#Nelly

A few weeks ago I had a zit on my face, literally (and I'm not using that phrase incorrectly, as many people do) the size of a skittle. It was wild. Long story short, for a week I had to deal with the wound that became of the pulsating pimple. (Not literally, but figuratively, the thing really did have it's own pulse)
The open wound that looked something like a burn, or maybe even leprosy was about 3 quarters of an inch in diameter and basically a bloody pussy mess.
Gross, I know.
Well anyways, a few weeks later, all I have left of that humiliating facial feature is a big fat dry patch scar. And you know why I'm blogging about it. It's weird I know, but I kinda like my scar. Who likes a scar on their face? I don't know.
This is more proof to myself that I'm certifiably insane.