Tuesday, April 13, 2010

a little something i like to call the hock-tooey factor

you hear it everywhere.  echoing through the streets.  right next to you and far off in the distance.  it wakes you up in the morning and lulls you to sleep at night.

hock-tooey.  hock-tooey.  hock hock tooey.

from india to nepal, the hock-tooey factor is high. 

it's the dirt.  dirt everywhere and mostly in your lungs.

ok, maybe not mostly in your lungs because it really does a good job working it's way onto and into your skin as well.  did you ever go to the renaissance faire?  remember running around there all day and then blowing your nose?  what happened?  dirt happened.  snot the color of dirt.  al-bob and i call those faire boogers.  imagine that, but all over your body.  say you have an itch, an innocent little itch.  you absent-mindedly rub it and what happens?  you feel, under your fingers, little bits of dirt rolling up into little balls.  faire boogers.  covering your arms, legs, shoulders, neck. 

nice.

tevolving