The Daily Mail would have us believe that the average British woman aged 18-25 cannot go on holiday without men lining up to give them a good dicking. I am statistical proof that this is not true. I was on holiday this past week and came home with no tan and no mans. Not even a whiff of an STD.
I'm getting all my moles removed on Thursday (well, all except the one next to my ladybits. I'm not revealing that to my friendly neighbourhood doctor for him to go home and wank over later). Five of them are being lopped off, and I can't wait - it'll avoid awkward situations like the time a group of us went to Alton Towers and a friend's friend swiped at my collarbone, saying "you've got an insect on you!" Nope, that's a mole. There's no way of saying that without embarrassing the other person. I wasn't blushing in the slightest, but she couldn't look me in the eye for the rest of the day.
So, come Thursday, they're gone. I've worked in dermatology, I know the drill - the anaesthetic is going to sting like hell, and then it'll be painless. Then they'll move on to the next one. Five ouchies, all worth it.
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2 comments:
Nothing's more exciting than mole removal. :)
Oh yeah, at first I thought it might be too x rated to write about but I took a chance. Control yourself people.
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