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2002-04-09 6:38 p.m. Pimples are amazing things. Now, considering my rampant overuse of my fanatical pro�pimple sentiment, I can completely understand how some would immediately pass this off as rhetoric�as obvious as "the weather is nice, isn't it?" or as empty and repeated as "ass rape" or "how are you doing?" But, recently a little episode with a clogged pore reminded me of a fascinating pimple fact which I had not considered for much time: Even a pimple which appears tiny or insignificant to the observer is capable of pouring an ocean of pain upon its host. I guess this should have been obvious to me. A tiny shard of broken glass�even though it is of negligible proportions�if forced into my urethra would hurt very much. A scorpion stinger is so small, yet, when jammed into one's tear ducts it must unleash a world of pain. Andie tries to explain this to me all the time when I pop her pimples. She screams out in pain and tells me that she hates me and wants me to stop. "Ow! Quit!" A tortured look of terror fills her frantic eyes. "THAT HURTS! STOP RIGHT NOW! I AM NOT KIDDING!" She flails. She insists it hurts more than I can imagine. How could the barely visible blemishes on her snow�white skin possibly hurt her so much? I mean, they are TINY pimples�I almost have to use special tools to find them they are so small. "Hmm..." I reply, "are you sure this is hurting you? Because, you see, I don't feel a thing. I feel great. No pain at all here. None." But, I got a pimple on the side of my nose a few days back that, even though was not large, still taught me some valuable lessons about hurting. It hurt sooooo much that I knew that there was only one thing to do: PHOTOGRAPH IT. Other than taking the time to personally visit everyone I have ever met and stab their faces with an ice pick or develop a way to send pain as an email attachment, what better way exists to convey physical suffering than with pictures? But there was one problem...The photos revealed an upsetting truth: the pimple that I was making a huge deal about was tiny.
In any case, though, I hope to tap into the power of selective memory and forget these lessons as soon as possible, so I can return to holding Andie down, popping her pimples, and ignoring her cries for mercy. PREVIOUS ENTRY - NEXT ENTRY |