November 29, 2007
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When one wears well-fitted nylons/tights, one’s insides get pushed up against one another and suddenly neither body part knows what’s going on. Like, I think I had a substantial lunch, but I can’t really tell because my stomach is smooshed. It’s probably uncomfortably sitting on top of the liver or moving in with the lungs, “Hey, what’s going on? How’ve you been?” And the lungs frown since they’ve taken in some recent secondhand smoke from students who weren’t fifteen feet from the building. The mouth didn’t say anything, however.
Can you tell I am not an anatomy teacher? I’m sure someone will correct me, but I am not trying to be correct – just trying to create a demented story about my nervous insides.
