The heartbreak of adult acne
Figure 1: Artist's depiction of Scott and Ellen. |
I'm just glad Ellen and her taxidermy dreams are a couple states away.
In a culture that pines after youth, I had hoped that age would at least give me the advantage of clear skin. Nope. Frakking unicorn.
Labels: histrionic, pop culture
Sure. I'm game.
Posted by Unknown | 1/22/2007 08:55:00 PM
Well I certainly don't remember biting you in the back or clawing your ribs, and aside from there sexual overtones of that comment, I hope your skin clears up.
Posted by Ellen | 1/22/2007 10:29:00 PM
I'm not saying that you ever have bitten my back or clawed my ribs (though I have long suspected you to be a back biter).
I'm saying that if you saw me with the pimple and mistook me for a unicorn, carnage similar to that depicted would ensue. It would take only a short time for my desiccated carcass to be mounted over your hearth.
Posted by Scott | 1/22/2007 11:50:00 PM
Benzoyl peroxide, yo. Hopefully eventually I'll get around to posting about that on my own blog...
Posted by CëRïSë | 1/24/2007 11:53:00 PM
Proof: Chicks dig skinny pale guys. (with zits).
Posted by Seth Ellis | 5/05/2007 12:08:00 PM
Post a Comment