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This is an incident from March of this year, when LurkerGirl had to go overseas for three weeks for work.
My confession:
I have psoriasis. It flakes. It itches like hell.
It's also a genetic thing - my grandfather has it. My uncles have it. And sometimes we need stuff for it that just freaking WORKS, dammit.
One of the things that happens to work for truly horrific breakouts is....
...wait for it...
Yep, a compound of shark liver oil in a petroleum-based suppository applicator. Also known as Preparation H, buttcream, "DO NOT MISTAKE FOR TOOTHPASTE IN THE MORNING", etc.
What also seems to work is mineral oil mixed with a little pure coconut oil and shea butter, and if it's REALLY going to town, I have to keep the completely red spots covered with something to prevent them from getting irritated by my clothing. Also, to keep my work clothes from getting "seepage" spots. Believe me, nothing sucks more than being in a meeting and realizing your forearms are bleeding through one of your nicest dress shirts and there's nothing you can do.
Since I'm cheap and somewhat practical, I also know that certain maxipads make decent ad-hoc bandages in a pinch, especially if the store you happen to go to is out of the largish gauze pads you need to use.
Now, if you happen to be an early 20s, attractive female clerk at a grocery store at 2AM and a tall man wearing a prominently displayed wedding ring shows up in your line with:
3 bottles of mineral oil
2 bottles of coconut oil
2 packages of baby rash ointment
2 bottles of Head and Shoulders
2 packs of kotex minipads
a large tube of preparation H
a package of zip ties
one brick of Monty jack cheese
one large package of emmenthaler cheese
two large containers of croissants
and four bottles of champagne (look, LurkerGirl was gone for THREE WEEKS. I wasn't coping well. And she doesn't like champagne, but I can drink it in a 24 oz mug nightly).
Level 1: You get kudos for quietly and nicely ringing everything up and putting it in a brown paper bag with no comment other than, "Do you have your rewards card?"
Level 2: If the drunk, underaged and not funny teenage females behind said tall man look at the content of his basket and says, "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING TONIGHT, YOU PERVERT?" to be funny, you get extra kudos for giving her the icy stare of doom.
Level 3: You get SUPREME EXTRA KUDOS WITH DRUNKENMONKEY FONDUE NACHOS AND LOVE ON TOP if you say, with a smirk, "Me, if I'm lucky," and say "Have a good night, sir".
Level 4: You get my undying love and devotion (in a platonic sense) if you card said stupid (and apparently stoned) SCs for their unopened box of Captain Crunchberries. Just because.
Girl at the all-night grocery store in North Rainy City in the Puget Sound, I never saw you again, but you totally and completely made my day one night in March 2011.
My confession:
I have psoriasis. It flakes. It itches like hell.
It's also a genetic thing - my grandfather has it. My uncles have it. And sometimes we need stuff for it that just freaking WORKS, dammit.
One of the things that happens to work for truly horrific breakouts is....
...wait for it...
Yep, a compound of shark liver oil in a petroleum-based suppository applicator. Also known as Preparation H, buttcream, "DO NOT MISTAKE FOR TOOTHPASTE IN THE MORNING", etc.
What also seems to work is mineral oil mixed with a little pure coconut oil and shea butter, and if it's REALLY going to town, I have to keep the completely red spots covered with something to prevent them from getting irritated by my clothing. Also, to keep my work clothes from getting "seepage" spots. Believe me, nothing sucks more than being in a meeting and realizing your forearms are bleeding through one of your nicest dress shirts and there's nothing you can do.
Since I'm cheap and somewhat practical, I also know that certain maxipads make decent ad-hoc bandages in a pinch, especially if the store you happen to go to is out of the largish gauze pads you need to use.
Now, if you happen to be an early 20s, attractive female clerk at a grocery store at 2AM and a tall man wearing a prominently displayed wedding ring shows up in your line with:
3 bottles of mineral oil
2 bottles of coconut oil
2 packages of baby rash ointment
2 bottles of Head and Shoulders
2 packs of kotex minipads
a large tube of preparation H
a package of zip ties
one brick of Monty jack cheese
one large package of emmenthaler cheese
two large containers of croissants
and four bottles of champagne (look, LurkerGirl was gone for THREE WEEKS. I wasn't coping well. And she doesn't like champagne, but I can drink it in a 24 oz mug nightly).
Level 1: You get kudos for quietly and nicely ringing everything up and putting it in a brown paper bag with no comment other than, "Do you have your rewards card?"
Level 2: If the drunk, underaged and not funny teenage females behind said tall man look at the content of his basket and says, "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING TONIGHT, YOU PERVERT?" to be funny, you get extra kudos for giving her the icy stare of doom.
Level 3: You get SUPREME EXTRA KUDOS WITH DRUNKENMONKEY FONDUE NACHOS AND LOVE ON TOP if you say, with a smirk, "Me, if I'm lucky," and say "Have a good night, sir".
Level 4: You get my undying love and devotion (in a platonic sense) if you card said stupid (and apparently stoned) SCs for their unopened box of Captain Crunchberries. Just because.
Girl at the all-night grocery store in North Rainy City in the Puget Sound, I never saw you again, but you totally and completely made my day one night in March 2011.
That's sweet.
(Also, the bleeding from random cracks? That's why I keep an army of bandaids at work in my smock)
Spent an hour and a half trying to get it to stop. Anybody else ever taken Plavix? That stuff is the work of the devil . . .
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