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The Joy of Splinters
Seems ages since we had a decent thread (and this probably won't be one either).
I hear they're called skelfs north of the border and here in Norfolk people call them shivers. I guess that's where "shiver me timbers" comes from.
I quite like getting a splinter because I enjoy digging them out, even more so I like someone else to dig it out for me. If that makes me a sex pest then so be it.
My favourite splinter memory was of one that had gone straight into the tip of my finger and was impossible to remove manually. It took about a week to come out on it's own - and when it did it rose out of the top out of my finger like Excalibur appearing from the lake. Except instead of an arm in white samite accompanying it, it came forth on a surge of pus.
Happy times.
And no, this thread is not about that twat of a rat in the silly kung fu turtle thing you all watched as kids. Grow up, you pricks.