intransitive verb
- to feel or cause an irritating sensation on the skin that makes one want to scratch the affected part
A man had just been laid off from work. He was standing on the railing of a high bridge getting ready to jump off, when he happened to look down and see a little man with no arms dancing all around on the river bank below.
He thought, "Life isn't so bad after all," and got off the railing.
He then walked down to the river bank to thank the little man for saving his life.
"Thank you," he said. "I was going to jump off that bridge and kill myself, but when I saw you dancing even though you have no arms, I changed my mind."
"Dancing? I'm not dancing!" the armless man replied bitterly ... "My asshole itches, and I can't scratch it!"
Ok...that may have been in poor taste. But only a smidge. My incision sites are ITCHING like crazy. I know that means they are healing. At least that's what an old wife once told me in a tale. But Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, we couldn't come up with a better way to tell us we were healing? I mean I can think of a few just off the top of my head. Like, you know how you can tell when meat is done? Like the little button on the turkey pops out and says "Pssst. Hey guys, it is now time to enjoy my crisp skin, juicy meat, and golden carbohydrates you stuffed me with"? Why can't our belly buttons just pop out? You're just sitting there watching TV one night and all of a sudden "pop", there goes the belly button. Yayyyyyyyy! You're healed!
He thought, "Life isn't so bad after all," and got off the railing.
He then walked down to the river bank to thank the little man for saving his life.
"Thank you," he said. "I was going to jump off that bridge and kill myself, but when I saw you dancing even though you have no arms, I changed my mind."
"Dancing? I'm not dancing!" the armless man replied bitterly ... "My asshole itches, and I can't scratch it!"
Ok...that may have been in poor taste. But only a smidge. My incision sites are ITCHING like crazy. I know that means they are healing. At least that's what an old wife once told me in a tale. But Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, we couldn't come up with a better way to tell us we were healing? I mean I can think of a few just off the top of my head. Like, you know how you can tell when meat is done? Like the little button on the turkey pops out and says "Pssst. Hey guys, it is now time to enjoy my crisp skin, juicy meat, and golden carbohydrates you stuffed me with"? Why can't our belly buttons just pop out? You're just sitting there watching TV one night and all of a sudden "pop", there goes the belly button. Yayyyyyyyy! You're healed!
Instead, someone (I'm not saying who, be it God, Buddah, the Devil, or The Dali Lama) decided that after being stabbed repeatedly you should also go through the hell of having to itch yourself like a drunk fat man during the football game. Thanks for that.
Excuse me while I go scratch my belly for the next hour.
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