Posts tagged gross

I went to Walmart yesterday because I had a gift card and needed some milk. While there I was affirmed in my heretofore avoidance of said store.

I was in the fitting room trying on an adorable $7 dress. It was purple with a very short, tutu-esque, black tulle skirt, part of Miley Cyrus’ line. After much deliberation I decided, defeated, that I’m too old to dress like a 16-year-old. (Sniff.)

Rewind to pre-deliberation, in the fitting room: I heard an employee talking—no, shouting—to another employee about how constipated she had been all day. And how her “booty hole” was “sore because [she] had to stick [her] fingernail…” I didn’t hear the end of the sentence because her coworker told her to stop it and act like a lady. “I am a lady,” she said.

This is not a joke.

Then at checkout, the young female cashier had a very visible five-o’clock shadow spread under her ample chins. She called a manager to help her with my gift card. The manager, a much older lady with long stringy gray hair, had a long gray mustache to match.

Am I shallow to have been mildly traumatized by this experience?

This is not Photoshopped. A dude had an ear grown from his stem cells. Then he had it implanted into his arm. He calls this “performance art,” but I don’t see where the performance part comes into it — or the art part.

It seems like people shouldn’t be allowed to do things like this. I’m not sure why, but the idea of weird body part growth and strategic placement just really gets under my skin. Ha. Get it?

(Image from dragonstouch.co.uk, a website I obviously frequent.)

Meet the Komodo dragon.

A creature of island gigantism, this guy weighs in at 100 pounds (not including undigested food).

He eats a little of everything red. A sampling of their dietary delights: Monkeys, baby Komodo dragons, insects, humans and human corpses (if they can dig their way into a grave), miscarried deer remains — as in, they “have been observed intentionally startling a pregnant deer in the hopes of a miscarriage whose remains they can eat.” (Wikipedia.)

He has insanely virulent bacteria living in his mouth (think E. coli and staph, sharing a community with 55 other gross strains). Even though he could probably bite his victims and then wait for the bacteria to kill them, he also has venom at his disposal, which causes hypothermia and bleeding to death.

He generally has blood-tinged saliva, caused by the fact that he’s very gummy (his teeth are mostly covered in gum tissue) and he gets all cut up during a feast. After he eats 80% of his body weight by swallowing an animal whole or in chunks, he drags himself “to a sunny location to speed digestion, as the food could rot and poison the dragon if left undigested for too long.” (Wikipedia.) Ew.

At some point he will fight other males for territory and females. He often vomits or defecates in preparation for the fight. The winner of the fight for a woman’s hand will later pin her down to force himself on her, so that she doesn’t lash out and hurt him. But it must just be part of the game, because then they mate for life.

You can read the whole story on Wikipedia, but this is pretty much the highlight tape.

Why am I reading and writing about Komodo dragons at 3am? Good question. Z and I were fighting over whose mouth was cleaner and he told me I had a mouth like a Komodo dragon. I had to look it up.

I am slightly obsessed with oral hygiene, so I take offense to that comment, now that I know what it means. Not true. And totally disgusting.

I was watching “Top Chef” (which I really like, even though I’ve always sworn to hate reality shows until the day I died) last night, and all the Bravo commercials for “Real Housewives of Wherever” made me embarrassed to be a girl. These housewives are celebrated figures deserving of their own show and of an audience — for what reason? Because they’re married to rich men? What an accomplishment. And women in general should be ashamed of themselves for creating the viewer market for that kind of garbage. Am I missing something here? Positively nauseating.