Just Throw the Empty Husk Away

Sometimes, you gotta use these forums to tackle some of the tougher topics in life. Here we go.

Navels.


Emergency Contact is funny about them, so I have to type quietly. She thinks they’re unnatural and is a bit put out by even having to wear one. Even mentioning them puts her dead off, so there are hours of fun to be had by walking past and giving hers a quick little poke. (Now that Mollie Sugden is dead, I can make statements like that and the studio audience doesn’t react at all.)

During the Renaissance, there was a lot of tension between theological groups as to whether Adam got one. I can understand that. Evolutionary biology, to my mind as solid as anything else we’ve got going on, hadn’t really put its hand up yet. The argument tended to rage around whether God had pushed his pinky into the play-doh in an effort to give the mold some authenticity, or whether it really didn’t come up until the first umbilical cord made its appearance. (That last sentence should have EC squirming.)

Good or bad, insey or outsey, natural or not, I’m normally not so fussed (although a really prominent outsey can make me lose my appetite). But mine is giving me pause. I don’t even know what verb to use when I describe the phenomena.

My level of navel lint production/collection is reaching heights I never thought possible. It must be production. I just don’t wear clothes of that colour, so I can’t be collecting it. I’m worried my stuffing is coming out. I am losing a bit of weight, but I had put that down to exercise. I got in the shower the other day and a small hall-runner rug fell out. I’m going to collapse at work one day like Obi Wan Kenobi and they’re just going to kick through my empty clothes and say, “Yep, all empty. Not much of a surprise though, he was an NLP Grandmaster.

(You thought that stood for Neuro Linguistic Programming didn’t you? Nup. Navel Lint Production.)