There is more wrong with the previous paragraph than meets the eye. Blue-Emu oil? Deep penetrating to soothe arthritis? First this is scary. Who knew that emus have blue necks? Why blue? Hell, I don't even know if I'd recognize an emu if I saw one up close and personal. And from where do they hail? And their oil? How is that obtained? Is it extracted from their skinny neck tissue with large hypodermic needles. Or ... I shudder thinking about that one. Odor free. What does that mean? Has it no aroma? Do they neutralize the scent? For what it's worth, the expensive 4 pounce jar I purchased last week for more money than I care to let you in on at Walmart no less ... hasn't touched any pain. Not one iota. Deep or otherwise.
Perhaps a swill of 100 proof Southern Comfort might just do the trick. Where is that bottle? I bought it in the heady 70s when sex and drug and rock and roll were the rage. Oh, there it is. At the bottom of the narrow wooden steps. On the white plastic shelf that doubles as a wine cellar. The puddles from last week's stormy weather lapping at the base. That ol' bottle is gathering dust. But hey. Is it worth scooting down the steps on my derrière? It did dull Janis's pain. Why not eliminate mine? Allow me to stroll in my anodyne village a few blocks away. Albeit not in a straight line. No. Not worth the trip into my basement.
If only. Cheers!