Dearest Sisters Take Heed
The years have been harsh. I feel as if I will not walk this world much longer. I have tried to live well, but alas, my many years of high living have taken a toll on this old shell of mine. Why, even my morning showers have become a grotesque wrestling match, as I attempt to scrub every nook and cranny! I shudder to think of the pimply road map the medical examiner might find upon my demise—a relief map of areas I strained to reach, all foretold by the highs and lows of those adolescent bumps! Not to mention those areas that were often neglected in my youth but now appear to be areas in deep need of constant attention. Like behind my ears, around the corners of my mouth, and those unforgiving pimples in my nostrils! At what point did daily washing necessitate ...