That 1 Guy has a theory concerning the origins of the Lenten season - something with which we Jews have little truck.
I cannot vouch for the plausibility of his story, but it did get me to thinking.
“Why,” thought I, “here is a Vile Substance that I have not yet posted about!”
Indeed. For ever since the earliest days, when Web-Logs were hyphenated and carved on individual waxen tablets by highly trained and dexterous Midget Scribes, intrepid Online Journalists have been unafraid to tackle Noxious Matters.
There is no shortage of Shitbloggage in the ’Sphere. For that matter, you don’t have to engage too much search engine horsepower to find bloggers writing about pretty much every other rank Bodily Secretion known to mankind.
Urine, Nasal Mucus, Ear Wax - you’ll find it all in Bloggy-World. [Hell - you’ll find it all right on this site. And it’s only a matter of time before I fill in the gaps and add a few posts on vomit, lymph, pus, and blood.]
But until now, I have never thought to plumb the mysteries of Navel Lint.
Let us be perfectly honest. Is there a single soul among us Innies who has not dug in that old Belly-Button with a fingertip, thereby to dig out a rich harvest of lint?
And not just lint. Lint with soul. Belly button lint bears as much resemblance to, say, Dryer Lint as the gemlike Sweet-Potatoes that grow in one’s ears bear to the mass-produced paraffin wax beloved of the candle industry. It’s the difference between microbrewed ale and Coors Light, between Château d’Yquem and jug wine.
Belly button lint is funky.
Let us again be perfectly honest. Is there a single soul among us Innies who has not dug in that old Belly-Button with a fingertip, thereby to dig out a rich harvest of lint...and who has not taken a surreptitious little whiff of that lint? ’Course not. It’d be like a pig turning up his nose at a truffle.
You Outies...why, you do not know what you are missing. And I, for one, am not about to show ya.
I cannot vouch for the plausibility of his story, but it did get me to thinking.
“Why,” thought I, “here is a Vile Substance that I have not yet posted about!”
Indeed. For ever since the earliest days, when Web-Logs were hyphenated and carved on individual waxen tablets by highly trained and dexterous Midget Scribes, intrepid Online Journalists have been unafraid to tackle Noxious Matters.
There is no shortage of Shitbloggage in the ’Sphere. For that matter, you don’t have to engage too much search engine horsepower to find bloggers writing about pretty much every other rank Bodily Secretion known to mankind.
Urine, Nasal Mucus, Ear Wax - you’ll find it all in Bloggy-World. [Hell - you’ll find it all right on this site. And it’s only a matter of time before I fill in the gaps and add a few posts on vomit, lymph, pus, and blood.]
But until now, I have never thought to plumb the mysteries of Navel Lint.
Let us be perfectly honest. Is there a single soul among us Innies who has not dug in that old Belly-Button with a fingertip, thereby to dig out a rich harvest of lint?
And not just lint. Lint with soul. Belly button lint bears as much resemblance to, say, Dryer Lint as the gemlike Sweet-Potatoes that grow in one’s ears bear to the mass-produced paraffin wax beloved of the candle industry. It’s the difference between microbrewed ale and Coors Light, between Château d’Yquem and jug wine.
Belly button lint is funky.
Let us again be perfectly honest. Is there a single soul among us Innies who has not dug in that old Belly-Button with a fingertip, thereby to dig out a rich harvest of lint...and who has not taken a surreptitious little whiff of that lint? ’Course not. It’d be like a pig turning up his nose at a truffle.
You Outies...why, you do not know what you are missing. And I, for one, am not about to show ya.
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