Day2 - Clipped

Earlier today I had lunch in North Sydney. A woman on the train was happily clipping her nails next to me. Where do the unwanted nails go? On the floor of course.

I watched her for a bit, with more than a modicum of disgust. With claws like that I'm not surprized she needs to carry around an industrial-sized nail clipper (seriously, it was as big as my index finger). Her nails are almost black & appear extremely thick & talon like (& not in a sexy, scratch-your-back sort of way).

Although I just consider myself fortunate to not have received a stray projectile nail in the eye, I was so scarred from the experience that I'm now soothing the pain by laying in a bath watching Black Books.

No iceblocks tonight, but a glass of moscato suits me nicely.

^It seemed to be the most logical solution.