Page 2-The Michigan Daily -Weekend etc. -January 30, 1992
Blood In my face
Recently, I've developed sensitive skin. If you were to make insulting remarks
about my skin - for instance, "Hey, that's some pretty ugly skin you got there!"
- it would get upset. It might even start to cry.
It hasn't always been like that. As an adolescent, I had oily skin. If you had
placed a lit match up against my cheek, my face would have exploded.
I went to a dermatologist, and he had me take a combination of anti-oiliness
chemicals powerful enough to disintegrate small insects. Every night the routine
was the same. First I took apill. Then I used these special pads. When I wiped them
on my face, they made asizzling sound similar to thatof waterputin a frying pan.
Finally - and by then the skin on some parts of my face had been completely
dissolved, exposing bone-I would use Retin-A. You might recall Retin-A as the
miracle drug which could eliminate wrinkles. Technically, this is true, in the same
sense that amputation eliminates ingrown toenails and suicide halts the aging
process. Retin-A has the same basic effect on your skin as the Ark of the Covenant
had on the Nazis' skin after they opened it in Raiders of the Lost Ark.
Every night I would apply these chemicals to my face, let out a bloodcurdling
scream of agony, and go to sleep. And when I woke up, my skin would have
somehow regenerated and produced enough oil to heat Zimbabwe for a month,
and so I would use the chemicals again.
The worst part is that my dermatologist would only prescribe six weeks worth
of medication at a time, and the drugstore wouldn't give refills without a new
prescription. So every six weeks, I would make a new appointment, which went
Dermatologist: So how is the medicine working out?
Me: Not bad, except my skin is still oily.
Dermatologist: Here's another prescription. See you in six weeks.
This system is essential to the preservation of the field of dermatology. They
will never develop medicine that works, and if they did they would never give it
to us, because every dermatologist would suddenly be unemployed.
Thus I had no choice but to continue the cycle of medication for several years.
The only apparent benefit was that my dermatologist's children could afford the
college of their choice. (I don't mean attending the college of their choice. I mean
buying the entire thing and naming all the buildings after themselves.)
But then one day it suddenly changed. Overnight, I went from having
extremely oily skin to extremely dry skin. There was no transition period; I didn't
get to experience normal human skin for even a day. Now, instead of taking drugs
to dry out my skin, I take drugs to moisturize my skin.
Now, I live in fear of shaving. I was never a good shaver in the first place, but
with my dry, sensitive skin, I now cut myself almost every day.
Actually, "cut"is not the appropriate word to describe what I do to myself with
a razor. Cut is what other people do. I slash myself. When people see me after I
have suffered a razor wound, my face covered in Kleenex fragments, they would
never guess that it had been done while shaving. "Jon, have you been shot?" they
"No, it happened while I was shaving."
"With a chainsaw?"
This is just an example of the kind of abuse which I am forced to endure on
account of my skin. Itdoesn't really bother me, but my skin is getting pretty upset.
Vampish shoes kick outf their heels
The vamp is known for her sultry, but hard, seductive, evil ways. Today
the vamp has become like the heel of a woman's foot. She's still sexy and
curvaceous, but she'd got determination to stand on her own. Throw away
the toppling Barbie doll pumps! For heavens sake, Barbie's 50 years old.
Vamps have also assaulted the mule (a backless, lounging slipper, often
of the fuzzy variety.) Mules reveal their heels to anyone who will ap-
proach from behind. Without the solid support of the vampish spike heel,
however, a mule can rarely achieve its prime.
Now, the vamp's revamped and best exhibited by the shoemaker Manolo
Blahnik. He's one of the first, if not the best, to expose the lifeline of the
once common shoe. Many queens have cleansed their bodies through the
ancient spiritual ritual of bloodletting. Now they call on Blahnik, whose
shoes bleed richly, pouring forth through the life-giving mule.
The shoes overflow with the finest embroideries, suedes, pearls and
other delicacies, which elicit the price of $500 for the most simple pair. No
need to despair. Knock-offs of the glorious Manolo begin at $35.
Charges are pending against
Stephen Protokowicz, Jr. who
pleaded guilty to breaking and
entering and cruelty to animal
charges. He admitted entering the
home of one of his client's estranged
wife and "zapping" her cat in the
microwave. Protokowicz was fined
$1000 and promised to pay for
counseling for the children who
discovered the cat.
A SLAP SUIT
In Providence, R.I., two state
representatives have threatened to
pursue assault claims against each
other. State Rep. Maria Lopes said
State Rep. Ray Rickman slapped her
during an argument on the House
floor about her getting state jobs
for relatives. Rickman insists she
had threatened him with her fist.
"Last night I shot an elephant in my
pajamas. How he got in my pajamas
I'll never know."
-Groucho Marx Animal Crackers
"When elephants fight, it's the
grass that suffers.
-African proverb, Kikuyu tribe
"Captured elephants are very quick-
ly tamed by barley juice."
- Pliny the Elder
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