The Socio-Political Implications of Investing in Chinese Manufacturing (NOT!)

Although my real strength lies in writing well-thought-out social commentary, the only blog I've written recently that anyone seemed to enjoy was the one about big hairy armpits (not mine, just armpits in general). And, while I don't really have much more to say on the subject of big hairy armpits, I do have lots of thoughts on subjects that are equally as disgusting.
For instance, spitting when talking. Don't you just hate it when that happens? If you answered "yes," then here's a piece of advice. Don't talk to me. Or, if you do, keep your distance. I catch myself spitting quite frequently when engaged in conversation. Now, I'm not talking about a big, throat-clearing, gut-wrenching, let'er rip, type of spitting. I just spray it when I say it, so to speak.
I think it's because I have an extremely wet mouth. My dentist once told me I had the wettest mouth he'd ever seen. I quickly informed that dentist that, under no circumstances, was he ever to try and kiss me again.
Speaking of dentists, here's something else that grosses me out. It's looking up a dentist's nose. Invariably, when I'm sitting in that dental chair, and look up at the dentist, there'll be something hanging out of his nose, or at least coming dangerously close to being hurled out of his nose. I become transfixed seeing the object moving up and down in his nose as he speaks. And there I am, mouth wide open, right beneath that nose. Dentists are wearing rubber gloves these days. Which kind of bothers me. It's like saying, I'll take your money, but I don't want to touch your saliva." I think someone should invent some sort of rubber nose guard for the dentist and his/her assistants to wear to protect us patients from them.
Speaking of things hanging from someone else's nose, do you find that if you're talking to that person, you can't concentrate on the conversation? I do. All I can do is stare at his nose. I really have mixed emotions. I'm not sure whether I want the dangling object to be launched or not. That would mean I wouldn't have to look at it, but it would also mean that the object would now be a part of my environment. Also, do you say something about it to the person or not. I worry about such things.
And, if I'm speaking with someone and they can't keep their eyes off my nose, I become very self-conscious. I begin to imagine I feel something dangling. Often, they're simply just admiring my statuesque nose, I think. But, I can't help wondering if there just might be something hanging out of my nose.
These days when someone is staring intently at my face, there's no telling what he or she may be looking at. I used to think I was pretty good looking, well, at least, that I was not revolting to look at. But, recently, while washing my hands in the restroom on an airplane (did I mention that I took a fabulous trip to China in October?) I looked in the mirror with a fluorescent light hanging just over my head. I literally screamed. I have more flaws on my face than Mary Tyler Moore has plastic surgery incisions. And, if it's not the flaws, there's probably some wild hair growing out of my ears. So, going back to what I said earlier, for any number of reasons, if you're talking to me, don't stand too closely.
Well, I hope this satisfies all my friends who prefer that I take a less than intellectual approach in my columns. It's hard, because I'm such a deep thinker, but this is my best effort. If you don't like it, then come just a little bit closer. I have something I want to tell you.