Thursday, June 19th, 2008 01:13 pm
the feet that time forgot
For reference, expect for the next week to ten days, I will be grumpy. And no, not in a productive porn way that ends in strange kinks, but in a listless way where I generally feel a vague desire to wreck havoc by leaving my shoes on the floor and not doing dishes in a timely manner. This may or may not combine with staring resentfully at my website and muttering about a nice black background with lime green text. I am just in that place in my life.
(ETA: Ah. It's my period. That explains the half-pound chocolate bar I had to buy and the beef jerky I'm consuming by the bag. Okay, probably four to eight days, then, before zen is reacheived.)
However. The Mystery of the Feet is bothering me on a variety of levels. Mostly due to this:
- There is no evidence that any of the first four feet were forcibly removed.
I'm sorry. I must have missed this part of biology, where feet do indeed resemble Bratz characters. What does that even mean they weren't forcibly removed? They walked away from their legs? No fault divorce? Sudden, inexplicable, religion-creating immaculate feet birth (complete with cross-trainers?). How in the name of God do feet disattach without assistance? I mean, basically, are they saying six feet (just one of a pair, like what, there was a foot flamewar and one flounced in a way that's exceedingly unusual) randomly rotted off their attached leg (ewww) and then went for a cool swim? Without the other foot (see flamewar)? Or a rash of one legged people in running shoes died and their feet all decomposed together, or--
--or really. Really. I understand investigation in progress, but this feels like the beginning of a very strange fantasy novel where someone, somewhere, is doing some kind of obscure human sacrifice and oh! Oh! This would totally be an Anita Blake thing. Totally. With feet. Zombie feet.
Oh wow, what if these are zombie feet? Rock on.
And that concludes my creepy theory on the feet. I shall now continue my mild and uninteresting sulk about the universe not bending to my will and abuse of parentheses for fun and confusion.
(ETA: Ah. It's my period. That explains the half-pound chocolate bar I had to buy and the beef jerky I'm consuming by the bag. Okay, probably four to eight days, then, before zen is reacheived.)
However. The Mystery of the Feet is bothering me on a variety of levels. Mostly due to this:
- There is no evidence that any of the first four feet were forcibly removed.
I'm sorry. I must have missed this part of biology, where feet do indeed resemble Bratz characters. What does that even mean they weren't forcibly removed? They walked away from their legs? No fault divorce? Sudden, inexplicable, religion-creating immaculate feet birth (complete with cross-trainers?). How in the name of God do feet disattach without assistance? I mean, basically, are they saying six feet (just one of a pair, like what, there was a foot flamewar and one flounced in a way that's exceedingly unusual) randomly rotted off their attached leg (ewww) and then went for a cool swim? Without the other foot (see flamewar)? Or a rash of one legged people in running shoes died and their feet all decomposed together, or--
--or really. Really. I understand investigation in progress, but this feels like the beginning of a very strange fantasy novel where someone, somewhere, is doing some kind of obscure human sacrifice and oh! Oh! This would totally be an Anita Blake thing. Totally. With feet. Zombie feet.
Oh wow, what if these are zombie feet? Rock on.
And that concludes my creepy theory on the feet. I shall now continue my mild and uninteresting sulk about the universe not bending to my will and abuse of parentheses for fun and confusion.
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From:...yes, I really did need to share that image. Pain shared is pain halved~!
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From:....also, eww. So much ewww. God, the eww.
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From:I think that if I'd known when I was younger that this is what I would one day become--that is, someone who considers the chemical/physical properties of zombie sex slime--I might've committed prevantive seppuku. Really, self? Really? This is what we do with ourselves?
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From:So not surprised. *sighs* Zombie penis, now. *That* would be a surprise. And a cool one! But deeply nightmare inducing.
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From:I hadn't ever heard of honey-as-lube, though. That sounds about as brilliant as blood.
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From:*TWITCH*
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From:No, really.
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From:...and boy, I never thought that was a sentence I'd type.
On the other hand, with this sixth foot, it looks like it may have been cut off. Yipes.
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From:*leaves chocolate tithing*
*vanishes*
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From:*grabs for chocolate*
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From:*cleans up snorfed tea from keyboard/monitor/desk*
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From:See? I'm not making sense, so it's only partially.
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From:Dammit. That would be awesome.
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From:Though I quite like the idea of zombie feet now that you mention it. Toooeeeess.
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From:perhaps a revival of
FootlooseFootless?(- reply to this
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From:(I've been trying to avoid the feet news, although CNN.com has made it EXTREMELY DIFFICULT)
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From:A group of exercise types got together and went for a Really Fun Hike! Unfortunately, in the process of Really Fun Hike! they got themselves stranded in a sea cave from which there is no escape but a hole leading out to the beach just big enough for a foot or hand to fit through. One of the hikers dies. In desperation after a few days of of sitting on ledges in the sea cave with their dead hiker companion, one hiker says, "Hey! John's family gave him those shoes right before we left, so they know what his shoes look like! They live just down there on the shore! I will send them a reason to look for John and they'll find us..."
"But the shoe will sink!" says another hiker, who everyone else thinks is smart, but he really isn't. He's very much not smart. "You need to put something in it to make it float!"
After much debate, they agree that the foot will work, never realizing that the foot would have been the yummy part to the ocean, and the shoe the floaty part. They have no cutting or sawing utensils, so they spend an hour or two lodging the corpse's foot in the hole and then yanking the rest of the body backward until it at last tears off and goes kerplop outside.
Another couple days pass. Someone else dies. Close, damp, and loud quarters, a footless dead man's increasing odor, their own odor, and realizing they're all going to die creates a sense of delusion. Next thing you know, there's only a couple people left alive and they start tearing off the other dead hikers' feet.
Naturally, none of the feet make it to John's family. Instead, they go willy-nilly around the ocean for a time, then down the coast to a different beach thanks to currents, and everyone makes a hub-bub about it on the news. By this time, the hikers-in-the-sea-cave are all long gone.
...I have very detailed and freaking insane dreams.
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From:And I've had lime-green (well, grass-green) text on a black background on my LJ for years. But I'm funny that why -- white backgrounds on a computer screen are just too bright. Light text against black is more comfortable.
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