This story is not for the faint of heart. The details contained within are so vile and so disgusting that they have been known to make small children cry, stop the birds in the sky singing and drive sane men insane with torment. It is said that this will be the last story ever read at the end of days. This is your last chance to turn back. You have been warned; what has been read cannot be unread:
I have a zit. A really big one. On my nose.
This might sound like a small matter but it is not. This zit is so large that scientists are re-classifying it as a separate life form, activist are starting to fight for its rights and the religious community is crying out that it must be destroyed before it brings about the doom of mankind.
It is currently sitting on the end of my nose like an unwanted squatter, impossible to ignore and refusing to be evicted. I finally understand how women feel when men are unable to stop staring at their boobs during a conversation because everyone have I talk to can not take their eyes off my nose pimple.
I am a man in his thirties. I am not supposed to get zits of this magnitude anymore. Unsightly zits are a young man’s game. I left that behind me years ago along with my youth and my Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle VHS collection. This simply should not be happening. I look like a Tim Burton version of Rudolf the Red Nose reindeer. Am I regressing back into my teenage self one zit at a time? How long is it until my hair becomes greasy, my ability to grow a beard fails me and my voice un-breaks, making me sound like Elmo on helium (again)?
And will it ever go away? Will it evolve sentience and free will? Will it start to talk? Can anything a zit has to say be good? If I look at the tip of my nose I can already see it. I’m scared that it is going to wave back one day. If it gets any bigger I might have to start giving it a co-writers credit.
And what exactly will happen if ‘eruption day’ finally comes? Will I survive it? Will I still have a nose afterwards or just a blast crater for a face?
Either way, I think that I will find out in the next few days.
UPDATE: IT BURST!
Right in the middle of a conversion with my father-in-law. We both survived the explosion but it shows that the late zit had a seance of humour when it came to timing.
I didn’t do it. I know I made jokes about messing up the Dutch political system during the city council elections due to my lack of understanding (a) Dutch (b) Politics and (c) Dutch Politics. But I swear I had nothing to do with the recent collapse of the Dutch government. I was no where near the Dutch government when it happened. I have witnesses. They can verify that I was miles away. It’s not my fault. You have to believe me… Please.
You can’t prove that I had anything to do with it anyway.
England; home to the art of acting and the grandeur of the theatre, birthplace of such talented playwrights as William Shakespeare. London; well known around the world for its spectacular West End shows, some of which have been performed every night to captivated audiences for many years. To be able to say you have witnessed one of these celebrated plays with their remarkable acting and majestic theatre setting is to be a step closer to sophistication. There are so many to name. Phantom of the Opera, Les Misérables, The Mousetrap and Legally Blonde the Musical…
That’s right. During a recent trip to London I discovered that Legally Blonde, the film once described by critics as; “Merely a watery, poorly directed update of Clueless,” has been transformed from its chick flick movie origins into what some consider to be the highest form of art, a theatre play.
You might be wondering ‘why this movie’ but we should not question genius. Instead we should let it inspire us to achieve greatness ourselves. This is why I would like to personally make some suggestions to Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber himself. There are so many other films out there of a similar quality that are screaming out for a West End début.
Big Momma’s House – The Musical:
Experience the amazing tale of an FBI agent who dares to be different. Follow the highs and lows of his captivating journey of self discovery, his struggle for acceptance in a prejudice world and the heartwarming discovery that it’s what’s on the inside that counts, not how you look on the outside.
With unforgettable songs such as, “Concealing more than a gun,” the side-splitting, “5-o Ho,” and the inspirational, “You have the right to remain in drag.”
Critics are already calling it; “As heartwarming as it is funny.”
Battlefield Earth – The Musical:
Experience the heartwarming story of a lonely man-animal’s struggle to find love in a Psychlo controlled post apocalyptic world. Join him on his inspiring journey as he battles against adversity and oppression. Feel the triumph as he rises from his humble slave beginnings to become more then he thought he ever could be.
With award winning songs such as, “Seven Foot Dreadlock Goth Alien,” the heart breaking, “I’m just a lonely man-animal,” and the unforgettable, “Scientology! Scientology! Oh Scientology!”
