This flap on my fucking finger is killing me. It’s a triangular piece of skin that’s decided to lift itself off of my index finger for no reason. It’s like a rogue piece of skin, deciding to forge a new path away from the fascist regime that was the corner of my nail.
I can’t even tell you how it happened. That’s what’s pissing me off. If I get chlamydia, I can pinpoint the person; if I get malaria, I can tell you a mosquito gave it to me while I was building the Panama Canal. But this skin flap bullshit? I have no fucking clue. Does it harbor anything against me? It’s just hanging out, and throbbing as fuck.
Anytime I use my index finger, I enter into a world of pain. So I generally mark it zero. But aside from my blatant Big Lebowski joke, it really is hard to suffocate this pain. It reminds me of my disgust of industrial sushi at Davis. I’ve heard (from a very reliable source) that the sushi that is sold in the sushi buffets in Davis is usually congealed with mayonnaise. From the California roll to the shredded crab meat roll, they’ve all got that good ‘ol fashioned mayo glue. Now that I think about this, it makes me dry heave: I don’t think I’m ever eating sushi in Davis again. Mayo is fucking disgusting. Ew.
You see, I love good sushi (or at least I think I do) and what that tells me is I’ve fallen in love with mayo and rice wrapped in a crispy avocado skin. What the fucking fuck. I’ve been duped. I’ve been had. How could they do this to me? Where can I get real sushi … but in buffet form? Does this even exist anymore? I feel like I’m posting an ad for casual encounters on Craigslist: it will lead to the same result (pooping v. sex), but the means by which you accomplish your deed matter greatly (eating mayo vs. using Craigslist).
So I’ve got to maintain some integrity here. Honestly, I have no idea where I’m going with this column and I’m not about to put on any airs: I’m sitting on a Lazy-Boy wrapped in a Snuggie while scratching my mosquito-bitten calves and watching “The Cosby Show” on WGN America. I’m also going to hand in this column two or three hours past my deadline. At this point, I’m assuming my editor won’t fire me because it’s not worth having a blank space run in place of my columns for the next two Tuesdays. Actually, I have no idea … maybe blank space is better. I’m probably fired already.
But I have to hand it to the king of Pudding (or was it Jell-O?): “The Cosby Show” always seems to impart a very Cosby-eque moral system to the viewers. That is, I’m more comfortable with myself now when I decide to replace common words with nonsense syllables. ASHUMBALAZIA.
Speaking of nonsense, I’m making Zataran’s right now. I even used a Soyrizo as the meat so I can safely say I was a vegan for two hours today. Aren’t you proud of me? Fuck yeah. That will totally cancel the $8 bratwurst I had at the Giants game this past Sunday.
In other news, I went to the dentist for the first time in five years (this is nowhere near my friend Loaf’s record – a solid decade without seeing a dentist) and I must happily report that I have ZERO cavities (Loaf had FOUR cavities after his long-awaited dental encounter). BUT…I do have mild periodontitis, which is basically like super gingivitis and can lead to bone loss (Is this correct? Is there a dentist who’s reading this? Ayudame, por favor.).
Seriously, are you still reading this? I’ve just turned this week into my shitty hipster moleskine diary entry for chrissakes and you’re still reading. Wow.
DAVE KARIMI also got a BILLY MAYS (HERE) bobblehead at the Giants game. He is resolving to never open that shit because it might be worth some fucking money someday. He also picked up one of the better cups that people leave on the floor after the game. That shit is even dishwasher safe. Booya. He can be reached at dkarimi@ucdavis.edu.
