Big Toe

Hi. I'm the one who gets stubbed. That's about it. Everyone hates me
- all I do is get stubbed, get blisters in new shoes, in-growing
toenails, am a pain in the arse to keep trim. And I'm not exactly the
most attractive part of the body. And even when I try to look nice and
grow some hair - people freak out. Some people seem to be a bit
squeamish about hairy toes.

I used to feel proud of myself and important as a crucial part of
walking - but that's been proved wrong. A mate of mine's attached to a
young Russian ballerina, and she had him......broken. Poor thing's a
complete vegetable and she seems to be able to walk fine (and dances
rather well too, and can be seen at the Opera House April 12-18 tickets
only 22.50)

Still - I guess it's not a bad life being the big toe. At least I'm the
manager of the another 4 useless digits and I have regular kick-off
meetings with the other big toe, old lefty over there. We don't get on
very well, except for at the monthly Corpus Forum where we have to
fight against the other organs - like the fussy hands or the pedantic
ears - and of course; the ever whinging back.

Anyway - better get back to the boys now. They're a bit agitated.
They've been locked up for the past 6 hours in one of those new
fashionable but incredibly pointed high-heeled stilettos - you know the
ones that look like they need to be sharpened with a pencil sharpener.
Better get back and make sure they're not rubbing each other up the
wrong way - blisters is all I need.