15 points
The Callouses on Your Hands by Hortvald Inki
April 28th, 2010 6:09 PM
Everywhere I've gone, everywhere I've been, everything I've done, everything I've touched, everything I've seen...
I've got a marks on my body everywhere for everything possible. Burned, scratched, stung, slapped, sucked, bruised, gashed, conked, bonked, flocked, docked, and cut. Well, and calloused.
Here is my left thumb, it looks ok now, but whizzle back about two years ago, it would have appeared, scarred, burned, missing skin and nothing but white flesh. Oh, what I could say about it. When young, starcrossed lovers were attempting to bake a cake laced with booze, but oh the humanity, we didn't realize. I mean, those starcrossed ex-lovers didn't realize that the oven didn't have a properly functioning oven regulator. By that, what was supposed to be 350 degrees, turned out to be 800 degrees. I figured out later, setting it to 130 would make it jump all the way to 848. Even burning an oven thermometer. Rather dashing it all.
Here's my back, right shoulder. Said the shoulder "I may be a cancerous carcinoma!" So upon a visit to the good old doc and he said, let's cut it out and figure out what it is. Twas painful, and yes, the mole was 6mm in size. Wikipedia says the average should be around 2mm. Yikes. Stitched up and repreived, I rolled around in bed trying my best not to scratch the ever endearing stitch. Just of note, when the who took it out said: "There's only two stitches". I recall the doctor who put it in saying "I'll just put in four." Then the call came: It's not cancer.
Look at my elbows, skinned and shorn of its skinlike fleece. From plenty of accidents, bike and scooters. I've lost skin in Alameda, Berkeley, Oakland and San Francisco. Getting stuck in the middle of the circles at critical mass, being shoved over in polo games, and just falling over while hooked into my fixie while waiting at a stoplight.
Same thing goes for the knees.
A suck mark, from the era of my childhood. About the size of a token.
Here's one last one, somewhat of a self inflicted one. Still fresh from the kills made by Tony.
I've got a marks on my body everywhere for everything possible. Burned, scratched, stung, slapped, sucked, bruised, gashed, conked, bonked, flocked, docked, and cut. Well, and calloused.
Here is my left thumb, it looks ok now, but whizzle back about two years ago, it would have appeared, scarred, burned, missing skin and nothing but white flesh. Oh, what I could say about it. When young, starcrossed lovers were attempting to bake a cake laced with booze, but oh the humanity, we didn't realize. I mean, those starcrossed ex-lovers didn't realize that the oven didn't have a properly functioning oven regulator. By that, what was supposed to be 350 degrees, turned out to be 800 degrees. I figured out later, setting it to 130 would make it jump all the way to 848. Even burning an oven thermometer. Rather dashing it all.
Here's my back, right shoulder. Said the shoulder "I may be a cancerous carcinoma!" So upon a visit to the good old doc and he said, let's cut it out and figure out what it is. Twas painful, and yes, the mole was 6mm in size. Wikipedia says the average should be around 2mm. Yikes. Stitched up and repreived, I rolled around in bed trying my best not to scratch the ever endearing stitch. Just of note, when the who took it out said: "There's only two stitches". I recall the doctor who put it in saying "I'll just put in four." Then the call came: It's not cancer.
Look at my elbows, skinned and shorn of its skinlike fleece. From plenty of accidents, bike and scooters. I've lost skin in Alameda, Berkeley, Oakland and San Francisco. Getting stuck in the middle of the circles at critical mass, being shoved over in polo games, and just falling over while hooked into my fixie while waiting at a stoplight.
Same thing goes for the knees.
A suck mark, from the era of my childhood. About the size of a token.
Here's one last one, somewhat of a self inflicted one. Still fresh from the kills made by Tony.