Slice Me Up, Gunther

This morning, at 11 AM, I go under the knife.

What a fun expression. I love strong words with a Germanic base. (Norse, even.)

Knife. Knife. Slice. Knife.

The word says it all.

Knife me. Cut into the flesh. Clean entrance. Knife. Knife.

The doctor puts a KNIFE in the belly.

Such a sharp, clean word. It sounds more like the sound of what it does to flesh than what it would do to a rock or a tree. A knife can clang on a rock. Clang is a great word.

Knife. Strong. Gets the job done. The sharper, the more precise.

I can’t wait to meet my knife.