A very long time ago when I was a little kid I saw something in Ripley's Believe It or Not (on the back of a comic book) about a guy that could roll a cigarette and write his name and deal a hand of poker with his feet.
So I tried to teach myself to do stuff with my toes.
But I'm not that coordinated, and I still had my hands so there wasn't the whip of necessity. All I managed to teach myself, really, was to pick up a crayon. Not a particularly sophisticated skill to be sure.
Well the day before yesterday my lower back went completely and miserably gunnybags and guess what?
I got mad skills!!! I can still, 60 years later, pick shit up off the floor with my cute little wrinkly toes which is way more valuable a skill than I ever would have thought....
Otherwise that cute little pink undergarment would have become a tiny and useless pink area rug.
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