Mortymoose
Honorary Master
Tell me you don't pick your nose!
Go on, tell me that not even covertly when you are alone in a room and you feel that lump, that rock, that gunk forming in your nasal cavity that you don't feel like a poke!
Left unattended, it starts to attract other particles, growing in size over the coming hours, it starts to obstruct your breathing, forcing you to take gasps through your open mouth....
You tried a tissue, you blasted a shot of air down that tube to no avail...... it felt like it was glued to your insides, suffocating your meek way of life...
Tissue after tissue, blow after blow, scratching the soft nasal tissue.....
Eventually you had enough and retired to a solitary corner, turned your back and stuck your finger into your cavity....
"Aaaaaagh!", you feel a sense of accomplishment as you manage to hook the corner of the barbed bogey to your dirty short fingernail.... with the skill of a fly fisherman you start to tug gently at first, perhaps losing the grip and retrying..... eventually you feel it release it's hold on your raw tissue, you start to extract...... the feeling, so satisfying as it makes it's appearance to the world, like a firstborn baby....
Then.........
You lose it, as if it was vaporised, it was not on or in your nose, not on your hand or finger....... it was just GONE!!!!
You rush to a nearby mirror,scanning your shirt, your hair, like a scene from , "What about Mary?", you panic, "Where the feck did it go?", you think unto yourself.....
Eventually you have to go, spending the rest of the day observing people talking to you, in case they spot that man made piece of gel...
This happened to The Moose yesterday........
That evening, I went to bed, the bogey out of my mind, laying on my side, I rested my weary head on my pillow , the room in darkness, save for a shimmer of light flowing through the crack on the dark curtains, my eyes adjusting to the rock that lay a mere 2 inches from my eyeball...... resting ever so carefully on my pillow..........
/slow day at work, Moose felt like typing...
Go on, tell me that not even covertly when you are alone in a room and you feel that lump, that rock, that gunk forming in your nasal cavity that you don't feel like a poke!
Left unattended, it starts to attract other particles, growing in size over the coming hours, it starts to obstruct your breathing, forcing you to take gasps through your open mouth....
You tried a tissue, you blasted a shot of air down that tube to no avail...... it felt like it was glued to your insides, suffocating your meek way of life...
Tissue after tissue, blow after blow, scratching the soft nasal tissue.....
Eventually you had enough and retired to a solitary corner, turned your back and stuck your finger into your cavity....
"Aaaaaagh!", you feel a sense of accomplishment as you manage to hook the corner of the barbed bogey to your dirty short fingernail.... with the skill of a fly fisherman you start to tug gently at first, perhaps losing the grip and retrying..... eventually you feel it release it's hold on your raw tissue, you start to extract...... the feeling, so satisfying as it makes it's appearance to the world, like a firstborn baby....
Then.........
You lose it, as if it was vaporised, it was not on or in your nose, not on your hand or finger....... it was just GONE!!!!
You rush to a nearby mirror,scanning your shirt, your hair, like a scene from , "What about Mary?", you panic, "Where the feck did it go?", you think unto yourself.....
Eventually you have to go, spending the rest of the day observing people talking to you, in case they spot that man made piece of gel...
This happened to The Moose yesterday........
That evening, I went to bed, the bogey out of my mind, laying on my side, I rested my weary head on my pillow , the room in darkness, save for a shimmer of light flowing through the crack on the dark curtains, my eyes adjusting to the rock that lay a mere 2 inches from my eyeball...... resting ever so carefully on my pillow..........
/slow day at work, Moose felt like typing...
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