No tobacco of any kind for twenty-four hours, despite the dirty, glorious temptation of a packet of small cigarillos in the public bar this evening. On a sadder note, still no sign of Curschmann's Spirals. I want to cough and produce* some of the "thick, tenacious mucous plugs", but nothing's happening. Instead, I shall just have to look at another photograph of one of the little beauties, and hope that mine will be as pretty.
Right. That's enough about non-smoking until the spirals come up, at which point I will take photographs and post them on here. Are you as excited as I am? I bet you are, you little tinkers.
* "Produce" is an extremely bad word, particularly when almost next to the words "mucous" and "plugs".
8 comments:
In the absence of you bringing up anything, let me bring up one of my favorite words, quite à propos: inspissated.
"To undergo thickening or cause to thicken, as by boiling or evaporation; condense."
Oof.
I think you may be mistaken. Inspissated = the inability, when drunk and wishing to describe one's condition, to decide between the words 'inebriated' and 'pissed'.
Not bad, as it goes. JB?
I likes it. Let's adopt it as a second definition.
I have a third: "is said of the human victims of the Amazonian Candiru".
JB, stop showing off. I don't even understand that joke.
I'm like the Braggart Shark that roams the Northern oceans - if I stop showing off I die.
The above was a joke meant to elicit either Niagaras of uncontrollable laughter, or a quick look-up on google. Go on, check it out, you might like it.
OK. That is quite funny, as it goes. The BBC say:
The candiru feeds parasitically by burrowing into body orifices then drinking the blood of its victim.
It detects urine in the water to find a host.
It can lodge itself in the urethra, the tube inside the penis.
Barbs along its sides jam it in place.
Removing one without surgery is almost impossible.
I had in mind that the Candiru were a tribe. Of people.
I don't know why.
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