Fuck, I love buttons! But not belly buttons (or as wikipedia tells me some misguided people call them, tummy buttons). I think they're kind of gross. They're all dark and wrinkly, like the prunes of human anatomy. Today's fact, however, is about belly buttons. Or rather, the conspicuous lack thereof.
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| These look so delicious. |
Fun fact: Alfred Hitchcock didn't have a belly button.
At first, I was shocked and bewildered to learn that fun fact, but be heartened to know, dear reader, that he was not another Superman. He was just a man who had some sort of surgery on his stomach that happened to result in the absence of a belly button.
Apparently it is not entirely uncommon. I found a BBC news story about a Czech model who had no belly button and was not, according to her agent, "'an alien.'" That is reassuring.
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| That Czech lady's stomach. Because having zoomed in pictures of one's abdomen posted all over the internet is everyone's dream. |
But pictures of belly buttonless abdomens are less reassuring. I thought, since I am vaguely disturbed by the buttons, I would find smooth stomachs comforting in some way. But not really. I mean, at least I don't think it will explode. Which is how I think about normal belly buttons. Because I have a large number of irrational fears. Which is why I probably should not have decided to write about belly buttons. Because now I am thinking about my own. And what would happen if it just happened to come undone. And I need to go soak my eyes. Farewell, dear reader. Farewell.
I ate a button once.
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