Well, I don’t normally crossover writing from the day job over here, seeing as Yo, Yenta! is ALL JEWISH, ALL THE TIME.
But I thought the few folks who haven’t seen this hideous view of me yet (Look, Ma! Mud on the orthodontia!) might like this filthy tale. Plus, it revolves around some really sick Holocaust humor.
Every birthday, I renew my contract with life with an action that makes me a shade uncomfortable, like cutting off my hair or say, skinny–dipping in a public fountain.
Any therapist will tell you stepping outside your comfort zone once in a while is a fine idea, right?
Stretching your boundaries builds confidence! they say. Life is nothing without a little risk!
However, when that small step lands you neck–deep in a pit surrounded by Scripture with mud shoved up in places no doctor has ever examined, you may have gone too far.
Also, in case you were wondering, I did break down and get some antibiotics this morning. I had a terrible headache and convinced myself I had contracted encephalitis from the dung river.
I’ve also had to promise El Yenta Man that I will never, ever do this again.