I HAVE THOUGHTS. Usually they are inappropriate and slightly rude, so I figure the Internet is the best place to share them. Up first is a tragic, horrifying tale:
I HAVE A FRECKLE MOUSTACHE.
It’s true. Apparently the Stowell genes gave me many fabulous traits, such as oversized boobs, the propensity to sneeze when I eat too much sugar, and freckle patches above my lips that tan to a nice brown moustache in the summer.
EXHIBIT A:
YOU SEE! In all pictures I appear to be sporting a day’s growth of nice, bushy ‘stache. It is NOT hair, people! I’ve NAIRed the crap out of my face in desperate attempt to be rid of this plague, but to no avail. These babies are SKIN. I need a dermatological cream that will force these patches to part ways with my upper lip. Too bad MJ is gone; I bet he’d know a great skin lightener to combat this problem. Oh, what, too soon?
The worst part is that the tanner I get, the WORSE this gets. Everyone looks better tan; this is true for me from the neck down. Cause from the neck up, NO GO. I look more and more like my Great-Aunt Mildred who actually HAD a moustache. (Disclaimer, I do not actually have a great aunt Mildred—that was a theatrical device used to illustrate my point that I look like a eighty-five year old woman that kids hate to receive kisses from).
The only saving grace is that my sister suffers the same affliction, so at least I won’t be the only creepshow at the family reunions.
We all have our cross to bear....mine just happens to appear in EVERY PHOTO I TAKE. Go ahead, get on Facebook and see. DISGUSTING.
E.Pain
PS, I used to be a really good blogger, back when it was called LiveJournal and I was trying to be emo. Good Lord, I bet those posts are still lurking somewhere in Internet land. That can't be good.
