Pimple / Paper.

This week I had a pimple form between and a little above my eyebrows, like one of those dots that Indian women wear or paint on or whatever the heck they do to that dot to make it be on their forehead. I left it alone because it didn't have a head, and then two days ago it felt like there was a dull ache beneath it from the pressure of something deep under the skin, so I got my fingers around the pimple from the bottom and gave a firm squeeze, moving the material up, and a bunch of shit burst out of there and flung itself across my finger nail. It wasn't too liquidy, but more of greasy congealed white clumps with a very little bit of liquid around them. It's been a good month for pimples.

Yesterday at the black neighborhood bar I went into the toilet stall to get some toilet paper to blow my nose, and not only was there not any toilet paper there, but there wasn't even a toilet paper holder or a dent in the wall for one or leftover screwholes from where a holder had been and was removed, instead there was just a bunch of small white bar napkins like they put your beer on on the window ledge behind the toilet. This bar is the same bar where the bartender keeps a baseball bat behind the counter just in case something happens -- I kept thinking of that yesterday and laughing for some reason while I was sitting there.