the ugly truth

As part of the punishment  reward for receiving The Memetastic Award, I was challenged to share four bold-faced lies with you, throwing just one truthful tidbit into the mix. As I detailed to reader and fellow Queen Meme, Dana, I cannot lie. Not properly, anyway. I had the added benefit of typing these falsehoods from behind a computer screen, so my face was not present to truly ruin things. Nervous eyes, chewing of lower lip, scrunching of the nose, my physical reaction when failing to tell the truth is about as painfully obvious as the  neon, LIAR shirt I’m wearing.I took some comfort in blogging rather than speaking these unfortunate statements, as I can also mutilate a lie by twisting the tone of spoken lies until they sound like questions and not confident sentences:  “Your hair looks greatttt?”, “Smoke? I don’t smoke?” (cigarette falls from my pocket, I lean down to fetch it, releasing a cloud of retched smoke into the air). So, I wrote five statements that were absolutely true, skewing only the tiniest number or name to create four semi-lies. I am told, this method for misleading is ridiculous, and the truth is quickly identified. Now, for the  already-obvious results.

 I regularly watch Dr. Phil to feel better about my life. UN-TRUTH! I am working on a scientific study to prove that Dr. Phil is 1 part water, 1 part Satan, 3.6 parts reincarnation of Jack The Ripper, and 2 parts displeasure personified. From his twitching eye to his troublesome mustache, no part of engaging in his television sermon makes me feel happy. In fact, “End life” is normally the thought that comes to mind when I see his shiny head. I do watch a plethora of other trashy shows to give myself the ol’ confidence boost: Teen Mom, Teen Mom 2, Toddlers & Tiaras, Toddlers With 2 Teen Moms Wearing Tiaras, etc.

I performed an interpretive dance to Coolio’s “Gangsta’s Paradise” for a packed high school auditorium. DOUBLE UNTRUTH! Oddly, choosing to twirl to the rapper’s lyrics of gang violence and the Valley of Death would have produced more positive results. I did perform a contemporary dance to an angry, feminist song by Ani DiFranco in front of a crowd consisting of protein-chugging football players and actual gang members. Rumors swirled that I was emotionally disturbed. Clearly they didn’t get the metaphor in my flex-point-high kick.. In the mean hood halls of an urban high school, Coolio would’ve earned me some major street cred.

" I'm 23 now, but will I ever see 24? The way things is goin', I dunno." - Coolious Maximum

I actually know how to spell Squaw without looking it up. Shame. Boatloads of shame. I’ve avoided the angst of the word for ages. It wasn’t until writing the other day that I was shocked to find I still can’t spell it. You haunt my soul, Pocahontas.

When Dad is away, I encourage Baby to play with my hair accessories. He prances around the house holding a curling iron and wearing a plaid headband. I call him, Susan. SO CLOSE TO TRUTH IT KILLS ME! He goes by Susie, a delightful and dainty little lass with the fairest hair in the land. From Hoss to Hottie with the simple flick of a curling iron! Other favorite hobbies: skipping, batting of the eyelashes, and girl talk.

Drumroll, please. The ugly, ugly, truth is…

I HAVE THREE ANKLES!!!!

In all reality it isn’t as bad as it seems. Except it IS. Although I was born with two lovely ankle bones, a botched surgery (did you know you can get Botox in your feet?) mangled the foot region. My extra lady bump, whom I fondly call Henry, is a cross-breed between a pointless old ankle bone and a multi-functional hand. Hand? foot? Fand?

I’ve learned to incorporate Henry into the daily routine, dressing him in plush socks and occasionally giving him a well-oiled rub. In return, he has learned to scoop things up off the floor (pacifiers, car keys, crumbs). He also performs a lovely rendition of Ave Maria through pops! cracks! and grindingbone! that could move a grown man to tears.

{Crowd begins applauding only to realize the ugly truth of what was just said. Babies shriek from the sight, mothers hide behind their sobbing babes, and The Ramblings’ readership declines 183%. People can no longer laugh and happily read along, haunted by the image of orthopedic deformity lurking beyond the computer screen.}

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36 thoughts on “the ugly truth

  1. While your truth does include disturbing visual images, they are not enough to scare me away from my daily dose of Rambling humor. I actually miss you when you don’t write over the weekends. If you can stand by my pig loving, legendary bra wearing self–I can stand by your three ankles! :) I have yet to tell the whole truth about my truth. I’m trying to find the journal entry where I first wrote about it so that I can include all of the twisted details.

    I kind of found this fun, having to write something that needed further explanation. I’m trying to think of ways to challenge fellow bloggers like this (without including ugly kittens on a plaque). Any ideas?

    • Haha! I love pigs, too. I think because my crazy neighbor growing up had pigs instead of dogs. They wore collars and ate with the family, and I was so jealous it hurt.
      I thought about putting together some kind of bloghop thingy majigger, just a way for people to read new stuff. Problem is, I am techno-stupid, so the thought of organizing something on the computer makes me a little nervous :)

      • What I wish could happen is some easier way to track comments. I mean, I often come back to check to see if people have responded to me, but I want a way to get a response without getting every single one. I like the idea of some kind of bloghop, but I have no clue how to go about it.

  2. Ha ha ha…I had a feeling, given your overall attitude and sense of humor, that Dr. Phil didn’t fit the mold of the guy who brought you inspiration. Your “End life” comment is funny! Baby looks cute in the plaid headband…and besides, the time will come soon enough when he’ll shun all female things. I sure hope the botched operation wasn’t too painful. Who would have guessed that such a wild story could be true. But you proved it!

