So... I haven't written anything here in quite a while, huh? I could offer any number of provocative reasons why, but the truth is that I'm one boring old skeezer. I like you people and don't see any reason to subject you to tales of why I changed my cats' brand of food or what I found when I cleaned under the seat of my car.
There's nothing exciting to report in the Land of Sparkles, and that's not necessarily a bad thing. Although I do have some sort of odd skin disorder, and I know you're dying to hear more about that so please allow me to grant your wishes and fill you in. I think it all started as bug bites of some variety but they're more itchy than your ordinary mosquito bites and apparently I get all OCD in my sleep and scratch and scratch until I draw blood. I do this every night which means that these goddamn things never heal, so now I look like I have full onset herpes, total body variety. And I was this close to whipping out my cell phone and taking pictures of my leg so you could witness the horror but I decided against it. You can thank me later. Anyway, I'm getting very frustrated by this and have been trying to figure out why the powers of the universe hate me. I have my flaws but I do try to be a good person, so what gives? Then I remembered that one night a couple weeks ago when I was watching the news they showed a mugshot of some dude who had been arrested for hoarding a HUGE number of animals. To call this mugshot unflattering would be like calling the Grand Canyon a hole in the dirt, and as soon as I saw it I laughed out loud, all "Sweet Jesus, back up the camera!" I know, I know. I'm going to hell, but it was a reaction. But then I found out that the dude had suffered burns all over his body while he was fighting in the Iraq war. Yes, I KNOW, but I swear he just looked like a huge dork with a bad haircut, not someone who'd suffered horrible injuries! You can't call me any names I didn't call myself, but goddamn... how long does my lovely alabaster complexion have to pay the price of my assholery?
So I ask you, what's the cure for my affliction? Vaseline? Baking soda? Neosporin? More vodka cocktails? I'm hoping it's the last one. I really don't want to have to wind up going to my doctor about this because she'll just complain about me not visiting her sooner and then she'll end up hating me just like God does. And the Veterans Administration.
There's nothing exciting to report in the Land of Sparkles, and that's not necessarily a bad thing. Although I do have some sort of odd skin disorder, and I know you're dying to hear more about that so please allow me to grant your wishes and fill you in. I think it all started as bug bites of some variety but they're more itchy than your ordinary mosquito bites and apparently I get all OCD in my sleep and scratch and scratch until I draw blood. I do this every night which means that these goddamn things never heal, so now I look like I have full onset herpes, total body variety. And I was this close to whipping out my cell phone and taking pictures of my leg so you could witness the horror but I decided against it. You can thank me later. Anyway, I'm getting very frustrated by this and have been trying to figure out why the powers of the universe hate me. I have my flaws but I do try to be a good person, so what gives? Then I remembered that one night a couple weeks ago when I was watching the news they showed a mugshot of some dude who had been arrested for hoarding a HUGE number of animals. To call this mugshot unflattering would be like calling the Grand Canyon a hole in the dirt, and as soon as I saw it I laughed out loud, all "Sweet Jesus, back up the camera!" I know, I know. I'm going to hell, but it was a reaction. But then I found out that the dude had suffered burns all over his body while he was fighting in the Iraq war. Yes, I KNOW, but I swear he just looked like a huge dork with a bad haircut, not someone who'd suffered horrible injuries! You can't call me any names I didn't call myself, but goddamn... how long does my lovely alabaster complexion have to pay the price of my assholery?
So I ask you, what's the cure for my affliction? Vaseline? Baking soda? Neosporin? More vodka cocktails? I'm hoping it's the last one. I really don't want to have to wind up going to my doctor about this because she'll just complain about me not visiting her sooner and then she'll end up hating me just like God does. And the Veterans Administration.
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