Belly Button Lint

February 27, 2012

Most people have actual belly buttons.

I mean…. “innies.”

And yes, it took a while to figure out the right way to write that. We’ve been saying “inny or outy?” since we were young, but writing it on paper (or screen, in my case) is a whole different animal.

Anyway, most people have an inny belly button.

The few that have an outy lose it after child.

Whether they put on a few pounds or just lose it through growing and maturing, it really doesn’t matter. What does matter is that outies pop themselves back in, creating the tiny, sweaty lint-catcher that most of us possess.

That is where the problem lies.

Throughout the day, belly button owners everywhere work or lounge or sleep or make love. They do whatever they do, and that makes them sweaty.

That sweat pools in the holes and crevices on our bodies. One of the deepest and most easily accessible ones of these is the one located in the middle of the stomach, away from any other orifice that may drain away all of the sweat.

The slimy liquid sinks into that hole, taking every tiny bit of fiber from the surrounding area with it. The water and fuzz collect in the navel, and throughout the day, the water evaporates, leaving a sticky, smelly, disgusting glob of lint behind.

And what becomes of that lint?

It builds.

And builds.

And builds.

And soon enough, someone comes along and pulls out that putrid pile of dirty, sweaty lint right out of that greasy dimple.

Now, the thing is… what do most people do with that lint?

Usually, they just flick it away or put it into a napkin and flush it down a toilet.

They put it in a trash can or wash it down the drain.

I assume a few might eat it. Seriously.

I watched a girl pick and eat boogers through the entirety of a business meeting not even a week ago. She would scrape around the inside of a nostril with her thumbnail and then take the time to lick the thumb clean afterward.

For an entire meeting.

Roughly three hours.

We had coffee and cookies. She could have had some of those.

But, no. She ate things from her own body.

I didn’t see her eat earwax or belly button lint, but I wouldn’t put it past her.

Now that I think of it, I’ve never seen anyone eat belly button lint, which is definitely a good thing. I’m not sure if I’d be able to handle watching someone do that.

It’s all hair and fuzz.

And strings.

And… sweat.

I really can’t stand the thought of it.

However, for something a bit more festive, I have seen people do good things with lint.

I’ve seen some people who make like sculptures and dolls out of belly button lint.

“Artists”, they call themselves.

What will they think of next?

 

ghjr

 

———————————————————————————————————

 

This is not included in the 500 word limit.

Thanks to Ashton Cutright for what turned into a rather unpleasant post.

I’ve never been a fan of belly button lint.

I hear it smells like hot ass and a dead monkey, but I really wouldn’t know.

Thankfully.

 

Truly ghjr

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