Attention, ladies and gentlemen. You may no longer lick my ears. This may prompt the question from you, "When did I ever lick Cody's ears to begin with?" Come on, don't make me humiliate you with specific instances (that one time at the lake after you'd gotten into the Peppermint Schnapps). The fact is, my right ear may no longer be licked. For the sake of clarity, I present the following:
Things you may still do to my right ear
Massage it
Fondle it
Sing to it
Bake it spaghetti
Things you may not do to my right ear
Jab pointy things into it
Fill it with fire ants
Lick it (note: new addition to list)
The reason for this is because I have an infection in it. Not a big one, I'm guessing, since I didn't even know I had it until I went in for my physical yesterday. And perhaps not a potent one, since I can still hear a hummingbird burp from three clicks away. But it's an infection nonetheless, and the only way I'm going to get through this is a mixture of acetic acid, water, and no slobber. Lick the ear and you'll be licking your death warrant, one of those special new kind that only become valid after coming in contact with moisture.
Now that we've gotten the important stuff out of the way, I should tell everyone that I'll be doing a little goulash hiatus until Tuesday of next week. I'm taking a little trip. I'm going to the land of jerk chicken and red stripe, the place indirectly at fault for every white guy I've ever seen with dreadlocks. It's a joint known as Jamaica, and if I don't come home with a tattoo of Ziggy Marley on my butt, I'm demanding a refund. See y'all in a while.
Posted by Cody at January 4, 2006 6:52 PM