Tuesday, August 10, 2010

I Am Alive. Barely.

As I have mentioned on many past occasions, I spend a decent amount of time in my kitchen, and not just because that is the room of the apartment which contains the designated Catan table. As a result of this, combined with my eternal absent-mindedness (Which I also hold responsible for the fact that anytime I hold a marker for over thirty seconds, half its ink winds up on my hands), I am usually dealing with between three and five minor hand injuries at any given time, ranging from slight burns to small cuts, which are prevented from becoming large cuts primarily by the fact that my knives were all ridiculously cheap due to the fact that they are slightly less sharp than Mark Twain's wit (Present-day dead version). So it is no real surprise that last night I suffered a cut on my thumb. However, the specifics are slightly out of the ordinary. I was not cut by a knife, you see. Rather, my knife performed its primary job (Not cutting me) admirably. My thumb was cut by a carrot.

Like this. But evil.
Okay, maybe just like this.

How did I manage this?, you may well ask yourself. And was the cruel perpetrator captured, sauteed with dill and served with catfish? The answers are, respectively, that I was evidently holding the foul vegetable with the point of my thumb on the cutting board when my knifework caused the carrot to slide, making me bleed a bit from under the nail, and it's kind of creepy that you knew that much. I have got to start closing my blinds at night.



your mom said...

Is that man wearing pantyhose?!?! No wonder he's evil: pantyhose are the Devil! :S

your mom said...

I checked anyway :)