I’m now wearing the bubble-type no-see-through sunglasses that the Terminator wore to hide his facial damage.  I only wish that they were the original Terminator sunglasses.

My right profile is unblemished.  I now totally understand actors/actresses who adamantly protest close-up shots of anything but their photogenic ‘best’ side.

When I woke up this morning I looked in the mirror and remarked to myself: “But I don’t feel like a Klingon.”

As of yet, I’ve frightened no children in public. But then again, very few children, living ones anyway, hang out in the cemetery where I’ve established a hermitage.

I would run a few laps in the cemetery, as is my normal habit, but one look from any by-passer would assure her that I just crawled out of a grave and might impel her to whack me to put me back in my place.

Though I did some ‘work’ yesterday and the day before, I decided to pamper myself today and lead a life of wounded leisure.

Why is there never any ice in ‘iced tea’ that you buy from the store?

Does anyone have a recipe for goldenrod tea?

How did I get off the topic of my temporary transformational deformity?

Hey, the Circus is in town this weekend. Maybe I’ll go just to let the circus freaks have a good laugh over me.

“Oh, stop it!”  I can hear someone out there protesting “Just stop it!”

Okay. A blog-post has to end some way.

*So far frejaluna (broken camera fund) has only gotten 1 pledge of $5 for Hellraiser photos of me.  4 more pledges of $5 or 1 pledge of $20 and I’ll post the pics.  And if the $25 sound barrier is not exceeded, I’ll still post the pics for private viewing to all generous contributor(s)—and maybe have an extra surprise in store for them, too.