Wednesday, September 19, 2007

So, I was carded today for booze. It's been a long time.

As I'd left my identification at home, I told the cashier that, as such, I had been hoping he wouldn't ask. He paused. Hopeful, I squinted and piped up, "do these eyes look like the eyes of someone under 21?"

Thankfully, he was silent and just told me he'd make an exception. When I went out to the car, I squinted at myself in the rearview. Huh, not as many crinklies as before.

Woo-hoo Neroli face cream from Well Within!

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1 Comments:

Blogger Willard said...

the anglo-saxon mine field draped the nasal to zygo regions, the disputed territory between follicle and follic-free country, such as the creeping line of cheek hair, which now is sending lone scouts, individual hairs, usually off color and thicker than normal, into areas previously designated as supple hairless epidermis.
It's a war of attrition, here on my face, and though I have yet to surrender my youth to the legions of derelict cells invading every pore of my being, I still make preparations for that inevitable day- official recognition of the annexation by the seperatist guerrila rebel forces pitted against now only that pastiche of "me" (skin, bone, visceral tissue, bile, blood and such.. with "mind" arising from it all, somehow) but themselves as well.

And ultimately plundered, this battlefield, body, will succumb.

I'll just hang out until then.

Is it too early to start drinking yet?

September 22, 2007 at 9:14:00 AM PDT  

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