No, this is the good one!
Thats the joke I like to play on those that seem a bit uncomfortable asking me about my eye. Its actually a replaced cornea that was badly scarred. I wish I had a good story about how it happened like I was injured trying to find Ossama Bin Laden or it was injured during a fight with ghost pirates. Alas nothing as glamorous. The iris is stretched and it looks like a cat eye. I usually hear “That’s cool”.
I digress.
The shape of the eye sometimes give an ominous look leading people to think that I am scowling at them. I found out this was known as the stink/skunk/evil eye. With that said I will now retell a story, a story of pain. A story of disgust and trauma only seen by trauma surgeons and homicide detectives.
It was a glorious spring day. A day that could put the most devout curmudgeon and ne’er-do-well in the best of spirits. A day when I took no offense at doing one of my least favorite chores. Mowing the lawn. I hate all the prep work and extras that one does just to cut grass. Shovel poop, empty the catcher, fill the garbage bags and so on. I call shenanigans on all that! I’m a free spirit! I will just forgo the catcher and that other drudgery that keeps me from the sweet sweet smell of fresh cut grass.
I mow.
I mow sans catcher(the little rocks that gently pelt my shins are not bad). The grass will fly out the catcher attachment, dry up and blow away. No problem. I mow over the dog doody. It will scatter all over and not be a problem.
Halfway though I see a pile, take aim and run over it. I never thought a piece of poo could exit the catcher hole, catch the wind and hit me. The odds of that are huge. Even greater are the odds of that same poo making a turn, catching an updraft and flying at my eye. The stink eye non the less. It was like a scene from the matrix only with dog poo. It was horrible and I still carry the scars. What I can’t figure out is why I felt running around like a mad man and yelling “poo” would help me.
It did not!
So now when I am asked about my stink eye I do have a good story.
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OK besides, EWWWWW. I just want to say that is a hilarious story. Thank God it wasn’t “runny” poo; i could have changed your evil eye color to brown, if it’s not already
I can not think of anything more horrific than poo in the eye. Running an screaming like a girl is a perfectly acceptable response.
I think I wet my pants as well.
Wow – a literal stink eye. At least none of the poo flew into your mouth.
See? Shit like this is why I feed my dog a soft diet.
Mmmmm! Nasty, but it’s a funny story. Like Marissa said, I’m glad you didn’t end up eating any of it. Did you?
I think this is the funniest thing I’ve read all day.
TY
You know any story prefaced by explanations of body parts is going to be a good one. Hilarious!
I’m always afraid that I’ll run over a snake and get snake goo on me. Ugh.
Snake Goo was my nickname in high school
Running around and yelling poo is rarely helpful, but it is funny. You’re Poop-Eye. Get it? Pop-Eye, Poop-Eye? No? I’m going now.
What a tragic story! But you do realize that it should be “ne’er-do-well” (as in never do well) instead of “Nair-do-well”. Unless, of course, you meant people who can use Nair well, in which case you would be completely correct.
I meant both things that you said.