I've never had a girlfriend try to pop a pimple. Actually, no one has ever tried to pop my pimples. I don't really have enough for people to take dibs. My skin is dry like a rape victim that has been dead of blood loss in a sketchy apartment building for many weeks.

Although, I woke up today to find a single zit on my chest. I thought about washing it so it'd go away quickly, or even popping it, but I then realized it looks like I have a third nipple. So, I decided this morning that I'm just going to rub grease on my chest regularly, to ensure this zit lives a long and eventful life charading as a nubbin.

"Somebody told me when the bomb hits, everybody in a two mile radius will be instantly sublimated, but if you lay face down on the ground for some time, avoiding the residual ripples of heat, you might survive, permanently fucked up and twisted like you're always underwater refracted. But if you do go gas, there's nothing you can do if the air that was once you is mingled and mashed with the kicked up molecules of the enemy's former body. Big-kid-tested, motherf--ker approved."