Tummy Touched

So I said goodbye to a much maligned, long serving friend recently. Well, I say friend, but she was more like an annoying, yappy dog-like lesion. I am, of course, talking about my pet verruca, Satan. It has finally gone, she first popped up during my easy teenage years, and despite attempts to destroy it throughout my fragrant twenties, it continued to flourish, bringing joy and beauty to all it touched. But all of a sudden, without my even noticing, she had left, like a mystery custard stain in the night, with only the aroma of billowing sock curtains to suggest that she'd ever even existed.

Of all my non life threatening diseases cum afflictions (cum-affliction being one of them) the verruca was my favourite. But all is not lost, for the moment that Satan sailed away on the wind my new best friend jumped from Marry Poppins's metaphorical, voluminous sack onto my person. Say hello to my new neck goitre, Gary. Pulsating, shape shifting, squidgy in all the wrong places, he is here to nurse me through my old age, and will, no doubt, be there to throw himself on my funeral pyre at the appropriate time.


Currently listening: Under the Blacklight by Rilo Kiley