Zit

It's the end of the world as I know it! That one terrible affliction that we beautiful people fear most... I have a zit on the end of my nose! Don't laugh! You feminine types can throw on a little powder or zit cover and face the world, whereas we masculine types just can't do that. It is particularly difficult when you have a face you enjoy seeing first thing of the morning. I've a face Brad Pitt would kill for. No, not as pretty as his, but the he-man type: rugged, bold and wise in the ways of the world. I have beautiful green eyes that can adore you or see through you. I've a smile that will completely disarm you or make you squirm. Marble statues of Greek gods crumble to dust when I stand before their eon old presences.

And I have a zit on perfectly formed nose!

I noticed it yesterday as I was trimming nose hair, and as quickly as I saw it, I fashioned a hood for my head. I wear it around the house, but tomorrow I must appear in the doctor's office for my weekly injection of dope. I imagine I'll have to suck it up and face the shame and indignity of public exposure. And it won't begin to get well until it has exacted all the disgrace and ridicule that a vicious and mean spirited public can bestow.

"If you had taken a bath regularly like civilized people should, it wouldn't have happened," you say. My answer; I do take a bath regularly, twice a year! "Not good enough," you say. My reply; it's worked all these years! I also say, let him without pimples throw the first Clearasil.

Phooey! Life sucks!