Toes are disgusting and I said it in three words
Today I have a hodge podge of thoughts that are unrelated and rambling. So rather than attempt to make them relate to each other I’m just slapping them down stream of consciousness style.
Gross toes
I recently ran across a post that explained how to better use alt tags on images in blog posts. The idea, I believe, is that the correct tags on your image may increase the chance of your photo appearing on the front page of a Google image search.
If that image shows up on the front page, a person interested in said image is more likely to click on the link which then sends that person to your blog. And that potentially increases your traffic.
So I’ve noticed lately that the masses are really into gross toes. I do not understand this fetish but it’s clearly out there. Quite a while ago I got sidetracked in a post and wanted to know what the Canadian Goods and Services Tax was. As I set off on my Google trail I eventually ran into a picture of … anyone? Anyone?
Yes. Gross toes.
The photo was not labeled as such but believe me, they were a train wreck. If you must see a set of gnarly red toenails, they are here. Yuck.
Anyway there are a ton of folks who come here to the Cardiogirl Empire to see that photo. So I’ve added some more tags to that photo, words I think people will use to search for that type of picture. I haven’t seen a huge influx of traffic because of that, but I have seen more people arrive from a search on that picture.
I find that bizarre.
In three words
A week or so ago Kathy from the Junk Drawer threw down a tweet about a relatively new blog, In Three Words, that posts a photo and then asks for comments using just three words. It’s very cool and has become a new obsession for me.
It’s also a fun writing exercise for a chick who can be verbose, such as myself.
Alright, I’ll admit that I cheat take artistic license. I tend to leave two to seven three-word sentences in the same comment. My reasoning is that I’d rather leave one comment than three or seven.
Think what you will.
Anyway, each time a new post appears, the title is the explanation. Today we are challenged with telling President Obama one thing. The actual post title is “If you could tell him one thing.” You can just head on over there to see what words of wisdom I imparted.
And I will tell you that I am super jacked to be comment numero uno, baby.
Change might not be such a horrid thing after all
I don’t like change. It messes with my mojo and I am completely against it.
So when I workout at the YMCA I hop on an elliptical machine in the third row. It’s what’s comfortable and I don’t care to be in the front row which faces a wall of mirrors.
But there’s a woman who uses the machines in the third row who I have dubbed The H Bomb. She passes noxious fumes as part of her routine. Apparently it must vary with her diet because I have been the recipient of shock and awe bombings that occur every four to six minutes as well as spaced out bombings that range between 10 to 15 minutes.
Obviously I prefer a low fiber day around her, but overall I don’t think it’s asking too much to workout without smelling another person’s gas. Am I being a prima donna?
I don’t care if you do think I’m being a snob. At the gym I want to smell sweat, period. I’ll even take a bit of BO in there just to be flexible.
So the other day, as I was heading to the third row I walked halfway down the aisle before I realized the only machine open was … anyone? Anyone?
Yes. The one right next to The H Bomb. I stopped short, pivoted and went directly to the front row. And I had myself a dandy workout. I cannot tell you how good it felt (and smelled) to be two rows away from her and upwind. It was fantastic.
It really did improve my workout experience. But even better it helped realize that change might actually be good in some instances.
So let me summarize in many three-words sentences.
Toes are gross.
Three words rule.
H Bomb sucks.
H Bomb stinks.
H Bomb’s banned.
H Bomb’s gross.
Cardiogirl is happy.
Now carry on.
You could always call over to her and ask her if she smells something funny?
I’m comment #2 on In Three Words.
I would never have the guts to say that to her. I should, but I know I can’t. Too bad you don’t live down the street, I know you’d come with me and say it to her for me.
Way to go Solomon on commenter number two!
I found the same disgusting toes when I did a search for my Toenail post! Ick! I just wanted a big toe picture and I could not believe that people are so obsessed with posting festering toe photos! What is the deal? (shudder)
I used to go to the gym in my community, which is LOADED with seniors. Okay, I get that seniors have to work out too, but the time that I had available was apparently Senior Citizen Hour and it was GROSS!!!
There was old guy on bike, wearing the same gym clothes every single day, and he pulled on his jowls on his face while he pedaled away. What is THAT?! I didn’t know you need to work out the skin on your jowls! I missed that memo.
Then there was Coiffed Lady. She had a big puffy hairdo, nails done, wearing the same gym clothes everyday, and the Non-dirty never-seen-an-actual-workout K-Swiss gym shoes on her feet. She never broke a sweat on the treadmill–she just chatted with her senior pallies.
