January 06, 2002 :: 1:41 a.m.
for-cold-sores
Carmex.
You know it. The waxy yellow lip balm in an obnoxiously large container. I can't keep it in my pocket. I can't keep it in my purse. I can't keep it anywhere but my bathroom, due to the amount of space it takes up and the unsightly bulge it produces. And yet I love it. It tingles and burns and makes my lips feel puffy. Nothing can compare.
I believe it has crack in it. I can think of no other explanation. Or perhaps I just enjoy that sort of pain. I do have a tendency to put a certain facial moisturizer on my lips, because it produces a wonderful stinging; something akin to peroxide on an open wound. Which I also enjoy.
So there you have it, folks. I am hopelessly masochistic. Not masochistic enough to enjoy yoga, though. Nope. Give me crack-laced lip stuff any day.
Thank you and goodnight.
back & forth
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