Varicose veins

Who is Veins?

I've heard of all sorts of veins. There are the veins in your shoes, the kind that roam with the buffalos, and the shower curtains you use to contain bodily fluids when your eardrums burst. But we aren't talking about THOSE kinds of veins. We are talking about THESE kinds of veins. Varicose veins. They aren't slightly cose. They aren't pretty cose. They are VERY cose. And on a good day, they are VERY VERY Cose veins. Let's take a look at what we find. And after that, we can have a bath. You know how stinky you can get when you get too excited about your varicose veins.

you ask the questions. but the answers lie within.

Let me take you to the moon

The moon is where we get our varicose. close.

close.

close.

Okay good. That will do. Let me tell you something, kid. You're in it for the long run. One time, way back when,

I danced like I’d knot known it was impassible

Snickerdoodle

Jusf nee kelp

^{Help me.}

Soren’s legs kept falling off.

And every time he’d glue them both on, they’d somehow be upside down. It caused great ache in pelvis. He glanced behind him, and sure enough, the squid was still following.

“Stop,” he cried, but it paid no attention.

“Grglglrgl, waff waff,” It mumbled back to him.

“Sir, I don’t have those anymore; I relinquished them to the treelord last month. PLEASE,” Soren begged. But his legs fell off again. This time the squid was closer. He fumbled with his appendages, and the squid approached. “Please,” Soren implored once more…

Soren's eyes were heavy with the sorrow of a thousand starfish

But it was too late. The squid lifted its tentacles to reveal 8 bars of soap, one clinging to each of his flippers. The washing began.

Soren had little choice but to acquiesce to the gentle ministrations of the squid and his legion of scrubbing bubbles. The later was thick, the water warm; he could almost forget the terrible series of events that had led him to this odd ablution.

“Whaff. Grllgrlt-ta fawt.” The squid seemed to be resigned to the loss of its brethren, but not pleased with it in any way.

“They died bravely. Mind the toes! Those blisters burst and my pelvis will pay the price! The treelord had promised them a chance at glory and they knew what they were getting into when I released them into his charge.”

The squid was mollified by this, as Soren knew he would be. A squid’s lust for glory was ever their weakness.

“Trtt. Pbpt-po-po?” The squid had finished the wash and was not giving Soren the first shave he’d had in a month’s time.

His pores were now sweltering red with the cleanliness of a thousand round baby bottoms. The liquefied pustules that were Soren’s fingertips were tingly to the touch. He looked deep into the squid’s eyes which had now begun to bleed.

“Hark, hark I command it.” And with those words, the squid slowly morphed into the shape of a man. The process was mesmerizing, tentacles turned to arms and legs, a neck and torso materialized from nowhere. The squid was now a balding man, with the appearance of a man in his mid to late fifties. His eyes were filled with wisdom, but his skin still retained its youth.

“Los olvidados no se pueden olvidar,” the man said. Soren could not decipher these words, and instead dropped to his knees and cried.

The phone rang. The caller wishes to speak for you.