Then there was Arty Farty. He would somehow always find me on the treadmill and fart away. The WHOLE time I was there. I could not stand it.
I tried going to this community center a few years in a row, thinking that maybe these people have gone away, but they didn’t. I cannot work out with the weird-ass seniors, I’m sorry. And what is it with Senior and their penchant for K-Swiss gym shoes?????
They put a pool in recently, and I shudder to think what is going on in that water. I cannot fathom putting my toe in, more or less my whole body. I see what they are doing in the gym–what are they doing in the water? Ick.
Oh, I’m patching the “hole” in my blogroll list today. :)
YES! (pumps fist in the air 17 times) I made it on your blogroll!
Now on to the seniors. I agree, those seniors can be somethin’ else, however. H Bomb appears to be in her mid to late 20s. She should definitely know better.
Yuck!!! I can’t believe she passes gas regularly while working out!! Stick with the front row CG, sounds much safer!
It’s disgusting, right? How can someone be oblivious to the fact that they are flatulently adding to the workout experience? Grr. I will be making the front row my home base from now on.
I too have toe issues, you will never catch me googling for toe pictures. As a kid, I had this really nice neighbor lady. The only problem was that she wore flip flops a lot. Her toenails were really thick, yellow and long and her nail polish was always peeling off (sorry for the details). I cringe just thinking about it. As a result, I can’t bring my self to paint my toenails due to my irrational fear of my toenails looking like hers.
My three words for today: will it end?????
I did make the mistake a while ago of clicking on a link someone provided in Flickr for disgusting toenails. Why? I have no idea. There were many, many photos of large feet in high heel shoes with the longest toenails you have ever seen. I’m positive you have never seen toenails like that before.
It brings up all kinds of questions regarding socks and close-toed (closed-toe?) shoes. (Shudders, convulses and shivers uncontrollably)
Thanks for a new way to waste time! I just did one of those three word thingies.
Smelly gym experience sounds bad. I’ll stick to my little weight bench in my basement.
Great Monday post!
Hey sw! You must have been here leaving this comment while I was over at In Three Words reading your comment. How funny is that? I’m betting your workout in your basement is a better sensory experience than mine.
Oh, this poor lady. Can you imagine being famous at your gym for your heinous fumes? Oh, the horror. If I let out one really mighty fart, I might drop my membership, change my hair color, and hide in my house for a year.
This reminds me of a lady I knew growing up who had some kind of terrible digestive problem that made her burp every minute or two. Like a giant crazy bullfrog. I’ve never seen (or heard) anything like it. And she was so used to it that she would let out these ridiculously loud belches and then just keep talking. But for the uninitiated, it was disconcerting. And hard to keep a straight face when you’re ten years old.
“So I was saying BEEEEELLLLLLLCCCCHHHHH to Doris, you just can’t BEEEEELLLLLLLCCCCHHHHH do that or else BEEEEELLLLLLLCCCCHHHHH you could hurt yourself. BEEEEELLLLLLLCCCCHHHHH. You know?”
It would be terrible, having that reputation and I would have to do what you would do — go undercover elsewhere or buy an elliptical machine for the house.
That’s crazy about the neighbor lady. I suppose you can get used to any kind of ailment, seeing as she didn’t even realize she was doing it after a while. Man she would make an awesome character in an Indie film, wouldn’t she? Like a secondary character in Napoleon Dynamite.
And here I am fretting because my toe nail cracked a bit, so my big toe’s nail is really short and not exactly even! Yet I keep my feet taken care of and the nails polished. We’re not supposed to wear shoes on the pool deck at swim lessons, you see, so my feet are bared to the world twice a week. That, and I love to wear sandals.
Ugh, I can’t believe that woman passes gas so frequently! I would be totally embarrassed!! You just brought up a memory I thought I had suppressed, though. We were living in Illinois at the time, so I think I was about twelve, and we were in gym class doing pushups. All of a sudden, I passed gas. I couldn’t help it or stop it! And the entire class dissolved into gales of laughter. I never did live that one down. Maybe that’s why I don’t go to the gym… Hehe.
Blue, I am absolutely certain your toes pass mustard.
And I have to admit I did laugh like an adolescent boy when reading your comment. I would love to see Meg from The Family Guy experience that at school. Or has she already?
Oh! I’m reading a Robin Cook novel right now and one of the characters was an advertising/PR guy who did his undergrad at Harvard and then got a degree from Rizz-Dee! I TOTALLY thought of you when I read that. I would have never stopped on that paragraph if you hadn’t mentioned that.
