I lied

On my last post, I wrote that I was more concerned about how I was going to pay for the operation than the skin cancer itself.

Hello, I'm Joey, Master Bullshitter Of 2010! We're going in and pluck it out a week from this coming Thursday. And though I usually only look in mirrors constantly, I find myself (and boy was I lost) looking as much as possible, wondering just how much of a Robert Taylor quality I will lose and gain that of a Larry Fine. I don't need no fucking Larry Fine hanging on my face, thanks.

The doctor said there will be a line where they will go into the "smileline" area, and strip out enough to plug the hole in my nose. I have two, both pick just fine, thanks. I don't want another one. Besides it wouldn't have any boogers anyway. I'll have to ask the doctor if I can even go back to my regular nose pickin' when this is all over.

All over. I suggested to the doc and his nurse that once someone gets a skin cancer then he is more likely to come up with another one. Right I was, though he just nodded and said yes.

So what does the future hold for Joey? The world waits while the doctor prepares his plane tool, and dives in looking for my bodily junk.

Joe