The Nostril Story

The other day I was scratching my nose when, much to my surprise, one of my nostrils came off in my hand. I looked at it there. Looked kind of sad, really. Sort of like a pork rind with these twisted black aching allergic hairs sticking out of it. In a fit of spontaneity I popped it in my mouth and began to chew. It was wonderful! As salty and sweet as any sneeze, and those twisted black aching allergic hairs- they crunched like fried perch tails. And if you've ever had fried perch tails, well then you know what a deeply satisfying crunch that is.

While I was happily munching on my nostril, I began to wonder: Should I have my other nostril now, or save it for later? (While I'm eating nostrils and all.) Now I know some folks in this sad and sorry world who feel that the joys in life are so few and far between that we need to stretch them out, if only to break up the awful monotony. On the other hand, knowing myself as I do (and I do), there was the distinct possibility that if I didn't have that other nostril right then, I might never get to have it. I might lose it somewhere, like in the couch or at the mall, or worse yet- someone might steal it, while I was sleeping or in the shower with soap in my eyes, and then I'd be suspicious of my friends, wondering which one of them had taken my nostril- my last nostril! So, I decided it was best for myself, and all concerned, to have that other nostril immediately.

But when I tried to swallow my first nostril (which you recall me popping in my mouth earlier), those twisted black aching allergic hairs, resentful for having been stuck in my nose their entire existence, embedded themselves in the soft flesh of my throat, and grew thick and lush.

And as I laid down to avoid passing out from want of breath, I thought to myself, "You know, this is why you never do anything spontaneous."