WARNING: I KNOW SOME OF YOUSE TEND TO READ ME WHILE YOU’RE EATING BREAKFAST. TODAY IS NOT THE DAY TO DO THAT.
I have had what may in fact be The World’s Most Grossest Morning. Seriously, when you start your day desperately trying not to throw up, it’s gonna be a doozy.
First of all, my who-has-an-outdoor-wedding-at-high-noon-in-9,000-degree-heat sunburn is now PEELING. Now, this is probably very weird, but in my 34 (and counting) years on this here ball of rock, I have NEVER peeled. I either tan so dark that people ask why Dear Sweet Mama has so many pictures of a little black girl… or I skip ahead to an itchy, bumpy rash. There was no middle ground. Until now.
And although I was COMPLETELY. FRICKIN’. FASCINATED. (and somewhat disgusted) by the girl in my band class in junior high who would peel off big strips of her sunburn AND EAT IT, I really could have done without this experience for myself. But now the area where my shoulders meet my neck (my noulder? sheck?) is coming off in strips. And there’s some sort of LIQUID involved, I don’t know where it’s coming from but I’m not gonna think about it.
So as if waking up as a leper wasn’t bad enough, when I went to put my jeans on this morning, I discovered that I had been the victim of a Nefarious Kitten Plot. You see, I do not wash my jeans every single time I wear them unless I get sweaty or grubby — so this pair was lying on the bed, waiting to be called back to action. I picked them up and pulled them on… and then I felt something WET and LUMPY in the vicinity of my ass…
Yes, the goddamn kittens whucked up a hairball IN MY PANTS… then somehow hid it so I wouldn’t see it until it was too late. And this WOULD happen on the one day that I could only find thong underwear…
PS — Check it out! CJ and the kittehs are totally on Thunder Thursday this week! I couldn’t be more proud! <<sniff>>
hoodyhoo 
omg. I am going to bookmark this and read it every time I think I’ve had a bad morning. hysterical. disgusting, but hysterical.
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Thanks! I try to walk the fine line between “throwing up” and “peeing your pants laughing!”
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Oh my – bad kittehs. That is so much worse than stepping on a chewed rawhide in the dark. But I don’t know if it is worse than stepping in Thor baby’s leavings in the dark before he was housebroke. Either way – EEEEWWWWW!!!
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There’s just something about that moment that you step in it… you KNOW what it is, but you don’t want to CONFIRM it…
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I’m the sort of person who LOVES peeling sunburns. So that part wasn’t gross to me. The eating it thing is a bit weird. I usually like to spread out the pieces on my hand and examine the texture. “Wow, skin!”
I’ve never been the recipient of a hairball (luck or shorthaired cats, not sure). I also don’t wear thong underwear. Oh, I own it. I just put it on and immediately think of other things to wear.
My barometer for gross is kid puke. Anything less than kid puke is merely a reminder from the universe that hey — that could have been kid puke. Be grateful. And I am.
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I’m pretty certain we are related …kid puke is the absolute WORST!!! Like can’t handle it makes me gag worst… peeling skin is fine! I’m all good with skin!
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I’ve been kinda looking at my peelings, wondering why they no longer look or feel like the skin still on my body does. And I am the Queen of the Sympathy Pukers — all I have to do is HEAR it, much less see it!
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Being that I am whiter then crisp new sheets I have been known to peel after I step out in the sun for a minute or two… Now the way to do this is to wear tank tops and peel it while talking to people… ask them to hold some until you can get to a garbage can to throw it out… or ask for a ride and throw your peeled skin in the console! People love that!! Now the cat vomit… I hear cats make good hash! Just sayin…
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STOP TRYING TO EAT THE CATS! : ) And I don’t trust anyone to hold my skin… voodoo, you know.
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I seem to go one way or the other with the sun. I either burn to a crisp, peel, and then go back to pasty white, or I burn to a crisp, and then brown like a perfectly roasted marshmallow.
