I’ve got it rough. Not Protagonist-Of-A-Dickens-Novel-Rough, but rough nonetheless. See, every winter, when the humidity plummets and the sun disappears and we all turn into mole people, my skin gets really dry, causing my body to feel like a bunch of bones walking around in an old paper bag. T.M.I.? Well T.M.TOUGH NOOGIES. I’m suffering over here, people! Sure, I slather on buckets of moisturizer, but then my hands are so slippery that I can’t open doors or use a keyboard properly or do those cool interlocking handshakes they do in action movies when two action heros link wrists and flex biceps at the same time. They only task I can successfully perform while covered from head to toe in moisturizer is shimmy down a narrow well to rescue small animals. Fortunately I have not yet heard the call of duty. I suppose a permanent solution to my problem would be moving to a tropical climate. After all, I do love coconut. Do people living in tropical climates just sit around all day eating coconut? I know I would. That is, if I could get all this moisturizer off my hands first. I don’t think opening a coconut is very easy with slippery hands. Then again, opening a coconut isn’t easy no matter which way you slice it. Unless you are using a samurai sword, in which case the way definitely matters: mid-air, straight down the middle, and in slow-motion with futuristic techno music blasting in the background. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to inspect every well in the neighborhood.