Yesterday, I had to get a patch of potentially pre-cancerous skin frozen off my forehead.
No forehead coverage
As I was getting ready to leave the house, I had a split-second thought that perhaps I could cover up this Band-Aid. Here’s what that might have looked like:
This one reminds me of the time I dressed as Christina Aguilera for Halloween and my downstairs neighbor was like, “Who are you supposed to be? Bret Michaels?”
Et tu, Axl?
Myself in junior high. Or Zoey Deschanel.
Fuck it. I’m a hippie. I have a Band-Aid on my head. Deal with it.
The Contessa. I did watch Under the Tuscan Sun recently.
That chick is so sporty in that flattened liquor store swag hat.
I can’t ride my bike because I still have a fractured ankle, but safety first.
The ’90s are back, right? I mean, apparently. Look at that TV in the background.
This last one makes me think I should totally go as Alanis Morrisette for Halloween this year. Maybe I’ll see my old downstairs neighbor and he’ll be like, “Hey, where’s Silent Bob?” To which I will reply, “Fuck you, Matt! I no longer want to hump you so bad!”