Tiffany Hensley

THE FLAPPER KIT.

I would like to post a review about the flapper kit.

Here's the backdrop to this polaroid: I was in a car crash, and glass got everywhere.

I mean, under my clothes. In my shoes. In my skin.

My knee itches like a mother because tiny pieces of glass are pushing themselves up from under the stitched flaps, which the surgeon had had to pull tight over the hole and exposed vital leg tendon.

Like lead bullets from a dying X-Man. I wish I had metal claws too.

I've been clipping open parts of my hand (aka newly healed skin) with the Flapper Kit handy little clippers (which I also use as a spoon - tmi?). Then I PULL, when they bob up for air, and the buggers are fully exterminated.

I've been cutting gauze and filing off piles of skin up to my eyeballs...to the disgust of my housemates :)...as I prepare for the cup at an excruciating pace.

On an up note: I had a cookie today!

Last thing! I've learned some key truths of human existence from sitting around drinking tea and stewing in a temporarily quiet lifestyle (while I wait for a thumbs up from Austria.

Healing requires calling Father Time a total punk.

If you don't like your job, follow Five Tens's advice, and just quit.
Or be like Steven Jeffery, and be a complete punk. He does look rather like what I'd imagine Father Time to look like...raised eyebrows, and eternally shocked hair.

And finally:
Every human is a language.