Oh, Bluesleepy, I sooo connect with your pain. I let one loose on the uneven bars during gym class in the 6th grade. There were these girls who referred to me as “smelly” for years afterwards. I was so traumatized, I have not spoken of such incident until now. Thanks for the therapy. I’m a little less scarred today sharing your pain.
Oh Lin, that’s priceless. Got a big smile going over here.
No! NO! NO! You aren’t supposed to smile! You are supposed to put your arm around my shoulders sympathetically and say “Oh, hon…it’s okay. Those were very mean girls and you didn’t deserve that.” I hate those girls to this day. I even hate them when I see them at reunions.
(shakes the laughter out of her face) You are absolutely correct Lin. Those girls were very mean and should not have done that. Ever.
If you and I ever meet, we’re going to get drunk on Whiskey Head Bumps and egg those chicks’ houses.
I’ll drive.
Whisky head bumps???? Never heard of those, sounds interesting.
Thank you, Lin. I think the only way I got away from any long-term teasing was we moved about a year after that horrific event, and we moved to Nebraska — far, far away. Thank god for military parents!!!! I’m so glad I was able to assuage some of your scarring. It does help, knowing that someone shares such a terrible experience.
CG, you giggled??? Have you no sympathy?? Have you no heart??? Great, you’ve now set me years behind in my therapy.
I just keep thinking of Monty Python and the Holy Grail where someone says “I fart in your general direction”. Don’t ask me why.
Thanks for the support here, Blue. CG is lucky I’m forgiving her initial heartlessness.
Oh, Cardigan–I was waiting for a comment from you on my blog today. Thought you might get a giggle from the picture.
@Buf A while ago Lin said her orange cat Hobbes would send me *whiskery* head bumps but I kept seeing *WHISKEY* head bumps. Don’t know why, because home girl does not like whiskey.
Anyway, I said it would be fun to create a drink called a Whiskey Head Bump and ever since I’ve been talking about that as if it’s a drink.
I still think it’s an awesome name for an elixir.
@Blue (hangs head in shame) Yes. I did giggle. No, strike that. I laughed, out loud. I should not have, but I did. Saying my Hail Mary’s now in order to avoid the depths of Hell, although Lin may have sent me there already.
@Lin I got a massive giggle from both yesterday’s photo and today’s photo. As you have noticed I have been AWOL on the web. No real excuse, just not managing time well. I did love the first photo, more than the second I must admit. The wife-beaters, the baseball hats, golf clubs, the golden hue from the 70s, it was all so perfect! Loved it! You must share more photos!
This was a spectacularly funny post! Thank you for my laugh today… And I can just picture Wendy’s belchy lady – I love that phrase, “…like a giant crazy bullfrog.”
I’m so glad you enjoyed today’s offerings! But as I have said before I’m only as good as the discussion going on the VIP Lounge ala Wendy’s belchy lady.
Maybe she first started working out? Something similar happened to me when I first started busting it on my elliptical after several years of being sedentary. About 20 min into every workout for several weeks, I needed a serious bathroom break. Talk about ruining one’s motivation. Maybe you could politely strike up a conversation suggesting she eat more carbs and Gatorade before she really starts “busting out her moves.”
I also hate feet, I dated a guy with a foot fetish. It was…alarming. My stepbrother’s were so gnarly, my mother made him always keep his socks on in common living areas. Blech. Thick toenails make me gag. Seriously.
Well, in terms of speaking to the H Bomb, it violates my rule of engagement at the Y. Which is — there shall be no engagement at the Y.
I don’t like talking to anyone at the Y. I’m there on a mission to burn 820 calories. I don’t want something silly like talking to another person to get in the way of that.
And I had to laugh my ass off regarding your stepbrother’s toes and your mother’s mandate.
Yeah, but major stink bombs have to interfere with calorie productivity, maybe you could bribe an employee to bring it up. Thumbs up for shifting confrontation.
If Mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy. She had it cross stitched above a kitchen counter.
I actually wonder what an employee would say or do if I mentioned that. Can you imagine?
“Excuse me. Yes, I’m noticing a lot disturbing smells emitting from that woman there. The one with her head down and the baseball cap. Yeah, she’s wearing a black jacket. That’s her.
“She’s passing gas crazily. Can you make her stop? Thanks.”
End scene.
I am proud to declare that I had a pedicure on Saturday, so my toes are definitely not gross – booyah!
“I’ll even take a bit of BO in there just to be flexible.” HA!