And just wait until the kitties go a-hunting and bring you half a mouse, leaving it on your pillow like a miniature version of the Godfather.
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so far, all they’re hunting is the Mighty Gnat… at least I hope there’s a gnat. Otherwise, we’re haunted.
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I am so white I’m transparent (no, you can really see through my skin in places), I’m Irish, and my parents peel at the drop of a hat. BUT I don’t burn. And while I’m grateful, I am soooo jealous of peeling people. I love to peel. We used to hold my dad down and peel him…through a bunch of hair. Gross, I know, but so much fun!
I have stepped on my share of hairballs, but I’ve never had one in my clothes. And I’ll let you keep that honor.
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I’m jealous of people who get pimples they can pop and be done with. Mine never come up to a poppable point, so I just have a conjoined twin on my face for a week!
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Oh YARG! You poor thing! *shudder* Where did you say you adopted Satan’s kitties again?
Oh, the peeling. I used to get so dark people would walk up and speak Spanish to me. Seriously. Then I got a very bad, probably second degree burn, and blistered and peeled for weeks! Hopefully you’ll get your one peel out of the way and never eat your skin again.
Feel better, babe.
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Just to clarify — I DID NOT eat my skin. But I did think about it. Then I was worried I would like it and then what would I do?
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Ooooh. Liquid oozing? That’s a serious burn…
My dad swears by cloths soaked in vinegar on the area. You smell pickled but it feels good. Oh, and of course aloe…
Feel better!
Pearl
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I’ve put black salve on it and it’s getting better — the only problem is, now I’m kinda greasy and I can’t touch the furniture!
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The wet lumpy thing? Be glad it was “just” a hairball. At first I thought the kittens had left you something worse. Although now I’m going to be spending my day comparing the relative grossness of various substances that can come out of a kitten’s body. Another productive Friday!
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Oh, GACK. I guess I should count my blessings…
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Having just been adopted by a cute little stripy tabby, OC (Outside Cat), I was most unpleasantly surprised when I stepped outside in the dark in my stocking foot only to feel a cool, wet, squishy substance under my toes. I assumed it was a feline-produced yurp and I stepped back, holding toes up, and hopped back into the house. The toe of my sock was bloody! I assumed the worst. I raced back outside (turning on the light this time). It turns out that it was the entire innards of some previously-furred varmit. Then I pannicked a little more until I figured that it was too small to be OC’s. Then I looked around and found tufts of charcoal gray fur. The only thing I could think of was that it was the remnants of a mole, left as either an offering because OC thinks I’m such a lousy hunter that the only thing I can kill on my own is kibble, or it is a thank you gift from a grateful ex-orphan. Either way, stepping on wet, squishy makes the mind race.
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When I was a very little baby, we had a cat that would catch LIVE birds and bring them in the house and let them go. And Dear Sweet Mama would freak right out and the cat would be like, “What? How else is the baby gonna learn to hunt?”
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Ew! A hairball int he ass is NOT pleasant. I speak from experience. Wait, What? But eating the skin?! W. T, F. I can’t handle that.
I don’t know if you have it there, but go to the drug store and look for Solarcane. It’s a white bottle with blue and red on it and it’s a cream-like substance that is THE CURE for all things sunburn/rash/itchy spot. it is genius and you need some.
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Again, I DID NOT EAT THE SKIN! I do not need to be addicted to another hard-to-find taste sensation. I have some of the solarcaine spray but it’s in like a hair spray can and it BUUUUURNS!
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Sounds like a morning to go back to better…well, on the bright side, let’s hope it gets better. But you have me afraid to put on my pants and now I am going to be walking round all day naked!
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Try that with the nice policeman, “Honestly, Officer, I’m afraid to put on pants!”
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Eat sunburn peelings…excuse me, I need to go vomit.
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I KNOW, right? It was like a car wreck, you couldn’t NOT watch her do it…
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And *that’s* why you should never wear thongs.
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It was all I could find! Laundry is NOT my strong suit!
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