dirty little secrets

Everyone has one, that nastiest of all personal bits of decrepitude. You know. Don't you? That sometimes quirky, sometimes cute, but most often disgusting personal habit. Perhaps something that ONLY YOU notice. That's right, and I'm not just speaking to the generally delusional here either.
Your studied nonchalance as you ... unobtrusively of course ... check your teeth in the mirror 230 degrees off the port bow - and then with all of the elegance of a stork in quicksand, flick it out of your teeth with a nailtip to sail all unknowing into someone's hair. Oblivious you are.
Quietly curled over your prei dieux, hands clasped in prayer as you nibble away the tiny uneven bits remaining after the nail has been masticated, while others hail your piety. Only you know.
Heart attack in progress jolting awake thumb surreptitiously dragged across the coverlet as you reach for the lamp. Internal voices singing the litany,"Did anyone see me? Is there drool on my face, on the pillow...?"
Wading through 5 o'clock traffic, peaceful isolation of your car. Dry air, cold, humidity, heat all common excuses for that insolent itch. "I'm alone, no one can see me" ... more a pick than a flick. Neither a kleenex nor a take-away napkin to be found.
Always hungry constant search for sustenance, protein, haaccchhhh! Don't you just love hairballs?
Please keep the toe & finger nails off the floor, out of the ashtray and out of the crack in your ass.
Toe jam is gross - wherever it is.

However, yours eyes are not disappearing into the baked wastelands of sunworn valleys, those are beauty marks not age spots, and all feet are not ugly to everyone.

Hmmm - not really sure where that came from, it must be Thursday.