Corn is having his FOURTH knee surgery tomorrow. This guy's knees snap like candycanes every few months. Remember how Barbie could bend her knees both ways? Yeah - Corn is convinced he'll be able to do it one of these days. He tore a ligament called the meniscus last week, doing light squats (ironically to strengthen his lower body). The surgery tomorrow isn't as bad as ACL surgery (he's had 2), and the recovery time is much shorter. So, that's good. I wonder if the painkillers will make him as high as the ones did last time around. He spent the first few days in a drug-induced purple haze last year. I messed with his mind by painting myself green and walking around with a Ronald Regan halloween mask. I'm not sure he noticed.
Meanwhile back at the ranch..nothing torn on me, except the opinion (mine) about whether or not to cut my hair and THAT decision was made today as I sat in Marion's chair at LaCoupe. It's short again! Actually, not super short, it's just above the shoulders. But it was PAST my shoulders and really becoming a pain in the ass before. So, ahhhh....I feel better.
Say friends, ever shave your feet? I don't mean hair on your big toe (you KNOW you have it!), I mean skin. I realize how gross that sounds - and friends, it is! The tub aftermath is certainly chilling (Skin Flakes--not just for breakfast anymore!), but I have been doing this to my feet for about a year now when I don't have time for a real pedicure. Pharmacies sell these little razor blade dealies for shaving dead skin off your feet and dagnabbit, I LOVE 'em! I remove so much dead skin off my feet on a regular basis, I could make a whole other me with the shavin's. I'm certain I go down at least 2 shoe sizes. Hannibal Lector could re-apholster his entire living room set, nevermind a lampshade.
If I had a pedicure shop, that's what I'd call it. But I'd spell it Fut Shavens (with those 2 little dots above the 'u') to make it cooler. Or to make people think they were going to a subsidiary of Ikea. I wouldn't sell furniture, but when customers came in the door, I'd throw scalding hot swedish meatballs at them.
And call them Aspelund.