Wednesday, May 17, 2006


Skinning up

I went for a walk in the woods a week or two ago as I was too tired to make my usual Friday evening excursion to the gym. It was a long walk, my three-year-old casual foot gear is past the point of being useful, and as a result I ended up with an enormous blister on my left big toe.

Last weekend I was watching David Cronenberg’s A History Of Violence with my customary bowl of peanuts at hand, and at some point I apparently peeled off my sock and picked at the aforementioned blister. Piercing blisters is generally recommended by medical science as it allows the serous fluid to escape before it turns into frank pus, and the layer of skin left behind provides an effective natural dressing for the tender sore beneath it. The problem arises when the blister has persisted after two weeks, post-piercing, and the skin has dried up over it. You tend to pick at the dead crisp epidermis without thinking, long after it has ceased to perform a useful function.

The upshot of all this is that at some point in my viewing of A History Of Violence, possibly during a fairly explicit sequence (which begins 16 minutes and 30 seconds from the start, not that I noticed it particularly), I must have contrived distractedly to place a fleck of toe-skin in my peanut bowl, because the thing I felt go down my gullet was sort of long and crisp and not at all like a nut.

So I suppose I am a foot eater after all! What are your favourite skin-eating experiences?

For lack of a better place to put it, I swallowed a small piece of my scalp once.
I sometimes bite my lip. Does that count?
There was that wisdom tooth trauma...yeah, yeah, it's coming back to me now.
I had a wisdom tooth come in...which pushed away a flap of skin. The dude sitting next to me at the time it finally broke completely free of my gums begged me to give to him. He was trembling with anticipation and practically frothing at the mouth just asking for it. I asked him what in the space rocket he was going to do with my skin, but he just stared at me with his beady, twitchy eyes. Let's just say I could smell his breakfast of serialkiller on his breath so I gave him the flap of skin. He ate it immediately. eww.
As sick as that is, I still think I made the right choice.
Is this a form of self cannibalism?

For a gross-out tale of self eating - I once knew a guy who would eat the puss he squeezed from his acne.

I wish I hadn't remembered that. I'll just go off and find a toilet to throw up in...
Being a stringed-instrumentalist I regularly get hardened finger-ends on my left hand. I tend to chew these off when bored. They usually taste quite metallic though, having been pressed against the strings.

But nothing more interesting than that. Not with my own skin, anyway.
i used to chew the callouses off my toes. i was young and flexible..

those were the days.

now-a-days when nervous or horney.. or both, i chew my lower lip. i've been told it's sexy. i don't believe it.
Once I had a taste of the brownish-black stuff that gathers under the corners of my big toe nails - the pungent aroma was too tempting to this truffle lover. It tasted very salty, and not at all like chicken. Or truffles.
Not so much popcorn at the movies as popped corns. Probably didn't taste much different.
I feel so fucking nauseous. Lunch is cancelled Footy ye bastard ye.
Fingernail chewing, maybe, but skin.....ugh ..sooooo gross! Footsie, whatever else to you get up to?
Skin? no just the odd bit of tongue or cheek hewn off by my crooked teeth.
Fantastic. I read this while eating my lunch...vegetarian lasagna. Nothing like yanking on a big flap of pasta with some roasted eggplant attached, and then reading this post and its subsequent comments.

Well done, Footie. I'll be another size smaller by Friday.
Oh for fuck's sake... I haven't eaten anything since breakfast and I still feel like I'm about to throw up... nice, Footsie, nice.

That said, I've been a nail-biter for ages, although I'm trying to quit -- so now I just bite my thumbnails. Oh, and the lower lip one is also a favorite, though I'm with Sarah -- not quite sure how that's considered sexy, but if it works...
I have an update. I ate half a fingernail, and may have inadvertantly consumed a portion of a booger.
I used to bite my toenails when I was a child and could bend in the middle. By the way, that is the worst film I have seen in a long while. Shite it was.
Thank you all for your honesty. SafeT, snot doesn't count, nor do blood, urine, semen or faeces.

Rob, welcome. I was rather disappointed with the film, especially as I'm a big Cronenberg fan and the idea was a good one.
But the scalp was ok, right?
Please tell me the scalp was ok!
Yes, toe callouses were the thing in my youth.

My father, the Marquis (97), would beat me severely with the stock of his damascus barrelled Dickson sidelock if he caught me, and make me eat mashed potatoes and parsley sauce with the servants below stairs.

The sap.
Lucien, I know you slipped that comment in belatedly but, you see, when Blogger disallows me to post to my blog, I trawl my previous posts' comments avidly in search of post-hoc pearls. And yours is one such.

Your father was indeed a 'sap'. A Dickson sidelock is not to be used in such a cavalier fashion. He should have hit you with that most excellent of South African weapons, the sjambok. You would have sustained tram-track contusions and very possibly renal failure. That'd've taught you.
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