Corduroy

Corduroy: (adj) a cotton-filling pile fabric with lengthwise cords or ridges.

As a young man–being a chubby threatening to be a tubby–I was always looking for an advantage that would open the door to girls whom my basic features had failed fail to attract.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C
I
noticed that women liked to touch soft things, so at a thrift store I found a really plush, thick turtleneck sweater. Girls loved to run their hands up and down it. My thesis was, once they got accustomed to feeling my sweater, touching me might not seem so repugnant.

I found the same thing to be true with corduroy pants—what they referred to as the wide-wale ones. The ladies loved to reach over and stoke my leg, feeling the material.

I had no objection.

I was young—a simple touch on the knee was like an express train with the destination “Ecstasy.”

Here was the problem, though, with my corduroy pants: I had plump thighs, so when I walked my legs rubbed together and wore out the corduroy on the inside. In no time at all, I had the top of my legs covered with corduroy and the inside of my thighs looking like the cheapest cotton ever picked in Dixie.

Pretty soon it became noticeable that my pants were two different textures. Even more obvious was what caused the loss of the corduroy.

So what began as a grand plan to make connection with dear women ended up only pointing out to them that my portly limbs had totally destroyed my corduroy appeal.


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Arm

dictionary with letter A

Arm: (n) each of the two upper limbs of the human body from the shoulder to the hand.

I do believe that many times we are actually upset about how well our body parts work together. Let me explain.

If the foot hurts, the rest of the body expresses its sympathy by having the brain note the pain and informing all the other members that they may be pulling extra duty during the day.

This became obvious to me when I woke up one morning and had slept on my arm in such a way that it felt sprained. The shocker came when I realized that this particular dangling participant in my human form performs many functions that I never even think about. So it was virtually impossible to wash myself in the shower, brush my teeth, comb my hair or reach for my box of cereal at the breakfast table.

Each time I did, I was reminded by a conscientious brain that the part of my anatomy I wished to be using was presently on sick leave.

This was communicated through pain.

Within an hour, though, I had become somewhat adept at utilizing my other arm for some functions. I also used my legs more to perform duties instead of reaching to achieve my quest.

I was mindful of my hurt arm and gave it the respect it was due, while simultaneously trying to gently “exercise” it of its demon.

It lasted all day long–and even though I was very glad when I woke up the next morning to discover I had usage back in my limb, I was impressed by the efficiency of my body and simultaneously humbled that some way or another… I can’t always find that same cooperation with the people around me.

 

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