remove calluses and hardened skin on your feet. I should point out that you are expected to run screaming in fright from any Salon that has the audacity to use this implement. I believe there’s even a health code prohibition of some sort regarding the infamous “foot cutter.”
But in the privacy of one’s home – well – I figured that I, Kate the Safety Dog, could control any infection concerns and follow all crucial instructions. When I got home with the item I found this to be a tad more difficult that I’d expected. For example, here’s one of the items under the heading “Direction”:
- Grab the handle and slice off the corn, callous or hard skin smoothly just like get a shave.
I pondered “just like get a shave” for a bit (as we all know my experience in this area is rather lacking). So quite a while ago, I used my “foot cutter” for the first time. I was tentative at first. I have disgustingly thick calluses on the balls of my feet and my heels as I am wont to gad about barefoot all the time. My left foot, in particular, has this amazing callus that’s about an inch thick on the ball of my foot, because I once ripped a huge, deep flap of skin open on this portion of my foot by catching it on the head of a nail (PEOPLE – when you take up the carpet to expose the hardwood floors again – a sound aesthetic choice – you have to CHANGE the tack strips so that they aren’t too high and don’t have FEET HAZARDS). Anyhoo, after this apt reminder to get a tetanus shot (and being ridiculed by a medical student for my, perhaps, over-zealous bandaging), my left foot healed with this bizarre, extra, EXTRA-dense callus. After a while, I blithely began to peel my feet like pedicure potatoes. What fun! Then, as you might conjecture, I got – shall we say – carried away. I discovered that the “foot cutter” is not called the “toe cutter” for a reason. Oh, it WILL very easily cut a toe; it will practically amputate a small one. It’s just that, PERHAPS, one is not intended to slice portions of one’s toes clean off. And yes, I did. This tool has a “sharp long lasting blade made in Germany,” so it was a nice clean cut. It then seemed like a good time to put the “foot cutter” away for a while.
Today, however, I got this overwhelming pedicurial hankering. I got out all my minty-fresh pedicure soaks and lotions and brushes and pumice wands and such. Then I thought, “If I avoid my toes I should be just fine with the ‘foot cutter.'” I carefully put in a clean, sharp blade. I warily proceded “just like get a shave.” And for a while, I was perfectly competent. Huzzah! Peeling strips of skin galore – disgusting, perhaps, but simultaneously gratifying. I did avoid my toes altogether. Unfortunately, I did not remind myself of the section of the “foot cutter” package entitled “Warning”:
- Very sharp implement, keep it beyond children’s reach.
- Not to be used on wounded or injured skin.
- Please cover blade and store in a clean dry place when not in use to avoid injury.
- The blade has a very sharp edge, so use it with caution when replacing.
- If the consumer used it strongly or by compulsion, it can be injured to your feet.
- Use gently to avoid any type of injury.
Ah. Six statements, each with either the word “sharp,” “injury,” or BOTH, that in essence assert that the “foot cutter” is, without a doubt, a deadly weapon that should probably be regulated and licensed (I figure I would not qualify for this license – I’d pass the written test, but the practical test – ooh boy). “Cutting” straight to the point (ha ha ha?); I sliced a substantial chunk out of the side of my left foot (a nice CLEAN chunk…). I then proceeded to stick my foot back in the bathtub full of very warm water. This makes for an impressive amount of bleeding from a wound that is neither life nor limb-threatening. Whoops. I admit – I had, perchance, “used it strongly or by compulsion,” and “it can [and WAS] be injured to your feet.” Yes, a “foot cutter” does, undeniably, cut your foot. Thank you, Battalia, for your honest advertising.
Cheese thought du jour:
Cheese – milk’s leap toward immortality. (Clifton Fadiman (1904 – ))
That should really make the bovine population think.
I have to brag about the immense cuteness of my new niece. Here are a couple of recent shots from Purple Monkey Dishwasher:
I guess only the most excellent and perfect swimmers survived your youthful experiments, Charles.
Naturally, Grettir fixed the world. Hallelujah and many, many thanks to him!
Now, feedback please. The stripes were my idea, and I cannot decide if they are festive or if they add a “Circus Headache” sort of vibe to what was a rather subtle design (with calming blue colours).
In other words, is my bedroom too small for these stripes? (Sorry – that reference is just for Ashley and Charles.)
You are not mistaken; I am indeed blog tweaking. It all started a few weeks ago when I decided to “streamline” my categories. I accomplished this, naturally, by deleting one category, adding approximately thirteen more and then just flinging entries about left and right.
Well, lauds and honours and all wondrous rewards to the Mighty Guru of all Computerish and Many Other Things, Grettir the Strong (and brave and PATIENT). He rescued my disastrous attempt at a theme change with “Style-catcher.” Beware of comprehensive plug-ins, say I!! Then he helped me tweak bunches and bunches of things. He even tried to rescue my purple (I spent hours futzing with it and got so overwhelmed with it that I just pasted an original style-sheet over it). Unfortunately, since I am a messer-upper extraordinaire, I didn’t realize that I had two style template windows open and I saved changes to the WRONG ONE, thus undoing all his nice purpling and professional tweaking. Tomorrow, when my eyes don’t hurt from comparing “browser-safe” hex codes and background patterns (that I now DETEST) I shall try to make my cheese pretty.
The funny thing about the purple is that I used it in the first place because I insist on having this banner at the top of every page:
And since purple is the complimentary color of yellow….
It’s a good thing I’m only selectively anal compulsive.
So few moments in my life have combined an object that I like with so many others I admire therefore creating a mélange of ABSOLUTE ENCHANTMENT. Thank you, Charles, for sending me notice of this, a phenomenal miracle that combines:
It’s all HERE, at The Church of The Flying Spaghetti Monster.
That covers the awe and religiosity and pirates and so on. Now for the SCIENCE.
And here it is, broken down into its raw form::
Lastly, there is just the one, truly important question to be asked:
You know they have that sign that says “no shoes, no shirt, no service,” – but they don’t say anything about no pants.
It’s official. Here’s my beautiful new niece:
Paisley Laura Bartholomew
Born October 1, 2005 at 5:17 p.m.
Eight Pounds, Thirteen Ounces, Twenty-One Inches
And she doesn’t look the least bit like Mao Tse-tung or Winston Churchill. As for the extra inch, the tentacles and the laser beam, Charles claims that they were evolutionary analogues or homologues, but I believe he may have meant vestigial characteristics. Either way, it’s very scientific. Moreover, I believe that Paisley may still have these “bonus features” and Charles and Ashley intend to keep this fact secret so that wee Paisley can dwell in safety and relative normalcy until the time she must take over the safeguarding of the Earth as TENTACLE WOMAN.
More very darling pictures of Tentacle Woman – whoops – I mean Paisley are available on Charles and Ashley’s Blog.
This is, I must say, the most introspective commentary I’ve heard thus far regarding my brother becoming a dad:
Charles as a father, though, that’s like pondering the boundaries of the universe, or Aristotle’s “unmoved mover,” or something like that. It’s blowing my mind.
🙂 Just kidding. He’ll be great, I’m sure.
I unquestionably concur. Charles and Ashley will be wonderful parents; they have the ideal blend of whimsy and dementia and patience and smarts and compassion and all that other crap.