  3. That photo was really disturbing. One Dr Phil is bad enough. Two is beyond comprehension. As for your ankle bones, It’s a lovely quirk. Sorry about the botched surgery, though. You’re a funny lady, through it all.

    • Lovely quirk. I think I might try to use this as a confidence-boosting mechanism! I’ve managed to do alright, although my childhood dream of modeling for Dr. Scholls is pretty much shot :(

  4. I love Dr. Phil-isms. My favorites are “that’s the tail wagging the dog” and “that’s like shooting a mosquito with a 12 gauge shot gun” Your ankles certainly are a sight! Did you get cankles when you were pregnant?

    • Haha! I PRAYED FOR CANKLES! I thought if my ankles got puffy enough, the third ankle would kind of get swallowed up. No such luck. Every other part of my body looked air-filled, but my 3 ankles were perfectly intact.

    • “I’ve seen them in person”…this sounds like it could be a spotting of Loch Ness. I got the surgery sophomore year, so the third ankle wasn’t really nasty until senior year. I’ve tried to measure it before, because I think it’s growing. My theory is that within a few years, Henry will sprout a head and hands, and operate as a fully functional human being!

  5. Oh man, thank you for a another great laugh and giggle. I cant say i’m surprised you know how to spell squaw..squwa sqwa… lol just kidding… kinda. And Henry isn’t so bad.. just think.. it could be worse. Have you seen that adam sandler movie..Mr. Deeds the guy has a dead frost bitten foot. Yeah! See it could be worse.

  6. Oh and i’m sure the picture i just posted in my blog is way worse in scaring ppl away… us larger girls in pixie dresses… eee gads no.. thats true horror right there!

  7. Funny post, Tori. I wouldn’t have guessed the truth. In fact, the truth was the only one I thought for sure was a lie. I have to say that “Susie” is adorable.

    By the way, your ankle doesn’t look bad. I hope it doesn’t hurt.

    • Oh no pain, just a total eyesore! I think Susie is “presh”, but Dad doesn’t tend to approve. I figure I should fit all these fun games in before he turns 10 and is decidedly too cool for me!

    • Trust me, it would’ve been a total hit at my high school. I am convinced I would have gotten at least 3 offers to join different gangs…they always got the best lunch tables :)

  8. Relieved to knew you’re not such a huge Dr. Phil fan, as I can’t stand the man! And I love it that you twisted truth with falsehood in these little”lies.” About the ankle–I bet it only looks strange because of the odd ankle you took the photo from. (Sorry–couldn’t help myself.) Happy Valentines Day, Tori!

    • Haha! It only looks strange if you…look at it. I try to keep Henry covered, but on the rare occasion he is permitted to get some fresh air, I tuck the multi-ankled foot behind the normal one. People don’t normally notice until Henry gets to popping!

  9. Wow, tori, do I feel like a heel now after my silly comment about the three ankles, in your last post. I’m so sorry.
    I am so fascinated by this – you are truly unique! I can’t imagine you would scare anyone away with the photo. Seeing images of Dr Phil and mini-me, as well as the one of Coolio, is pretty disturbing though …
    Sunshine xx

  10. I gotta tell you…this is gonna be hard to get past. I can picture you sitting back in your computer chair sipping a margarita while “Henry” types your daily dose of humor. It’s like the portrait of “The Kramer” from Seinfeld. “It’s a loathsome, offensive brute…yet I cannot turn away.”

  11. Lmao, Tori! I did not expect that! I thought I was dead-on with the interpretive dance. So now I’m extremely curious…what kind of botched surgery results in a third ankle? Was your original ankle broken? Okay, I won’t pepper you with questions…I have so many. Lol. But the biggest one: does it hurt when it pops?

    If it makes you feel any better, I have really gnarly-sounding knees and Achilles’ tendons. When I squat down and stand up, my knees crackle and pop…it’s actually more like a ripping sound. As though I’m shredding the cartilage within. And my Achilles’ tendons can make this funky “raking” sound when I wiggle my big toes in a specific way. Sometimes, when Robert’s giving me a foot rub and I feel like being a total bitch, I’ll wiggle my big toe and make him feel the tendons “rake.” It freaks him out, and he shoves my feet off his lap. Lol…really, I’m the only loser in that scenario.

    But, seriously, though, I’m super curious: what botched surgery could possibly result in a third ankle?

    • Haha! My writing must make me seem far more gangster than I truly am. I had surgery as a sophomore in high school for a tarcel coalition. It is basically when the bone in the back of your foot near the heel fuses with your ankle bone, so you don’t have full range of motion in your foot. Since I danced, I wanted to get it fixed. I can totally move my foot now, but the bump of bone grew back, this time on the front of my foot, under my regular ankle. It hurts after I exercise, but mostly it just grosses people out :)

      • Oh, wow…that’s one hell of a surgery! And I can’t believe the bump grew back! Goodness gracious. Well, I’m sorry to hear that it hurts after exercising–that must really suck for someone who used to dance! :\

  12. Oh my goodness, I laughed out loud at this. I am a lousy liar, too. Love that you tweaked Susie to Susan and called THAT a lie! My mom used to play “here comes the bride” with my nephew. In this game, he walked out from behind her sheer lace bedroom curtains, letting them fall down his back like the train of a wedding dress while she sang the song. She swore him to secrecy because she knew his dad wouldn’t approve. ;-)

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