There is a place I remember as being the last place I remember. I'll ask you kindly not to judge me too strongly as I recall the details of the onset of my present condition. There were situations there....Living creatures wore the skin of dead ones. I saw things moving in unnatural ways. Things happening, things deliberately good, things like red traffic lights always being green and hash browns always properly browned on their tops. Other things extreme and far more to the sinister side of things I felt were near.
Time to stifle your shrieks and open your minds, dear readers, for you will find that this is a story outside of the parameters of Judaism. A story not about desecrating The Body, but one of adorning it, rewarding it. It is about a little needle and a whole lot of Bacitracin. You've read the title; you know what I'm talking about.I was not raised in a home particularly concerned with religion. Channukah was just like any other week and cheeseburgers weren't outlawed due to kashrut but for cholesterol content.