Monday, August 10, 2009

Safety Razor, My Ass!

It all started when I packed a few things in my overnight bag, including basic toiletries, one of which included my razor. It doesn't have one of those protective sheaths--and right now I'm sort of wishing it did, considering what happened when I carelessly reached my hand into the bag to see if my headache medicine was in there. You can imagine what happened next--not only did I run my middle finger across the edge of the razor, but the razor sliced right through the fingernail, causing me to howl like a werewolf stepping in a bear trap while on fire.

The sad part is I don't feel safe jamming my hand into bags anymore. It's like a moment of lost innocence.


  1. I was too busy shrieking like a cartoon woman.