Actually demon, singular,
It all started when I kicked a power supply early this summer (Not intentionally, mind you. I like my power supplies.) and my big toenail separated from my toe. I know, gross. And it hurt like a fracking monkey fuggler. After some time passed, it never healed and attached to my toe again. So I wondered what to do.
Being here in the East Texas pine forest, I did what everyone would do. Well, I didn't use a knife. I trimmed it down to the point where it was attached and hoped it would grow normally. Needless to say, that did not work.
In the mean time, I've tried to clean it obsessively, drip my essential oils down in there, etc. but to no avail. It finally started to put up a ruckus so loud that if I'm sleeping lightly I'd rather chop the darn thing off than live another moment. Plus it turned a funny color. I know, there's a fungus amungus. Whatever.
Yes, I could go to the local quack shack (she's not a quack by far, but that's what I call it). And have Dr. Perkins (And she is every bit as perky as her name...I mean, Carly Perkins...holy cow she's a bundle of energy and probably a former cheerleader...or not, but I'd put her in front of a crowd.) perform the exorcism. But why when I have all the tools I need right here?
So I woke up to an aching toe about thirty minutes ago and took matters into my own hands. Toenail removed....again. Ugly funky-colored spot gone. Everything clean, but a slightly awkward-looking half-toenail remaining. Thank goodness it's boot season pretty much 24-7 around here.
Demon begone. *Imperial wave*
Scat
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