Whoa! Didja get the numbers off that truck?!?


September 17, 2003 - 11:13 p.m.

I have a strike-breaker on my arm

Ha. I kill me.

Remember the days when you’d get too much sun and you’d burn and then a week later you’d experience the joys of peeling large sheets of dead skin off your person? Or maybe you were lucky and someone else would indulge your desire to peel?

Kinda makes your mouth water just thinking about it, doesn’t it?

I spent the weekend with the gardenangel. A big-ass bandage on your arm does not seem romantic or even attractive, but I wasn’t thinking about it much.

On Sunday I was giving it my usual cleaning with lots of soap and running water. I do this before applying the big gobs of marshmallow fluff that is the Silvadene. Hmmm, this is interesting, I thought. Look… it’s… coming… off! Whole sheets of the thick brown dead stuff were coming off, as if I’d gotten sunburned in Hell! At one point, the skin hanging off near my wrist was sort of like a grisly bracelet. It was still attached on either side, but hung down in the force of the warm water. There is probably a high school kid somewhere with blacked out eyelids and spikes in his ears and wearing a Slipknot shirt who would probably kill for a look like that. Too bad dude, down the drain it goes. You wouldn’t want to experience the pain I felt, for a look like that anyhow.

And beneath the brown dead skin, now washed away? Brand new pink pristine un-blistered flesh! Like a baby chick it was, moist and bewildered. I ran to the gardenangel. “Look look!” I said “New flesh!” It was Christmas morning and I had gotten a new arm under the tree. Still concerned, she was pleased too with my happy discovery. Silvadene is indeed the wonder drug.

I still have a big ol’ nasty scab right on my wrist. That must have been the point of impact of the 200 degree anti-freeze as it shot out of the recovery tank and changed my whole week. Of course it’s right on the flexy part and it’s very unflexible. I study it a lot, glare at it, and will it to be smaller. It’s obeying me. The new skin is still pink, a sharp contrast to the tanned rest of my arm. Maybe it’ll stay that way all winter, wouldn’t that be cool? An engine coolant tattoo, nobody has one of those! Bitchin’ tattoo dude, where’d you get it?

Under the ‘hood, man.







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