I have always found the expression digging for gold to be falsely promising, what about people like me, who enjoy picking their bellybuttons for treasures?
And picking your nose is like digging for gold? I have been up there and theres nothing valuable to be found.
I work a mediocre job (but that doesn’t bother me), at night, right after dinner I sit down on the couch and watch TV while my finger delves around in my bellybutton in search of interesting things the day had left behind.
It’s true that on most nights all I manage to scoop out are bundles of fabric, cookie crumbles and dust.
But on a good night I might pull out something special, like last week while I was watching House I picked a small diamond out of my navel, or at least at first I thought it was, I mean it was so shiny so what else could it have been.
I took it to a Jewish diamond expert and he told me it was just a oversized grain of sand.
I still had hope I would one day find myself a real treasure hidden somewhere in the nooks and crannies of my bellybutton.
Then one night I was watching Lost and my finger was fiddling around in my bellybutton, and when I thought I had cleaned out the place I felt something strange.
It felt a bit like metal and I began pulling it out, my bellybutton stretched to the max and I was starting to see what it was, a human hand started to come out of my belly.
I kept pulling until the arm had come out up to the elbow, it began moving around and grabbed a hold of the coffee table and started pulling itself out.
Blood came gushing out and my bellybutton was completely torn apart.
I passed out because of the pain and when I woke up again I was looking at my own mother covered in blood.
She looked at me oddly and said, “Now you know what it’s like. And I told you to stop picking your bellybutton!”
And picking your nose is like digging for gold? I have been up there and theres nothing valuable to be found.
I work a mediocre job (but that doesn’t bother me), at night, right after dinner I sit down on the couch and watch TV while my finger delves around in my bellybutton in search of interesting things the day had left behind.
It’s true that on most nights all I manage to scoop out are bundles of fabric, cookie crumbles and dust.
But on a good night I might pull out something special, like last week while I was watching House I picked a small diamond out of my navel, or at least at first I thought it was, I mean it was so shiny so what else could it have been.
I took it to a Jewish diamond expert and he told me it was just a oversized grain of sand.
I still had hope I would one day find myself a real treasure hidden somewhere in the nooks and crannies of my bellybutton.
Then one night I was watching Lost and my finger was fiddling around in my bellybutton, and when I thought I had cleaned out the place I felt something strange.
It felt a bit like metal and I began pulling it out, my bellybutton stretched to the max and I was starting to see what it was, a human hand started to come out of my belly.
I kept pulling until the arm had come out up to the elbow, it began moving around and grabbed a hold of the coffee table and started pulling itself out.
Blood came gushing out and my bellybutton was completely torn apart.
I passed out because of the pain and when I woke up again I was looking at my own mother covered in blood.
She looked at me oddly and said, “Now you know what it’s like. And I told you to stop picking your bellybutton!”
