Do you like how I had to POINT to it? Y'know, just in case you thought this was a photo of my sexy fleece housecoat. Or you thought I was really bad with spatial arrangement and missed getting my head in the frame. It's really not a Where's Waldo scenario. No pointing required. Though that zit is probably big enough to wear a little red and white striped sweater.
This is the next day result of a hot water compress, some pinching, squeezing, a little praying, a shot of tequila, a goat, swearing in Singhalese, the Mini-Pops 'Stupid Cupid' on repeat, a vice grip, some barbecue-flavoured Crispers and a dab of the Proactive refining mask.
I had to do something because the thing hurt like a rat bastard. Every time I talked, I felt like an ore sample was being removed from the center of my chin. At least now, cars won't stop when I go outside.
And how was YOUR weekend?