In three words: this post rocked.
Oh Cate! I know your peds are posh, no question.
You are much too good to me. Thank you!
I totally HATE fart fumes and I cannot believe someone would do that in the middle of a public place. I can see once in a while MAYBE one slipping out but even thnking about that happening to me makes my face turn red! I have to warn you though, depending on how many boys you let hang out at your house as your girls get older, their is nothing funnier to middle school aged boys than stinking up a room. Trust me, I have had to endure more than a human should have to regarding fart fumes. Stay in the front row, sister!
I have to say there’s not much worse than fart fumes, Susan. Perchance the smell of bleach while attempting to eat a tasty Baha Beef Chalupa at Taco Bell runs a close second. I actually don’t know which one I would choose if forced.
I’m sure I must have let one slip inadvertently at the Y, I’m not perfect. But I don’t remember it and *if* it happened it was a one-time deal, though I’m not copping to anything.
Ugh, I think I shall never have a middle school boy in this house for that reason. Thanks for the heads up!
I like feet.
Nice clean feet.
My back hurts.
Tagging my images.
From now on.
:-)
Angelika, for some reason when I read “I like feet” I heard Sir Mix-A-Lot sing “I like big FEET and I cannot lie…”
(whispers) Mr. Martin’s phalanges ain’t cute either. (sprints away)
Oh yeah……and the winner of the grossest toes award goes to whichever dude had the toenails that they trimmed with a chainsaw in Dumb and Dumber! YUK!
Oh gawd, Susan. The imagery. I have never seen Dumb and Dumber and I absolutely can guarantee you that now I will never see that movie, either.
CardioGirl,
1) Try Interval Training
2) Armwrestle a Girlfriend
3) Fingers beat Toes
4) Methane is energy
Mik
Mik, I thought I told you about my irrational fear of snapping the bones in my forearm. I have never arm wrestled anyone and I am truly afraid of even *considering* it.
Now snaps on the three word sentences.
Well done, Mik.
Thanks for visiting.
See you around!
Awesome post, CG. Thanks for the laugh and way to move to the front row! The three words thing is funny. I like everyone’s use of it here in the lounge. I’ll have to make my way over there.
Also – I thought of you on Saturday night when I hugged a couple goodbye that I met for the very first time that afternoon. They leaned in for it too, so it was all good with the reading of the body language. Haha.
You know it wasn’t so bad there in the front row. I might have to consider making it my go-to row.
I’m so glad the body language was in synch with the new couple. Nothing worse than leaning in and then having to awkwardly stop and reassess.
Gyms seem to bring out the gas in many people. Especially during yoga, I find, but to be fair we are doing “wind-releasing” poses! However, I’d be mortified if I let one loose. It’s amazing how some people just don’t care. I sympathize if they simply can’t help it, especially if you’re running, but only to a certain extent. If you have terrible gas (she can’t possibly be oblivious), there are ways to fix that. I work at a naturopathic clinic, and it’s probably one of the number one complaints of patients. Most of the time, they have food intolerances.
Anyway, the stories remind me of one of my own particularly embarrassing one. I’d just started dating my now husband, and one day he was over at my apartment. We were swapping gym workout achievements, and I was like, Oh yeah? Feel these abs! I flexed, he poked, I let one rip. Totally by accident. It was so hilarious and mortifying and both of us just stood there for a few seconds in shock before I collapsed on the bed in a fit of giggles. Oh my GOD.
Truthfully, I bet he was secretly pleased. It seemed to give him permission to feel free himself. SIGH…even still, 8 years later.
Steph, I have read your story three separate times now (the poke in the abs) and it gets a belly laugh from me each time. That is priceless!
I have never performed yoga but I swear I truly would enter a Witness Relocation Program if I ever let one slip in a yoga class. I really would never want to show my face again.
Er, excuse my errors in the comment above.
Um, no problem. I didn’t see anything jump out at me, but we’re cool.
I love your avatar. Every time I see it I hear, “Word Girl!” Way to go!
I admire you for working out in the face (or should I say nose?) of such a strong obstacle.
Also, thanks for the plug. I appreciate that!
No problem, Musing! Excellence must be rewarded, methinks.
Yeah, that H Bomb is somethin’ else.
i like using the same machine at the gym downstairs too and doing my exercises in order. some days, i think i’m a robot.
“Obviously I prefer a low fiber day around her, but overall I don’t think it’s asking too much to workout without smelling another person’s gas. Am I being a prima donna?”
h*ll to the naw.