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The Toybox

people for the conservation of limited amounts of indignation


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the feet that time forgot
flying squirrel
seperis
For reference, expect for the next week to ten days, I will be grumpy. And no, not in a productive porn way that ends in strange kinks, but in a listless way where I generally feel a vague desire to wreck havoc by leaving my shoes on the floor and not doing dishes in a timely manner. This may or may not combine with staring resentfully at my website and muttering about a nice black background with lime green text. I am just in that place in my life.

(ETA: Ah. It's my period. That explains the half-pound chocolate bar I had to buy and the beef jerky I'm consuming by the bag. Okay, probably four to eight days, then, before zen is reacheived.)

However. The Mystery of the Feet is bothering me on a variety of levels. Mostly due to this:

- There is no evidence that any of the first four feet were forcibly removed.

I'm sorry. I must have missed this part of biology, where feet do indeed resemble Bratz characters. What does that even mean they weren't forcibly removed? They walked away from their legs? No fault divorce? Sudden, inexplicable, religion-creating immaculate feet birth (complete with cross-trainers?). How in the name of God do feet disattach without assistance? I mean, basically, are they saying six feet (just one of a pair, like what, there was a foot flamewar and one flounced in a way that's exceedingly unusual) randomly rotted off their attached leg (ewww) and then went for a cool swim? Without the other foot (see flamewar)? Or a rash of one legged people in running shoes died and their feet all decomposed together, or--

--or really. Really. I understand investigation in progress, but this feels like the beginning of a very strange fantasy novel where someone, somewhere, is doing some kind of obscure human sacrifice and oh! Oh! This would totally be an Anita Blake thing. Totally. With feet. Zombie feet.

Oh wow, what if these are zombie feet? Rock on.

And that concludes my creepy theory on the feet. I shall now continue my mild and uninteresting sulk about the universe not bending to my will and abuse of parentheses for fun and confusion.
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I kind of hate you right now, just so you know. Because now all I can picture is Anita Blake having sex with the zombie feet. They're masturbating her. With rotting toes.

...yes, I really did need to share that image. Pain shared is pain halved~!

That's in the next book, I'm almost certain.

....also, eww. So much ewww. God, the eww.

They're saying that it looks like four of the first five feet may have come of corpses too rotted to maintain integrity, rather than being severed with some kind of tool.

...and boy, I never thought that was a sentence I'd type.

On the other hand, with this sixth foot, it looks like it may have been cut off. Yipes.

I do like that sentence. It makes me happy in a variety of ways. A *variety*.

I blame ninjas.

*leaves chocolate tithing*

*vanishes*

NINJAS! YAY!

*grabs for chocolate*

I must have missed this part of biology, where feet do indeed resemble Bratz characters.

*cleans up snorfed tea from keyboard/monitor/desk*

Well, what were we supposed to think with that phrasing?????

Okay, I don't care if you're grumpy, because you just partially (only partially! I swear!) lifted ME out of my grump with this theory. I thought the same damn thing and figured someone must have called David Caruso and got that kind of explanation from him, only with sunglasses.

See? I'm not making sense, so it's only partially.

God you know this will be an ep of CSI, right? One of them. I can feel it. And I hope it's David Caruso now.

Dammit. That would be awesome.

See, my best-case scenario theory is that there is an off-shore foot removal clinic for those body-dismorphic people who seek amputation. I mean, not that that's not deeply skeevy to me, but better the feet should come from people who don't want them!

*helpless laughing* Oh my God. That--that would be *wonderful*. The best, best explanation ever! (short of zombie feet; I'm attached to that theory, unlike those feet are attached to anything at all)

oh man, my coworkers and I spent two hours today discussing this while our boss was out of the office (oops). We eventually decided upon either a pirate curse or the sharks have finally started their rebellion and this is our warning sign.

Though I quite like the idea of zombie feet now that you mention it. Toooeeeess.

Their haunting moan would haunt us all while they tried to stomp us to death. Or...kick? *unsure*

(Saturday Night Live did it first, but)...

perhaps a revival of Footloose Footless?

Was one weekend together enough to sync up our cycles? Or is the Fangirl Nation all on the same schedule? Blergh. Blergh, I say.

(I've been trying to avoid the feet news, although CNN.com has made it EXTREMELY DIFFICULT)

CNN IS EVIL. I AM SCARED OF THE FEET.

I went to bed AFTER reading about the sixth foot (I read about the fifth and fourth when they happened as well and was vaguely/morbidly entertained) and consequently had a dream...

A group of exercise types got together and went for a Really Fun Hike! Unfortunately, in the process of Really Fun Hike! they got themselves stranded in a sea cave from which there is no escape but a hole leading out to the beach just big enough for a foot or hand to fit through. One of the hikers dies. In desperation after a few days of of sitting on ledges in the sea cave with their dead hiker companion, one hiker says, "Hey! John's family gave him those shoes right before we left, so they know what his shoes look like! They live just down there on the shore! I will send them a reason to look for John and they'll find us..."

"But the shoe will sink!" says another hiker, who everyone else thinks is smart, but he really isn't. He's very much not smart. "You need to put something in it to make it float!"

After much debate, they agree that the foot will work, never realizing that the foot would have been the yummy part to the ocean, and the shoe the floaty part. They have no cutting or sawing utensils, so they spend an hour or two lodging the corpse's foot in the hole and then yanking the rest of the body backward until it at last tears off and goes kerplop outside.

Another couple days pass. Someone else dies. Close, damp, and loud quarters, a footless dead man's increasing odor, their own odor, and realizing they're all going to die creates a sense of delusion. Next thing you know, there's only a couple people left alive and they start tearing off the other dead hikers' feet.

Naturally, none of the feet make it to John's family. Instead, they go willy-nilly around the ocean for a time, then down the coast to a different beach thanks to currents, and everyone makes a hub-bub about it on the news. By this time, the hikers-in-the-sea-cave are all long gone.

...I have very detailed and freaking insane dreams.

Anything but lime green text on black background, anything! *g* *pets you carefully*

I'd heard about the severed feet turning up (did I link to an article on same in my journal at one point?) but not about the "not forcibly severed" thing.

And I've had lime-green (well, grass-green) text on a black background on my LJ for years. But I'm funny that why -- white backgrounds on a computer screen are just too bright. Light text against black is more comfortable.

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