God, there certainly are some weird occasions in the DOTY calendar. Like, really weird, really random and really quite pointless, such as Measure Your Feet Day. Still, if you have fun doing it I guess it isn’t pointless after all, and measuring your feet is something to do on a Friday evening when you’re not out socialising, letting loose, making memories and enriching your life.
So yeah, tonight I measured my feet. Well, one of them; the left one, as they’re both pretty much the same. That is except for the left one pointing inwards to the right whilst the right one points inwards to the left, which I’ve been assured is quite normal.
I’ve always known that my feet are big. I don’t simply mean bigger than average; I mean big under pretty much any circumstances. Unless you’re comparing me to Andre the Giant or Galactus, Devourer of Worlds, my feet are pretty damn big. They were a UK size 9 when I was 9 years old, a size 10 when I was 10, a size 11 when I was 11, and so on. Thankfully this correlation stopped at 15; otherwise, at my current age of 32, I’d be able to walk across a babbling brook without getting my shoes wet.
Don’t believe they’re that big? Don’t worry, I took a photo just for you, you lucky devil. The reason I modelled my left foot is because the toes on my right foot look like someone’s tried to lop them off using the elastic band procedure, popular with farmers that want to emasculate a bull. They’re a bit crushed, wrinkly and weird. Or, to put it another way: my left foot is like Brad Pitt; my right foot is like Danny Trejo. You wouldn’t mess with it.
For scale, I placed a completely new pencil next to it. Isn’t that helpful? And if you enjoy your metric system, it’s 27cm exactly from heel to toe.
Right, now that’s done, I’m going to try and do something with that scratty bit of nail in the corner of my big toe. What are you up to? Sharing a drink with old friends? YOU’RE WASTING YOUR LIFE!