The Scandelles Journal
Wednesday, September 29, 2004
Today I'm going to have my third nipple removed. Well, I call it my third nipple, it's actually a skin tag which has now grown to be nearly the size of my real nipple and it's starting to get confusing for people. I'm nervous. I called the nurse for the doctor who's taking it off (Stubbs, famous penile elongation surgeon I met through my column), and she said they have to send it to a lab. FOR WHAT?! I thought I was just going to be able to take it home in a jar and maybe auction it off for charity (undetermined as of yet, maybe the Scandelles). No, now they have to go poking around for cancer or what have you. Great.
Anyway, I'll be glad to get rid of the damn thing whatever it is. I feel it takes away from my breasts, which are rather spectacular these days.
I'm nervous about meeting Stubbs. Let's face it: I'm not exactly kind to plastic surgeons in my column (though he is always funny and honest). What if he takes the wrong one off just to get back at me? I guess it doesn't really matter since I have no plans to have kids, although this dream I had last night totally betrays that fact. But based on that one, I also live in a gorgeous, open air style apartment with a royal blue bedoom, and piles of Hardy Boys books.
DJ Sumasian has agreed to do some flag dancing (shriek shriek shriek!!!) for our Under The Mink. He and a friend are interpreting Marrilyn Monroe's dress in the 7 Year Itch. I am beside myself.
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