(Disclaimer: In the post you are about to read, the images used are NOT our feet. I used them so that there wasn’t just a wall of text. The only true image, which is of my painted toes, is the one on the main page for the scroll bar header. I’d rather cut off my feet than have some of the toes below….)

Over the past couple of days, I have suffered through not one, but two injuries to the big toe on my right foot. How did these happen? Oh well, let me tell you dear readers….

Late last week I was playing with Moogle in the front room. I believe Chris was playing some Red Dead Redemption, so I figured I would play with Moogs to pass the time. One of her favorite toys is this black plastic stick that allows you to attach various odds and ends. Her favorite attachment is this collection of multi-colored metallic streamers. It’s fun to move it around, have her chase it, and leap in the air. She can get really high sometimes if you get it just right.

Everything seemed to be going great until Moogle, with her front and back paws out, landed and slid right on top of my right foot. It hurt like hell because her nails got me right in the sweet spots. I had a slice on the top of my foot, right before my toes begin, you know… where the skin is really soft and delicate? I also had a nifty slice in the big toe knuckle crease (ouch) and then to top it all off, a nail slid right across my cuticle. Needless to say, playtime was over.

My second injury happened Sunday night. Earlier that day I had thought about trimming my toe nails, because they were slightly longer than I like them to be (I hate seeing the white tip nails get, at least on my toes) but because we were busy doing other things, I figured I would do it on Monday, along with a proper pedicure. Oh how I wish I listened to myself.

When we were getting ready to go to bed, Chris picked up Moogle and was holding her by the hallway. I went over to give her some loves and smoochies, since she was about to go to her room, but Chris stepped forward, and in doing so, his toenail went under mine, and POP – it snapped. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt…. and about 1/4 of my nail, starting from the tip, was ripped off almost all the way across. Fortunately it didn’t go all the way down to the skin. Unfortunately it caused the nail on the side to come out of my skin rather quickly so I was bleeding there. Right then, I cut all of my toenails, and I noticed that on the side where I was bleeding, you could see where my nail had lifted a little bit more, about halfway up the entire nail – it had that white, cloudy look to it. So, after I cleaned it with some antibacterial soap and water, I bandaged it up. The following day was alright except that it throbbed a couple of times.

Oddly enough, Chris was the recipient of a toe boo-boo as well. Last night, he was playing with Moogle using the same toy I was last week. He was doing the same exact thing, and guess what happened? Claws-out Moogs got his toes! Instead of it being his right foot, it was his left, but man she got him good. There was this large bead of blood coming out from the knuckle crease on his big toe, and she even got the toe right next to it. I guess it was a good thing we bought some band-aids earlier in the evening.

- Me

I honestly don’t even know how to start this off without laughing hysterically, but I will try.

Very rarely do I use mayo. Why? Because it’s basically eggs and oil combined to create a creamy white substance. I do not care for creamy white substances in my mouth, and you may interpret that however you want. On sandwiches I prefer mustard, but with my reflux, the vinegar in mustard just kills me. To avoid having a dry sandwich, I am forced to use a little bit of mayo.

Wanting tuna sandwiches, we purchased one of those squeezable mayo containers. It’s easier than using a jar, and it takes up less space in the fridge. To have a tuna sandwich without mayo is a sin, and it would be really dry. We had that particular mayo container for close to about a month. It was maybe half empty, but still had a lot of use left in it… that is until Chris got a hold of it.

About a week ago Chris got on this kick to make some sandwiches. We went to the grocery store around the corner, bought what we needed (cheese, deli meats, etc) and went home. Everything seemed pretty normal until several hours later, when I went into the kitchen, I saw the mayo bottle on the counter and we both didn’t trust it to be safe. So much for that bottle.

A couple of days ago Chris went to the grocery store to get another bottle of mayo, a bottle of ketchup (since our other one is now empty), some lettuce, and I believe a few other things. Shortly after he got home, he made some more sandwiches. He also made this yogurt thing of his, in which he had to go to the fridge to get the ingredients, and he was standing right in front of where the mayo bottle was on the counter.

We ate our sandwiches, and a couple of hours passed before I got up, refilled my glass with some water, and as I was doing that I glanced at the counter. What was there? THE BOTTLE OF NEW MAYO!

I couldn’t believe it! So my conversation with Chris went a little something like this:

Me: Sweetie! You left the brand new mayo out!

Chris: I did? Oh… shit, I’m so sorry.

Me: Sweeetttiiieeee, how could you forget?!?

Chris: Well, I was busy making (his yogurt thingy) and I just forgot.

Me: But it was right there on the counter in front of you…

Later on that evening I had a snack. A sliced apple with a caramel dipping sauce. Since the dipping sauce is in a large container, I only had to use a little bit of it, I got up and said “Sweetie… I’m now getting up and putting it BACK IN THE FRIDGE.” Chris laughed at me a little because he knew I was making fun of him, but he probably has some crazy subconscious vendetta against mayo.

Yesterday we ended up going to the grocery store to get a couple of things, and of course a new bottle of mayo, and since we haven’t used it yet, it is safe in the fridge… for now. Should something happen to this third bottle of mayo, you all know who to blame, and it certainly isn’t going to be me.

- Me

A few weeks ago on our MehCast, I brought up something that seemed pretty disturbing. While Chris and I were driving around in town, I kept seeing little signs for a website called Bad Donkey Wrestling. I’m a pretty imaginative person, and sometimes my mind goes into the gutter… well actually, it goes into the gutter a lot. I can’t help it. That’s just how my brain is wired. Anyways, as soon as I read the words “Bad Donkey Wrestling,” my mind was filled with the strangest images and jokes.

One might wonder what a bad donkey would look like. Maybe he could be a donkey with a villainous moustache. Maybe he could be a donkey decked out in S&M garb. Or maybe, he could be a donkey with a Billy Idol quality about him. Either way you look at it, it’s pretty funny.

Now try and picture somebody wrestling with any of the donkeys mentioned above. It would probably look like something that would only be found in a place like Tijuana, but I will spare you all with the nasty details.

When I got home that night, after initially seeing the signs, I went straight to the computer because I just had to see what it was all about. I was thankful that I wasn’t exposed to some gross beastiality website, however I was disappointed that I wasn’t given a site that I could really make fun of. I will say that the image of the guy that’s on the home page is a little strange, but nothing that I could really get snarky about.

If you guys or gals saw a sign for “Bad Donkey Wrestling,” what would you initially think? Share in the comment section below!

- She Who Has The Last Word