Critics are already calling it; “The best show about Scientology… ever.”
The Happening – The Musical:
Experience the touching story of a troubled family’s struggle to find balance in a world overrun with murderous plants. Feel the raw emotion as they try to reconnect with one another and heal old wounds in this epic heartwarming journey of survival, hope, love and acceptance.
You’ll never forget such comical songs as, “Oh! It’s a rubber plant,” or the heartwarming, “If we die, we die together,” or the spooky, “Run! It’s the wind!”
Critics are already calling it, “A spectacular force of nature and we’ll never truly understand it.”
…And don’t even get me started on my mind blowing ideas for Adam Sandler and Rob Schneider theatre musicals.
You can launder clothes and you can launder money but as a general rule it is not really a good idea to wash your electronic equipment in the washing machine, or in the sink for that matter… or in the shower. Basically it is best to keep anything electrical as far away as possible from any source of water and/or soap. Unless of course it is water proof and intended for use with water such as an underwater camera for example…
But I digress! Let’s just agree to say it is best to keep electronic stuff away from wet stuff.
Unfortunately I seem to have developed an annoying habit of washing my headphones in the washing machine lately. I say habit because I’m fairly certain that three times with-in three weeks counts as a habit. I also say annoying because all though it does leave my head phones feeling silky soft and the colours do not run it is not something I am doing intentionally. No, it is because of another bad habit of mine; not checking the pockets of anything before I put them in to the wash. In the past this has also resulted in me actually laundering money (and my credit cards).
After my headphone emerged from the washing machine once again this week (and after half an hour of trying to untangle them) they proved to still be ‘usable’. The only difference now is that until they dry out again Muse sound like they are giving an underwater concert and Michael Jackson sounds like he is attempting a ventriloquist act while gargling water.
Hopefully they will survive the next time I inevitably put them through the spin cycle.
It is time once again for the Dutch city council elections. Posters are being put up, television commercials are being broadcasted and letters are been sent out to all those who can vote, including for the first time… me.
I’ve never been asked to vote on such Dutch political matters before. This probably has something to do with the fact that until a few months ago I was never actually registered as living in Holland. I spent the first eight years of my stay in this country unaware that I was supposed to go to the local city hall and say, “Hello, My name is Stuart and I’m living in your country now.” It seems obvious but at the time I simply did not know that this was part of the process.
And because of this we have to consider a very important question; given my track record, does the Dutch government really want an expat like me voting on something as important as city council elections? An expat like me who once thought it was a good idea to get his eye lashes dyed. An expat like me who once trapped himself in an elevator for four hours. An expat like me who once mistook tourists for hookers. Basically, an expat like me who has a well documented history of mistakes, accidents, disasters and cock-ups.
Being asked to vote on this issue seems like an awfully big responsibility. What if I end up having the deciding vote? What if it all comes down to me? Do they seriously trust me with this? Don’t they realize the possible disastrous out come and inevitable damage I could do to the Dutch way of life? If they had read my file (or this blog) they would have realized that it is best to keep any form of decision making as far away from me as possible. I don’t know if I can handle this kind of pressure, knowing that the fate of every Dutchman and expat lies in my hands.
Even ignoring my past exploits doesn’t the Dutch government realize that I am an expat who only has a limited grasp of the Dutch language and as such has no clue what is going on around himself at the best of times even in subjects far less simple then politics. Don’t they know that I am the kind of expat who is more likely to base his vote on who has the most colorful campaign poster because he has not got an idea what they are saying.
It’s bad enough when my attempts to understand and speak the Dutch language result in me ordering the wrong thing at my local snack bar but at least my unintended frikandel has far less reaching and damaging political ramifications than any mistake I could make in a panic during voting time.
I worry about this because if I do have the deciding vote in this year’s election I don’t think people will be very happy with my excuse of, “but they had a cute kitten on their poster,” when the newly elected Expat Extermination Party is rounding us all up.
No. It’s going to be far less stressful for me to run for the position of city council myself.