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  Someone tell me, and be honest, what the f*ck is the point of the pinkie toe? You know the one. That little useless bastard hanging out with all the other toes as if it serves any purpose. F*cking poser. The one with the pathetic little nail. The one that seems to have less joints than all the others. It provides no balance. Why? Because it has no strength.
It makes shoes too tight, sure. Especially cool shoes that would fit perfectly if not for that lingering little f*cker. Like a badass pair of 3-eye'd Dr. Marten's that are just like the pair you had in 12th grade. Shoes that make you feel like you need your own theme song. Shoes that could make women love you and kick through a man's skull all in a day's work.
It can't pick up a damn thing, this useless toe. I have never used that little appendage to hang from a tree or use chop sticks.
Now the big toe; that guy's cool with me. He's useful and works hard. He keeps me balanced. His nail is worthy of being there. He can point to things and with the help of his friend next to him, he can hold chop sticks or a pencil or other small objects like Lego pieces or bugs. He can push buttons and tickle my wife whether she likes it or not (and she doesn't, but it's funny). Long story short; Big toe = cool. Little toe = completely f*cking worthless.
 But here is what the little (pinkie) toe can do; he can break.
He can take the opportunity present in a half inch miscalculation while passing an antique desk on your way to the bathroom in a great rush because you have to pee (and let's take a moment here to pay respect to the greatest of all appendages) and he can catch himself perfectly on the leg of the aforementioned antique desk and make an unnatural 90 degree turn and break.
Now is his fifteen minutes of fame (not to mention a fifteen minute dissertation on the various variations of the word "F*ck").
For nearly thirty years he's been silent. Useless. Forgotten. He's the toe no one thinks about. But now, now is his time to shine. Because as small as he is; he hurts like a bitch when he breaks. And though he never played any part in walking; never contributed a God damned thing, you can bet that now that he has the attention he always desired, he will take full advantage. He will make walking an excruciating experience. He will convince the rest of your foot (who up until now did a great job) that it is in tremendous pain and should no longer function.
Little bastard.
So you do what any boy would do and you tape him to the other stronger toes in hopes of keeping him calm and still, immobile if you will, and hopefully; happy.
But no. No, that little f*cker won't let it go that easily. Suddenly, out of nowhere, he is the toe everyone must step upon. He is the toe that must be in the way of f*cking everything. He is the toe that keeps you up all night because every time you roll over or change positions he screams "F*ck! I hurt. I am here and I matter! You can't ignore me any longer!" So you wake up and pay him the attention he has always longed for.
You try to be cool about the whole thing. You say "Dude, I'm sorry. I never should have neglected you the way I did. I promise I will pay you more respect in the future. I realize you are important. I promise we will be friends. But the thing is; I have to sleep. And you are keeping me from sleeping. And there are a lot of body parts that are more important than you. First and foremost, my brain. I know you haven't met him, but my brain is great. He works hard and he gets me through the day. He's weird, and he likes to f*ck with me, but I need him, and he needs sleep. So can you just chill for a while and be quiet? It would mean a lot to us if you would."
But the little f*cking pinkie toe is letting no one steal his thunder. So we stay up all night together doing nothing.
He complains; I try to acquiesce. It's never good enough. And apparently it won't be for six to eight weeks. And he wins.
But I will tell you this and I mean it; the first chance I have to cut that useless little f*cker off my foot, I'm taking it. I don't give a sh*t about my feet looking funny. Function above form, my friends. He had his chance to make nice and chose otherwise. Now, it's war.
Stupid f*cking toe. |
The Mick
