Now, I've nothing against crabs. My two previous encounters with them have been rather useful. Firstly, they've told me that a boyfriend was cheating. Secondly, they've given me something to kill to cheer me up.
These crabs just seem pointless. And bloody enormous. And on the march.
Anyway, it's late at night and I'm not sleeping with these buggers tarzaning around my genitalia, so, based on a hazy memory of what's in Derbac M, I try a variety of home cures:
- Vodka - had no effect. After all, these are my children.
- Turpentine - no effect either, but really, really smells.
- Poppers - epic fail. I have to have a lie down while the critters have a disco in my pubes.
- "Deep Freeze" Mentholated foot rub - marvellously lethal.
I sit up till three waiting for the stinging to wear off while reading a history of Sparta.
I would really, really like to smoke a cigarette but am basically a human firework. So, instead, I watch the survivors of the conflagration crawl desperarely towards the bunker that is my belly button. None of them make it.
4 comments:
Hee, hee, hee. Sorry, must have been very uncomfortable (I know, believe me). So it's not very funny at all. It's just that . . . hee, hee, hee.
Are you sure the vector was those nubile students - usually takes at least 2 weeks before you notice them after infection.
"Vector", eh? Don't forget, I've been racing through about 8 weeks in four blog posts.
Trust me - you've missed very little!
Don't you need pubes to have crabs? That's what has shocked me , I didn't think that anybody had pubes any more.
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