Man, it seems as though every time I turn around, somebody is chiseling away at something around here — soiled tile, spoiled carpet, damp drywall, violated vinyl.
Right now it’s the refrigerator, which has an unspecified “defrost problem.” * Earlier today it was my left cheek, which lost a chunk of what Herself’s dermatologist described as a seborrheic keratosis. Think of it as a mole designed by committee.
The doc didn’t seem to think it was anything special, but she’s shipping it off for analysis, just in case. Maybe they’ll find Amelia Earhart in there, or Jimmy Hoffa. That gram of marching powder I misplaced in the Eighties. All that free time I used to have.
Nah. They’ll probably just find a bunch of money in it. Why else would you go about mining people’s faces, if not for gold?
Meanwhile, I have a bandage the size of a quarter on my cheek, right about where my helmet straps meet, so it looks like I’ll be afoot for a couple days. How novel — for once, a pain in a cheek that isn’t part of my ass.
* Turns out the defrost timer had croaked. The good news is, says the fridge tech, is that at this point he’s replaced pretty much everything in the sonofabitch except the compressor — and when that goes, it’s time for a new fridge.
Mad Blog Media 
Sorry to hear about the growth. having spent the 28 years of my life at altitude, these things happen but when the MD send it off for “pathology”. Even strong men get the willies as these can be ugly. hang in there. but at our age 55 ow much sucscreen did we use”? not much how much do we use now? just a little more
Chicks dig scars!
Hey, John,
Looking backward from the ripe old age of 55, it’s amazing I don’t have oozing purple pustules all over my cold, dead body. I rode my bike behind DDT trucks in Texas, spent 10 years either immersed in a chlorine solution or slumped in a lifeguard’s chair at 6,000 feet, took my nourishment from cans, bottles and boxes, smoked cigarettes, puffed, popped and snorted all kinds of them fun ol’ drugs, raced and trained a couple hundred miles per week for a dozen years in sun-splashed New Mexico, Colorado and Arizona, and drank enough beer to float the USS Ronald Reagan. Frankly, I always figured that one day I’d simply explode, kapow! But the doc isn’t worried, and so neither am I.
And Herself better dig scars. I bet this one is gonna be a doozy. I’m gonna tell anyone who asks that I got it in Vietnam teaching Chuck Norris about karate.
Well it is about time the Patrick O’Grady landscaping revitalization project got underway. This is what happens when wives run out of or or get bored with exterior/interior decorating, they take you to the doc with the knife to make you look better.
Can’t wait to find out what’s next on Herself’s little project list.
I always figured Chuck Norris had to learn from a true master….and besides who’s going to argue with the guy who taught Chuck Norris his skills?
Here’s hoping that the mole is nothing more than a “slight blemish.”
I always thought that Chuck Norris learned his skills from the true master, David Carradine. Oh wait, that was some other skill.