To My Sock?

What.  What happened?

Yeah.  So the other day, I kicked the wall.  The reason why I kicked the wall is irrelevant.  I just got a couple of bruises and a dead toe from it.  That wall is a fighter wall.  I’m not kidding.  The toenail was all black and red-tinted.  Bloody toenail.  And I dealt with the pain for the first three days after, and today was the third day of it.

While happily searching the internet for amusing pages, I happened to look down at my socks and oh shit there was a circular bloodstain on the toe.  After describing its appearance to whoever I was chatting with on AIM, I took off my sock.

Fail.

Or win.  I don’t know.  Because my toe was clean, and normal-looking.  After a few days of being used to it acting all black-grey-red, and dreading it leaving me forever (as I believe that is what usually happens to black toenails), it just, healed.  My toe was saved.  My theory was that the blood creature hiding under the nail just crawled out and plastered itself onto the bordering fabric.  Thus the red splotch on the white sock.

On another note, today I went to the mall for some frozen yogurt..

In front of a shop we got dropped off at, there was a two police officers and a police car, with both its right tires parked onto the curb.  This confused me, and because I am often confused and I tend to ramble, I pondered out loud to my friend, C, about whether or not I should ask what is happening.  Then I said something like, “I swear that this is pretty illegal.”

At that moment, the police officers looked over at me, and I just rushed inside the store.  Man, I just want to rant about those officers.  They looked insane, like, the one in the driver’s seat looked all red and stretched out and drunk.  And the one talking to him was all goofy.  They scared me.

I think they were mall cops, actually.