oh hey pawhands!

November 15, 2012

Over a year ago I tied my favorite beauty products up in a scarf at the end of a stick, threw it over my shoulder, and a set off down the road on a journey to get myself some clear, lovely skin, but not the kind that you cut off of someone else's skeleton, the kind that springs forth naturally from the cells already attached to my face. Then I dressed up a like a cat and walked around on the street.

ol' pawhands represent!

I've checked in frequently along the way with reports from the field about my clear-skin adventure. There was the time I didn't touch my face for an entire month, and when I washed my face every day with some dermatologist recommended soap, and when I tried the coconut oil cleanser method, and even the time I obsessively rubbed pee on my face*.

*It was apple cider vinegar. Probably.

Eventually I got tired of all the experimentation (and failure) and fell into a cavernous black pit of despair where I would just walk into the bathroom and shout, "WHY DON'T YOU LOVE ME ANYMORE" into the mirror and then walk away without washing my face at all.

Except, as I'm sure you could predict, that didn't achieve the desired clear clear pretty pretty results either, because if it were that easy every teenager passed out in front of their playstation would have the dewy perfect skin of a newborn and all the aestheticians in the world would be out of a highly lucrative career and begging for dimebags down by the side of the highway.

In all that time, through all those fancy, expensive soaps and experimental routines not much has changed when compared to me doing absolutely nothing at all, for free, riding the lazy train covered in my own filth. Don't get me wrong, some of them worked okay (and some better than others) but none really did much to keep rogue breakouts at bay in the long term. It was like all the beauty products in the world were dancing around my fallen corpse in a gleeful circle shouting, "Look at all the fucks we give! Look at them!"


You know what did work? You know what did get me back into my special magic groove? What finally turned the dial from 'blotchy monster' back to 'regular human' and will keep service people across the nation from turning tail and running away from my very mug in terror assuring that I can continue to order McFlurries for the foreseeable future?

...The same $3 store brand soap I had used faithfully for 7 years before this started.


grumbles face
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