Bob's nose got smooshed yesterday. He told me about his boss' father's nose...which was non-existent. "He didn't have a nose" is how the story went. He (the father) used a cotton ball as a nose. "He would stuff in a new cotton ball every day." (The nose was lost early on. Cancer.) Now Bob knows how good he has it. He doesn't have a hole on his face in which to stuff cotton. And that's it.

In my mother's world, everything, especially fear, was her...I need to speak,
and I will speak without my mother’s funny accent...

I was talking to Old Man Emu and a couple others about my brother's surgery. No, it wasn't easy like a nose job.

But he was fed up with being called "shorty" Little man! and the constant taunts of "Hey you down there"!!!

He's always had a kind of resentment toward the non-short.

Even though the doctors warned him that they couldn't just operate on every short person who walked in the door, he could not be deterred. Two years ago, he decided to do something about it.

The gory details:

A surgeon attaches a metal frame to his leg.

Bones are cut below the knee, but not separated.

A week later, Drew started rotating a dial each day, which pulls the bones apart a little bit.

As the bone ends are separated, new bone fills in the space. Muscles, nerves and blood vessels also grow.

Each bit of growth (centimeter, maybe?) takes a month's recovery. It took him almost a year. But...it was worth it.

The funniest part was some of the shit he said under the drugs. "Play Bronski Beat" and "I can take the pain if it means I can become a diplomat" were probably my top two favorites. And he made up a song about potatoes, too.

For over 80 years, Ansell has dedicated itself to providing high quality gloves designed for each job you may require your hands to perform.

i'm going to have a daughter and name her gibbona.

is that a baguette he's carrying. that's one big loaf of bread!

there are so many words on this head