HOW DARE YOU TURN YOUR NOSE UP AT MY NOSE PICKING.

The other day I was sitting in a meeting with a client when this girl that I work with began bragging about how she is very anal about keeping a clean and organized workspace. Anal, as in the cavity in which feces passes through prior to plopping in a porcelain pot (I’m all about alliteration). I don’t know when this term first poked its head out, but I think people have lost sight of just how gross it is. I for one don’t love the saying, however I’m all for it if it means allowing some other equally foul things into social acceptance. Like nose picking.

Now fast-forward a week. This same girl caught me elbow deep picking a boogie off my medulla oblongata and she shot me a look of utter disgust and horror. How dare she. Let us not forget just a week ago she referred to her organizational skills as being synonymous with a turd tunnel (I can’t help myself). How dare she cast me aside like some leper. Mind you lepers had it rough, what with the exile colonies and loss of digits, but at least they had each other. You know what they say; Misery Enjoys Company (particularly when there are boils on your back that need tending to).

It’s crazy how we can live in a society that embraces the nose with quirky idioms like, keep your nose clean, pay through the nose, and powder your nose, yet an innocent small-town guy puts his pointer finger up his shnoz and the shit hits the fan.