Ouch my toe!

The title refers to my very emotional outburst when I stubbed my little toe [1] (which I think is not exactly so little anymore) on a sharp corner and spent the next 48 hours limping around like Capt. Long John Silver, minus the crutch and the parrot. It’s amazing how a little toe can cause so much pain and anguish in my otherwise painless and anguishless life. The little bugger was swollen to two times it’s normal size and wouldn’t let me take a step without wincing when the pain shot up till my knee.

This is not the first time I stubbed my toe. No sire, it’s not. If you know me well, you’d also know my tryst with resistentialism. To tweak my long-long-ago-so-long-ago limerick,

Once there was a girl who was accident-prone –
Whatever she did, it always ended with her groan.
She stubbed her toe today,
Like she does everyday
It’s a pity resistentialism won’t leave her alone!

Now for the conspiracy theory: When this happened before, my allegations were pointed at the Chair and the Bed. And I was this close to actually proving that the Bed did not like me one bit. I mean, let’s face it – you stub you toe once, fine. Twice, fine. Thrice, well I have doubts. But the fourth time? And the fifth? I’m not blind, people! I can see things before I actually go bump into them and my policy in life has always been to never bump into the same thing twice. So the only other explanation to this painful incident is Mr.Bed [2]. The 6X6 wooden Goliath is taking on a poor hapless David aka me. Injustice, I tell you!

Just as I was on the verge of asking my husband to throw him out (and get me a new one, all at the risk of sounding highly insane and plain mental), I stub my toe on the door frame. The interesting thing here is that Ms.Door Frame is also made of wood, from a good teak lineage and has a really slim figure with a glossy polish – which Mr.Bed totally fancies. That cheating bag o’ wood hasn’t given a second thought to his wife, Mrs.Mattress and their Pillow kids. How awful, isn’t it? And Ms.Frame is so smitten by this 6×6-monster-with-a-fancy-bedstead that she had absolutely no qualms in going against the Door family and turning against me, me who owns the very marble and concrete on which she stays attached! Where is this world coming to, I ask you!

So, what’s gonna happen now? Nothing much. Mr.Bed and Ms.Frame are going to elope, leaving me sleeping on a weeping Mrs.Mattress, who’s now orphaned with two little Pillows. If this isn’t heart-rending, what is?!!!

There’s just no point rambling here on my blog when I have this grave a situation on my hands at home. I’ve declared a state of emergency, and any Door related activities can happen only with my prior approval. Mr.Bed has been considerably warned against carrying on with his nefarious doings – hopefully he understands that being dismantled is a very ugly thing to go through indeed. Ms.Frame has been let off this one time with a strict warning that anything like this again would mean 100 times of shutting the Door really hard into Ms.Frame. Mrs.Mattress keeps thanking me profusely everytime I walk into the room (with unstubbed toes, mind you), and the Pillows have been so well behaved that I decided to let them lie around on the bed for a day without being stuck to one position.

I’m still watching out for any new developments on this saga. And how will I know if something’s cookin’? Well, I still have some unstubbed toes left. And I still live with the same furniture.

[1] Contrary to popular belief, the title does not refer to a famous blogger’s famous blog of the same name. I’m hoping he hasn’t copyrighted the words, ‘coz I really don’t know what I would say when I stub my little toe!

[2] Note that it’s Mr.Bed and not Mrs.Bed. I do not share Ekta Kapoor’s ideas on how women do all the cheating, scheming and evil things, while men are their poor victims. I’m not exactly a feminist, but I do have my prejudices, whims and fancies. Sue me.

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Poll is still on, please feel free to goad me to new heights or lambast me to newer lows, as applicable. Since I’m the one who started it, who actually asked for it, apparently I don’t have a right to complain. But don’t take everything light, ok? As opposed to good people with good hearts, I don’t take criticism in a nice way. I keep grudges and take revenge all the time. If you’re mean to me, well, count your days for they are numbered!

(I’m hoping if I intimidate you enough, you’ll all go ahead and vote saying you dont care what the blog looks like ‘coz I write so amazingly well. Time will tell if my plan worked or backfired. Bless the two souls who actually voted for that option.)

And the following ‘comments’ from the not-so-blessed souls who clicked on ‘Other’. As usual, sarcy comments in square braces by me –

  • fook gak gablonk pbffffffffff!!!! [most definitely a Calvin fan! Cmon, own up.]
  • I am not bothered by them, do you? [I asked you. You’re asking me back?! Man!]
  • just wanted to put kalla vote 😀 [Long live you! thiruththave mudiyaadhu.]

Thanks much. I asked for it, yes.

Like I’ve said before, with friends like this who needs enemies!

The Mouse

Can you remember the last time you read a limerick on this blog? Me neither!

And that’s enough excuse to make you all suffer one more time! Muahahahaha!

Once upon a time, on an island with a lighthouse
Lived a teeny weeny mouse, in a little mouse house.
He slipped on a pea,
And fell in the sea!
Moral? Peas could be injurious, if you’re a teeny weeny mouse.

And so I continue to make Edward Lear toss and turn, 6 feet under.

You’ll still come back to my blog, won’t you? 🙂

To each his own!

Long time no limerick (fortunately)… so here goes (unfortunately)…

There was once an old man of Mig,
He was eccentric – he glued, to his head, a wig!
“To each his own!”,
Said the man, in a baritone –
Then, went right ahead and kissed a pig.

Don’t ask me why. Just remembered an often heard sentence, ‘To each his own, so said an old man who went and kissed a pig’, in response to some people having some weird likes/dislikes.

Not one of my better works. Sorry Mr.Lear, I tried!

Edward Lear and Me

Of late, I find myself in a mood for limericks about random things. Something like the original idea that Lear intended – crazy anecdotes about people who have names that rhyme with crazier words. No clue what I’m talkin’ about, eh? Try this…

This is one by Lear –

There was a young lady of Wilts,
Who walked up to Scotland on stilts;
When they said it is shocking
To show so much stocking,
She answered, “Then what about kilts?”

Get the picture? 🙂 Now for the bad part of this post – my own limerick 🙂

There was once a girl in Bloomingdale
She was shopping for a dress and a veil.
The dress was white,
And the veil, just right –
But alas, she now looked like Florence Nightingale!

I got nerve putting up my crap next to Lear, huh? Ah well..it’s my blog after all – you know, MY blog..(stress on MY, ofcourse)..

It’s good he died in 1888 (according to the www. If I’m wrong, you cannot sue me for this) – if he hadn’t, he sure would have hung himself now.

And this is just the beginning… **evil music in background**

If you never want to come back to this blog again, I can understand. 😦

The week that was

On Thursday (27 Apr, 2006):
For a long long time, one wish forever grew –
A little place of our own, ours through and through.
Many a sleepless night,
Only one thing in our sight,
We’re moving into our own house – finally, a dream come true!

On Sunday/Monday (30 Apr – 1 May, 2006):
Little did I know that a new house isn’t just a gain –
It came with much more – my prayers went in vain!
Pack and unpack,
My back went ‘cra-aa-ack’ –
Shifting to a new house is sure a big pain!

Rest of the week:
Boxes boxes everywhere, as far as eye can see!
Umpteen sacks and covers, alas! poor me!
This is so tragic,
I badly need magic –
Dear Lord, this is my prayer to thee!