I had a minor accident last week that covered my face with tiny red welts. I went to a wedding Saturday, a birthday Sunday, and it’s now mid-week--which means you can believe that I now have a ready arsenal of answers to the question “Jesus. What--what happened to your face?”
- You know how some people get together on weekends and participate in a real Fight Club? I do that, but my club doesn’t follow any rules. Which is why I’m allowed to discuss this with you.
- Oh, I suppose you got through the chicken pox when you were a kid, Mr. Born-with-the-Silver-Spoon?
- Well, I’ll tell you what it’s not. It’s definitely not battered husband syndrome. My friends say it is, but it’s all my fault. I made her mad, and I deserved it.
- This happens to every male in my family around this age. I’d rather not discuss it.
The problem is, the actual answer to the question is just as ridiculous: hot oil spattered my face when I was frying some burgers. Listen, I fry burgers all the time. I’d be highly willing to have burgers for breakfast. I know how to maintain the delicate balance of flame to oil in order to achieve maximum effect without personal injury. So what happened? I was just tooling along and suddenly my frying pan went all Poltergeist on me.
The thing is, it didn’t even hurt; it just stung a bit. I laughed and had dinner and went to bed and woke up the next morning and looked in the mirror and the picture of Dorian Gray was staring back at me.
My co-worker (pictured below) said I should go buy some vitamin E cream in order to prevent scarring. It hadn’t even occurred to me that the bruises might scar, and I was about to take her recommendation when I realized that:
“Greg, can you finish the collateral by Monday?”
“SAY HELLO TO MY LEETLE FRIEND.”
Anyway, the angry red smears have settled down into vaguely disgruntled brown spots, but I’m tired of making jokes about them and I’m ready for them to go away. And all I can think is, if a little bit of one-on-one conflict with the demonic forces inhabiting my kitchen brings this much unwanted attention, I can only imagine what the Elephant Man went through.
Posted by Greg at 05:07 AM. Filed under:
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Just go to CVS, grab some Magnum condoms, a can of motor oil, a Gatorade and a jar of vitamin E cream, dump them on the counter, and ask for a pack of Marlboro Reds.
Barbequed burgers don’t spatter, leave the kitchen cleaner, and are healthier (marginally)
Are you going to look like me when the burns heal?
I’m going to send you photos from the wedding. Feel free to post them. You look good in them.
My immediate thought when I read “red welts” and “wedding” was “Someone got really aggressive with the rice again, and the groom doesn’t get a face shield (veil)”, then I thought, “Greg got married? Congrats, but how come we faithful readers didn’t know until now?”.
I am sorry I missed that wedding.
Your post caused Google to respond with an ad for a genital wart remover. Were you frying burgers naked or something?
If that had been the case, I doubt I would have laughed off the incident.
buy a bottle of vitamin E capsules--the kind that are gellatinous-- and squeeze the oil out of one. it’s tedious but more manly than the froufy cream. it’s a do it yourself project! any man can respect that.
I adore a man who is guarding against becoming metrosexual! And you should be telling people it’s highly contagious so they’ll stop bothering you about it.
No, no, EV - all he needs to buy with the Vitamin E cream is a copy of Maxim.
just let it scar. then make up a biker/bar brawl story to go with it and leave it at that. just don’t mention the part where you were afraid of the checkout girl at the walgreens so you couldn’t buy vitamin E cream. that might damage the rep.
I know what the Elephant Man went through. I saw ”The Mask”.
What’s wrong with a little vitamin E oil? I bet you could even buy it at the drugstore without asking for it.
It’s not like commiting yourself to a Mary Kay daily facial “program.”
this is what happens to people who embrace freemasonry. you had it coming.
i went to the scarface memorable quotes page on imdb, to pick out something clever for this comment, and i realized that, really, just about any of them would work as a response to why your face looks funny.
“you know what? fuck you! how ‘bout dat?”
“i’m greg howard! you fuck with me, you fuck with the BEST!”
“how am i going to get [scars] like this eating pussy, huh?”
even if you buy the vitamin E cream, you can use this:
“Immigration Officer #1: What about homosexuality, [Greg]? You like men, huh? You like to [use vitamin E cream] like a woman?
[Greg]: What the fuck is wrong with this guy, man, are you kidding me or what?
Immigration Officer #2: Just answer the questions, [Greg]!
[Greg]: OK, no! OK? Fuck no!
scarface is truly the perfect movie.
So much for metrosexuality, but what you really need to prevent scarring is cocoa butter...perhaps a short trip to your local Bath and Body Works can remedy you of your lack of it.
Stop being so afraid of skin care, Greg. [P] Diddy admits to using ProActiv Solution and he says “it preserves my sexy” and “moisturizes my situation.”
Wouldn’t you like your situation moisturized?
Holy Shit! The Elephant Man was hit in the face with burger grease? I always thought he looked that way from using too much Vitamin E cream. I’ve been avoiding it like the plague.
Frank, it depends who is doing the moisturizing.
I’ve offered, Greg. I’ve offered.
Oh, wait. I just left the door WIDE OPEN.
Scars are sexy, dude.
And I applaud the guarding against metrosexuality. Be a man! Refuse to care for yourself! Yeah.
I’m just quietly admiring the fact that the dude that asked about getting situations moisturized is named “Frank”.
(I think the beans keep moist by themselves)
I suspect this is one of those things that is supposed to “build character”, “remind you of what’s really important”, and other trite bullshit like that.
In the meantime, you can always recruit a gal friend to buy the face cream.
Besides, cooking injuries are really hot.
I’m sure someone already mentioned this in the comments previous, but you could just buy some Vitamin E capsules, poke them with a straight pin, and dot your umm injuries with the oil.
I think I need to buy you one of those frying pan spatter screens from Lillian Vernon.
If you are a man and know what a metrosexual is, you are already a metrosexual.
Sorry.