get cracking already

I hazard that almost everyone not made of alien protoplasm has one twisted - pun intended - phobia or two (or more) that simply defies reason and gives one goosebumps the size of bursting nipples and daymares that follow one like shadows, in broad daylight.

I whimpered just reading the headline alone:

Parker Injured in Heels
Former Sex And The City star Sarah Jessica Parker is nursing torn tendons in her foot after running down the street in stilettos. The fashion icon, whose SATC character Carrie Bradshaw lived in sky-high Jimmy Choos and Manolo Blahniks footwear, thought nothing of sprinting down the sidewalk as she had countless times before in her infamous heels. She says, "I ran down the block a few weeks ago in these heels, just like I did for seven years, and woke up in the middle of the night in agony. And it turns out I had torn the tendons in my foot - just from running in heels. It was a little reminder that I am not 27. I'm 40 and your body simply cannot support you in the same way it used to. But I'll never stop wearing heels!"

Now before any bloody twisted thought crosses any human brain worth its weight in loose logic, I DON"T HAVE A HIGH-HEEL FETISH and I DON'T WEAR MY MOM'S HEELS. (Wait - my mom don't even like heels. But anyway...)

Cracking and splitting joints and bones (ankles and wrists especially) ALWAYS get me into this liquid-ice-coursing-through-the-veins feeling-in-my-brain-and-torso stupor. Plus dilating eyes stare.

I can stomach barrels of blood bursting from human bodies, won't bat an eye while bodies explode into gruesome gruel, tap my fingers when manimals get savagely grinded, torn or pierced in the flesh.

But just show me a glimmer of ankle bone twisting and cracking...

*Stomach doing enormous double-take, heave and hurl* (not a pretty sight)

It must be back in that time when I was about 10 (time warp) when I slipped my dainty feet in somebody's wooden hippo-sized clogs while running after anotherbody in them (shades of Parker, though unglam lah).

Am still damning that Somebody and Anotherbody till now, whoever they are.

And am still marvelling at those she-people who can sprint and pirouette down the road like they were a herd of gizelle.

Until they miss that crate and slip and crack and TWACK! goes the ankle, and SPLARG! goes the femur...

Excuse me while I hurl and faint now...