The world can just come to an end right now.
Sir Edmund Hillary doing an SUV commercial. What the *fuck* is up with that? How could he? HOW COULD HE?
Wow. David says ten members of his family have died from cancer since we left high school. He suspects the pesticides. I think he can skip "suspect" and go straight to "know beyond a shadow of a doubt."
It is so true that facial cuts bleed profusely.
The Son of Beast slid across my face right after I'd crawled into bed last night. Yelling, I instantly pressed both hands to my face because I thought she had hit my right eye. No...I guess my eye is okay, so I take that hand away. But...why does my left hand feel funny?
I pulled my hand away from my face, looked at the blood, and put it back against my face. Repeated the whole sequence. And did it again. Am I bleeding? I'm bleeding. I'm bleeding! I'm *really* bleeding! Blood running down my face, blood pooling in my palm and running down my wrist. I kept saying, "I'm bleeding," and Catherine kept saying, "I know," until I finally said, "Are you going to help me or anything?" and she went for a towel saying, "Well, I kept waiting for you to get out of bed!"
Good idea. So, I got up and tried to keep the blood away from everything until I could bleed in the bathroom. So there I am, bleeding through my fingers into the sink bowl, and it occurs to me...you know, I don't feel very good. Maybe I should sit down.
It did eventually stop bleeding, and Catherine covered it up w/a bandage and some neosporin, worrying that everyone is going to start thinking that she beats on me. It's not a very large cut, maybe only 1/2" (but "remarkably razor-like" according to C.), and it didn't really hurt that much, but it's a little disconcerting to feel and see blood spilling all over the place. I've had some good cat scratches (for instance, the time Jack gouged my forearm w/his back feet while "playing"), but I've never had one quite so gory before.
What a little demon.