Spots! I have Spots!

Spots is not the correct word. Lesions is more like it. Welts from the invisible karmic whip.

I look like a mangy labratory mouse. I am a mess of dark red rashes and pox. My mouth is a locker room fungus.

When I walk out in public I feel afraid. Shunned. People have actually been standing further away from me, keeping their children on their other side.

Meaning, its pretty bad.

But they don't know what it is. "They" think its a drug reaction to penicillin. "They" think its Steven Johnson Syndrome. "They" "they" "they".

GROSS.

Everyone reading this should feel very lucky that I don't have the cable with me to download the digital camera.

Very lucky.

Also, I would like to thank everyone in the West Blvd/Belair neighborhood for your wonderful display of firepower Wedns. night. I couldn't go anywhere because of my plague, and I was quite bummed. However the local fireworks were AMAZING, and they were right over my head, and from the patio we could see all over the neighborhood. I don't know how you have so much money to spend on fireworks since you live here, or maybe I've answered my own question. But it was way better than the lake, since it was so close, and also went on for a good three hours. And I didn't hear a single fire engine or police siren the whole night, so way to play it safe y'all.