Scratch scratch scratch. What could that be? Pants chaffing? Someone grating cheese? No, no, it’s Ant picking at her fucking scab. Again. Almost compulsively.
(Actually, there’s no almost about it.)
The woman went for a run two weeks ago, as she posted on her blog, and fell on the road in front of her high school. Now a big fat fuck-off scab obliterates the offending knee.
Peas: (whilst watching Grey’s Anatomy.) Would you please refrain from picking your scab.
The Ant: I can’t help it. It’s driving me crazy, it’s itchy as all hell.
Peas: You’re dropping pieces of scab on the carpet.
The Ant: Don’t worry, the maid’s coming next week. Plus, it’s not like you to be concerned about things like scabs. On the floor.
(She peels off a large piece of scab and flicks it into the ashtray.)
The Ant: There, are you happy?
Peas: At least the windows are sparkling.
The Ant carries on picking…and flicking.
Peas: Dude, I’m gonna light your scab.
The Ant: With what? The toaster?
Peas: Bring your knee to the armrest. Now.
The Ant: No. Fuck off.
Peas: Crap. The maid fucking took it back to the kitchen! Wait. I have a lighter. I’m going to ignite your scab, show me your knee!
The Ant: No you crazy bastard. You’re not lighting anything that’s attached to my body. Unless…you wanna light my fire baby.
And then we graunched and went to bed.
14 comments:
And then we graunched and went to bed.
Really? Scabs and all? ;-)
This isn't the beginning of what is called a scabby relationship, is it?
Sorry Peas, I haven't read for a while.. are you lesbian now? That is what graunch means isin't it?
Ha ha ah, no chaps.
I have to admit that the last line is a downright lie.
:)
Ant and I were in hysterics last night thinking about having the blogwrold on. But I can't do it forever. So in a nutshell:
1) We aren't a lesbian couple.
2) We didn't graunch last night or any other night barring Friday.
3) She has a boyfriend.
4) I have a pretend boyfreind. The Bushwhacker 3 000.
Sorry, it was just too tempting to write that! :)
PS: We're both still as straight as bargepoles.
The unions will be pleased that you're taking a stand against the scourge of scabs.
Kyk - yes they will. Her scab scratching is something else.
Perhaps the filimenti of the scab gave me 'flu. Cos today I feel like SHAIT. I think I'm going to go home now and sulk and be sick in my bed...
IN fact. Affirmative. I'm going home.
Um, hi. Yes, I have a scab, yes I feel the need to scratch/pick it, yes it's disgusting and no, that won't stop me!
Shortypam, that's downright evil! But, the good news is, I got most of it last night!
Somehow I thought that was the case...
"And then we graunched and went to bed"
If you went to the same bed it may be construed as being lesbian, if not, it's simply just a goodnight kiss, albeit with a bit of tongue, but then a bit of tongue never hurt anyone.
Sigh - There goes that fantasy
beauty - thanks for that image...sort of.
TR, TWA and Peas: was so lovely to see/meet you last week. So sorry not to catch up again, but see you all in April! Happy Wednesday...
i have to admit, as much as i try and avoid it, i also derive pleasure in picking scabs off, sometime desparetly seeking relief from the itch below it - and also a more socially acceptable aternative to picking your nose in public
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