For want of a nail

It’s the little things in life that sometimes are the most important. This is probably because without having control of the smaller, seemingly minor, aspects of your day to day existence problems can grow out of all proportion. Police chiefs insist that by stopping less serious crime the criminally-minded won’t progress into the major leagues. I contacted the police to ask for a search party and was brushed-off politely. Private detectives also weren’t willing to investigate. Last week I lost my favourite set of nail clippers and no one would help to find them.

What’s wrong with that, you say? Nail clippers are ten a finger penny. You can buy them in any store in town. That might be so; in my experience nail clippers are all unique individuals with their own DNA. They all exhibit different characteristics in the same way that all guitar picks have varying temperaments. My lost nail clipper had just the right mix of sharpness and bluntness in its jaws to shape a nail perfectly. Its loss was hard to take.


My house has a whole armada of nail clippers and every one of them is useless. The sharp-shooting cutty shark clipper is more suited to clipping fingers than nails. Then there’s the old rusty Uri Geller clipper that bends the nail without cutting it. The worst of them is Buzz saw clipper. This defiler has steam pouring out of it as it slices the nails leaving them ragged. So you see I had to find the lost clipper.

With no sign or sight of the lost implement my nails were now growing out of hand; I had claws to make Wolverine jealous. Then my mind changed tack. Maybe long nails aren’t so bad. With tentacles like these-

● I can strip wallpaper without a scraper
● eat my food without using a knife and fork
● have no need of a shredder
● carve ice-cubes into ice figures

The advantages were far outweighing the disadvantages until the nails started to curl. The circular coils were digging into my wrists. There was no other thing for it than to bite my nails, though they were a foot long. I chewed and gnawed omnivorously tapering them down. Not since primary school had I tasted the sweet nectar of a nail. Suddenly I could feel an excruciating growing pain in my shoes. My larval toe nails, also unclipped, had forced themselves through the leather. There were ten new talons needing a trim.

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11 Comments on “For want of a nail”


  1. Wow Edward Scissorfeet, I bet your tap-dancing is extraordinary! And you could give tattoos just by doing a Hornpipe on someone.

    I like toenails because my flaming finger ones won't grow at all. Don't think I'd dare brandish one of your clipper collection at them though, specially the steam-powered…

    Instead of clippers, it might be good to have an accurate nail polish squirter, to land bloblessly on nail & not carpet, in alternate harmonious colours. Then wear your nails with pride!

  2. Expat Says:

    Oh, I feel quite sick.

  3. JW10 Says:

    Nail polish. How did I miss that out, Dolores? With extra long nails I could make a tartan design. Or going farther field, I could draw one of those Maori motifs on me nails that people have tattooed on their arms. And when I’m fed up with it not for me the expensive, painful laser surgery of tattoo removal, just a good chew…

    Leading me on to Expat. If it’s not the biting of nails that’s disturbing you it must be the image of eating food using your nails as utensils. That one made me heave a bit as well.


  4. Tartan toenails – FAB! Fascinated by the thought of chewing off the unwanteds – I've just tried and can only get there with my nose. Unlikely to remove a tatoo, unless of course, covered in Tippex…


  5. I've scratched my head long and hard about nails, but I can find no use for them.

    🙂


  6. Hee ho CI. How are you doing – did excavations find proof of fine fettle? Jolly hope so


  7. Hi Dolores!
    Yes, my nail-biting news is I may have angina. But the good news is I've been prescribed a small pump spray that I can carry with me and squirt under my tongue to relieve any chest pains. It contains Glyceryl Trinitrate. Crikey!!! That must be must be related to nitroglycerine!!! So beware! I am now highly explosive!!!.

    The really good news 🙂 is we are now back in sunny Tenerife 🙂 until 11th December, after which I'll have another test and a follow-up meeting with my heart surgeon.

    (I really do sound posh when I refer to “my” heart surgeon).

    How's the projected house move? Will you be ferrying via Caen Oisterhaven to Portsmouth?
    🙂


  8. PS.
    The really funny bit was when I slightly misheard the diagnosis about me having an angina
    🙂


  9. Yes, CI in the sun, What could have brought That on?!

    Good to hear your real diagnosis is under control, though Wiki says it's Painful – I'd be pre-emptive squirting from the moment I woke up.

    And yes, explosively posh person, you certainly should have a heart surgeon to call thine own – far better than scrabbling around for one at the last minute… KEEP WELL!

    Thank you, house move frenzying on. Constant new procedures decreed by the Mairie at this end, and dreadful discoveries of walls imminently collapsing on passers-by at t'other end. Roll on January.

    Take care CI xx

  10. JW10 Says:

    Nice to hear from you, CI and good to know you're still keeping your spirits up. Your dynamic (now super-dynamic) personality always amuses me.
    Best wishes.


  11. That's very kind, JW.
    Onwards and upwards!
    🙂


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