pimple funny

 

Unless you have been blessed with beautiful, flawless skin. You will have, most probably, experienced the following predicament. You wake up, look in the mirror and YIKES! There’s a big red crater of a pimple on your face, oozing more puss than an infected foot…. And sods law, you have a special place to be that day.

What can one do when there’s a small alien on your face, screaming “can you see me…can you seeee me”?

 

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‘Yes, I can see you, you hideous beast’ I cried, clamping my spot like a crab pinches toe.

Suddenly, I stopped. Didn’t my mother always say ‘never squeeze a spot, you’ll only make it worse’? Her words could not ring truer, as my spot transformed from a puss-invaded crater to a miniature crime scene.

In search of a quick cure, I decided to research some spot-busting remedies.

 

Toothpaste….Check!

Mouthwash…Check!

Perfume…Check!

A dab of salt and pepper…Check!

 

Without a second thought, I rubbed the contents over my spot and waited for the magic to happen.

Turns out my magic formula, did nothing more than make me smell like an Avon lady, after a general anaesthetic!

Unfortunately, this spot isn’t going to disappear like magic. I scrambled through my make-up bag and begun layering on concealer, after concealer, after….you guessed it! Growing more flustered, as the redness of the spot, fought its way through the multi-layers. I decided to stop fighting this unworthy cause. To make matters worse, I looked more multi-tonal than Joseph’s technicoloured Dreamcoat. Panic-stricken, I quickly scrubbed it off, my spot looking more irritated than ever!

 

“If I can’t disguise it, then I must hide it” I thought, raiding my wardrobe for a scarf. Let’s face it, the prettiest scarf isn’t going to make me blend in amongst the wedding festivities. In fact, it’s going to make me stick out like a sore thumb, at a finger convention.

 

So, I guess that rules out the brown paper bag…

 

bag over head cartoon

 

“Who invited the anti-social, bag lady, in the corner?!” Onlookers would say. Laughing at my misfortune.

 

My only alternative option was to dab red dots all over my face and pretend to have a bad case of chicken pox. “Oh, I guess you’ll have to stay at home” my husband would say, sympathetically.

 

So, it looks like this spot is here to stay. I may as well make peace with the little fella!

 

 *Takes bag off head*

 

“I doubt anyone will notice”. I reassure myself, my spot looking more OBVIOUS than ever!

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