a douche of epic porportions

where do I begin?

First lets point out that I have some serious, gross, ever growing infection on my face. This isn't one of those "bad breakouts" that I got when I was a young little lady. No this is something more horrific entirely that's lasted the past several weeks and is swelling so much that it's actually made my eyes puffy. WTF?

My ever sensitive daddy keeps telling me that it's because I eat chocolate. A lifetime of eating chocolate and only now do I suddenly have an infectious, inflamed growth on my face.

Which, of course, every time he says this I want to have a freakout of epic proportions but instead shove my mouth full of chocolate (spooning it into my mouth as I write this post).

It's so bad in fact I've had several people ask me what happened to my face. If it were normal acne, people wouldn't ask, they'd just stare when they thought I wasn't looking. But this is something else entirely, I've been asked several times if I'd gotten bruised or burned.

I'm starting to have visions of Spaceballs and the alien that jumped out of the guys stomach and began tap dancing. It feels like that's what's happening to my face.

And of course every time I put make-up on it, it gets inflamed even more so I have to expose the alien race for all to see.

So granted I wasn't in the best of moods when my husband informed me that he had found out that a married male friend of mine was making up lame excuses to feel-up a stripper.

Let me explain...

His wife, who's boobs have inevitably gone the way of the after-baby-sag, wants to get a boob job. My male friend says "you wouldn't pay for a car without test driving it, and since I'm paying for her to get a boob job I should be able to test it out to see if I will even like what I'm paying for."

Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.

Until you have morphed your body into something unrecognizable to carry YOUR child for 9 months, only to have to breast feed that baby in the middle of the night with your nipples screaming and straight up sobbing, only to have your boob's deflate when your milk dries up, YOU have no fricken right to stand on your self-righteous high horse and say "Well I'm paying for it..."

Nevermind that its not your body and has nothing to do with you, you don't get the right to say it's something your paying for, and therefore get to "test drive it."

Let me put it another way. Lets say you were to pay your wife for everything that she does. Pay her for childcare, laundry (starching your stupid white shirts just right), cleaning the house so it's immaculate, oh and doing all your college course work (no lie). Calculate that! And when you do you will realize that your wife is making more money than your stupid sorry ass, and therefore can use the money you make at your pathetic and meaningless job to do whatever the hell she wants. Got it?

I feel slightly better. But the chocolate wasn't satisfying enough.

Dammit!