A Scary Blemish

"May I trim your eyebrows?"

That's what my new barber asked me the other day. I knew that I had a few strays, but sheesh...The whole bunch?

So, I replied somewhat incredulously, "You mean ALL of them??"

He just stared at me like I was a dumbass and said, "Yeah. All of them."

I guess I was in denial.

At least he wanted to help my...overgrowth. As opposed to that troll back in Santa Barbara who announced to the free world that I had back hair.

That evil bish. She could've been more quiet about the whole thing...

Well, my eyebrows got all nice, trimmed and tamed (until they grew twice as long two days later), so I thought that I should do some more...manscaping. The forest had become a bit...dense.

I was down in the basement standing in front of a mirror mowing my lawn, trimming the limbs...shaping the...bushes. And that's when I noticed it.

IT was an extremely dark mole that had formed on the inner part of my left thigh.

I hadn't remembered it before. "Was this new?? I'm pretty sure this is new."

And because I've been known to, um...panic, occasionally. One of the voices in my head started yelling, unfortunately waking up all the others, "I'M PRETTY SURE THIS IS NEW!! HE'S GOT A NEW FUCKING SPOT, EVERYBODY!! WAKE UP, FUCKERS!! THE KID'S GOT A SPOT!!"

There was a lot of grumbling and mumbling. Most of them have been asleep since we left California. I think a few of them may have even retorted, "SHUT THE FUCK UP, ASSHOLE! CAN'T YOU SEE WE'RE DEPRESSED AND SLEEPING?? WE'RE WAITING FOR SPRING!!"

He huffed and he puffed and he blew out some more, "I SAID, THIS DARK SPOT NEAR THE KID'S WIENER IS NEW!! WAAKKKEEEE UUUPPPP!!!"

I walked upstairs while the voices fought amongst themselves and reluctantly asked Will, "Bubba? Bubbs? Boo-Boo Kitty Carlisle?" (He frickin' HATES that one.) "Boo? Can you come look at something?"

Will came in the bathroom, while I bashfully tried to cover-up my ginormous dong and balls (it takes like 12 hands, I might as well not even try...). I showed him the dark spot and he could tell I was worried.

He said, "When was the last time you had a mole check?"

I said, "Last year...I think."

He continued, "Well...Do you know of someone you could go to around here? It's pretty dark. You should get it checked. Especially if you're worried about it."

I said that my Mom had a great dermatologist that I could probably go to. And that I'd call her once I got out of the shower.

I showered thinking how now, when Will and I have a HUGE deductible for our health insurance, that NOW I would have to see someone. Then, I wondered how long it had been there without me noticing it? I started thinking the worst. Maybe cancer is winding its way through my body as I wash my ginormous peep...Maybe all that sun worshipping I did as a sexy, svelte teen is finally going to do me in...What if they have to remove A BIG CHUNK OF FLESH? What if they have to remove MY WHOLE HONKIN' LEG?? I hope they don't have to take half my ass with it...I rather like my smokin' rockstar ass. Shit...What if they have to take HALF MY SMOKIN' ROCKSTAR ASS??? DAMN IT!!

I tried to calm my smokin' rockstar ass down.

When I stepped out of the shower, I toweled off, feeling the chill of the Winter outside. I stepped in front of the sink and thought, "Is it raised? I think that the spots are worse or dangerous if they're not raised..." So, I felt it. And then, I rubbed it a little bit.

And it came OFF.

I stood there holding it between my fingers staring at it. And I mouthed, "What the...??"

I hadn't showered in a couple of days. I know, gross. So, I think that it was some...umm...like,...gummy lint or something like that.

The voices, still barely grumbling up in my head grumbled some more, "See? SEE?? That Nelly Furtado was all worked up for nothing! YOU WOKE US UP FOR GUMMY LINT!!"

And they started arguing again...

I finished drying off and dressed. I went into the other room and being a little embarrassed, I told Will; "Boo-Boo? What are you doing?"

He always knows when I don't want to tell him something. So, he just looked at me out the corner of his eyes.

I continued, "Boo? Guess what? That dark spot came off after the shower."

He looked confused, "How the hell did THAT happen?"

I tried to explain, "Well...a...I think...I think that because I didn't shower for a couple of days, I think it was like...gummy lint stuck in my leg hairs...or something."

He smiled, "So...That was a piece of dried poop?"

Incredulously, I replied, "NO! It WASN'T a piece of dried poop!"

He continued, "I can't believe that you got all upset over a piece of dried poop stuck on your leg."

"IT WASN'T A PIECE OF DRIED POOP!!", I yelled.

And he continued, "Well, thank god it was just dried poop."

"JESUS CHRIST, IT WASN'T FUCKING DRIED POOP!! IT WAS LINT! IT WAS 2 DAY OLD, SWEATED ON, STUCK ON LINT!!"

And Will replied, "Whatever, bitch. Whatever it takes to make you feel better...I'm just glad that it was poop."

Me too.