Saturday, January 24, 2009

Yesterday, January twenty-fourth, 2009,

a date which will live in infamy, our epidermis was suddenly and deliberately attacked by histamine and cytokine forces of the Empire of Urticaria. We will not be driven by scratching into an age of dermatographism if we remember that we are not descended from fearful sebaceous glands. We shall defend our skin, whatever the cost may be, we shall fight in the stratum basale, we shall fight in the stratum spinosum, we shall fight in the stratum granulosum and in the stratum licidum, we shall fight in the stratum corneum;we shall never surrender. That, and we're going to stay out of the swimming pool at the Jones Center for a while.

The Urticarians can kiss my rosy-red ass!


Anonymous said...

Was that the Brian Jones swimming pool? He, Brian Jones, was found dead in his pool, so I think it's quite cynical to name a pool after him. It's angering the Gods... and they took it out on your behind. Sorry about that.


p.s. I laughed (more about the glory hole even).

Dave Mows Grass said...

Different Jones, but I get your point. I'm also glad you think my rash is funny. I got the same rash last Saturday (kayak roll practice session) so there's no complaining this week after I went back for more of the dog that bit me. I'll probably get the same rash next Saturday when I go back again. So far, it's been less annoying than the ice cream headaches I get practicing my rolls in Beaver Lake (at about 4 degrees centigrade). Plus there's the whole hypothermia thing. I could do without that!

Hi Martijn!