Valerean

This is what I wake up to every morning: Spiderman hand. To celebrate that, here are: Ten Positive Things About Having Arthritic Hands Arm-wrestling challenges are never made to me. For Halloween I really can dress up as Spiderman, and I'll look very authentic. I always get a pass for not having a proper manicure. I don't have to do anything that requires the wearing of gloves for the rest of my life. People who know me never try to shake my hand. People who don't try, stop when they actually see my hand, look horribly embarrassed, and then apologize profusely. Picking out what rings to wear is not a problem (can't slip any past the swollen joints.) Polite applause is never expected of me. The Asian guy in the mall who tries to wheedle passing people into his massage salon only grimaces at me. The impulse to give people who drive badly the finger remains just an impulse. When my guy and I are out he doesn't try to hold my hand. He keeps an arm aro...

Fun fact: Mr. Oliver can trace his half ancestry back to Scotland, thanks to his Mom. On his Dad's side the DNA is French and German (we don't know what I am, but I might get one of those ethnicity tests one day to find out.) I was looking up some Scottish jokes the other day to send to Oliver's Mom, and found these: What's That A shifty-looking guy in a kilt walks into a London pub. He orders a pint, and very very carefully puts down the duffle bag he is carrying. The bartender asks, "What's that?" The guy leans forward, and in a whisper says, "6 pounds of explosives." "Thank Christ for that," says the bartender, looking relieved now. "I thought it might be bagpipes." Sorted A Scottish dad calls his son in London the day before Christmas Eve: “I hate to ruin your holidays, son, but I have to tell you that your mother and I are divorcing. Forty-five years of misery is enough.” "Dad, what are...