Zits. Dang. Again.

What. The. Heck.

I was standing in the kitchen today, and felt something strange on my hip. Like right where the waistline hits your hip bone. Well, just below that on the butt side, but not on the butt? You feel me? I thought I got bit by a spider or something, so I took a quick peek and there was a friggin’ zit right there. Un-freakin’-believable. Stay on the face, please, you bastards.

I couldn’t handle the thought of it, so I just took it out right there on the spot. It was ready to go. Needless to say that was a nice cue to take a shower. And I did. Take a shower. I scrubbed every dead skin cell off of my body. Time for a little renewal.

You know what’s kind of sad? When you blog, you’ve got these categories in which your posts somehow fit. One category that I developed on a particularly bad day a couple years ago was “High School Sucks.” Apparently, that day…it did. Serious suckage. As I was categorizing this post, I got excited to tap into the “When Zits Explode” category, but then I thought, “I’ll never have need for High School Sucks again…” Then I was really upset with myself. Am I missing high school? Already? Geez, Louise. I’ve been a graduate for less than a freakin’ month and I’m already a tad bit sad to say goodbye. I’m abnormal. Ab. Normal. Ab. Nor. Mal. Mal means bad in Spanish.

La arana loca es en mi calcetine.  The crazy spider is in my sock. There’s supposed to be a squiggly over the n in arana, so it’s pronounced aron-ya, but I don’t know how to do the squiggly.

I made a pie today. It’s time to take it out of the oven. That’s what I was doing in the kitchen when I discovered the hip zit. No, I didn’t…leave it out. I’m very sanitary when cooking. And yes, it’s from scratch. It may suck, but then, if it does, I’ll say it was store bought.



I could feel it coming on, but oh, man, it’s here. Thank God I’m running track. More on that in another post. Right now I have to talk about how lazy I’ve become in all other aspects of life. I’m just itchy. I’m itchy like a zit that lingers after poppage. After scabbage. I just wanna take off running and keep running until I’m interested enough in something to make me stop and look at it for awhile.

My school work is a cake walk. I literally spend my days looking through classes available at Fort Lewis so I’ll have several to choose from when I register this summer. It’s just time to move on, you know? It has been a wonderful ride, and I think back and remember all the crazy stuff that has happened in the past four years, but I guess my mindset has always been geared beyond that. Like, when I graduate in May, it’s not going to be anything special. It won’t be some symbolic bridge…not to me, at least.

I miss Maggie. I’d be lying if I said things were great between us. We’ve discussed a number of things, and it’s just hard being away from people you share basically everything with. We’re both planning to work during our spring break’s so we can spend some cash traveling to one another for graduations and stuff.

The only thing I’m enjoying about school right now is the social element. Lunch is what I look forward to on a daily basis. My skin? H to the e to the LL no, it doesn’t make me want to look in the mirror. Not pleasant or pretty these days. Nope. Not even enjoying my movie class right now. Some parents were complaining about the subject matter we were taking in, so you can pretty much scrap any edgy stuff that isn’t completely formulaic. Fortunately, in April, we’re going to have two weeks of Terrence Malick’s stuff, and I think I’ll come around by then.

Senioritis is about as enjoyable as tonsillitis, but probably not as bad as epididymitis. One of my buddy’s had that and had to stay in the hospital for two days with a catheter. Just saying that makes my weenis hurt. That’s some perspective for ya.

I Think I’m Depressed…

Can I really be going through withdrawals?

No Choxie truffles for almost 3 days, and I’m really struggling. I’m back home. I didn’t get much for Christmas this year, and I had asked that it be that way, but what I didn’t expect was tickets to the BCS National Championship game! Even still, I’m totally bummed today. I think it’s the inevitable back to work/back to school/back to life reality that always follows the holiday season. It’s freaking depressing. So depressing I can feel a zit stewing…wanna guess where? Behind my ear. Not in it or on it, behind it. What a sonofa…

Last night I got my information together for my application to Fort Lewis College. I’ll wait to hear back from them, and then I need to pull the trigger. I’m kind of leaning that way right now. I don’t know, it just seems like it would be the greatest adventure for the college experience. The other places are cool, but as their thousands of students prove, it’s not a very unique choice. Well, I guess none are truly unique, but with hundreds of thousands of people also living in those general areas, it just seems like Durango, CO, might be the right fit for me. Anyway, I’m not divulging more than that…

So. High School. Talk about blah. I think I may run track this spring, just to keep the competitive juices flowing. Have no idea what events I might run. I have speed, but not 100 meter speed. Like, I would probably compete in the event, but I won’t ever win it, you know? I’m thinking 400m maybe… possible 800m. Combining speed and some endurance training. And I can jump well. Who knows. Who knows if I’ll even run…

I need a truffle. Not want… Need.

OK. I gotta get a little bit of work done. I suppose I’ll hit pause on zit blog for today.

OH, wait. Gotta mention…how about the dead birds falling from the skies in Arkansas and then Louisiana? WTFmyZits is that all about?

A YEAR in Review

Dudes. Dudettes. Guys. Gals. Chicos. Chicas. Homeys. Chix.

It has been a YEAR for F*** My Zits. Considering most new businesses or entities make it this far, I must say, HOW AWESOME ARE MY ZITS? Where have been, where will we go?

Last December: Introduction to my life, my way of living and what zits have done for me. I went sledding and met an awesome girl who became my long-distance girlfriend. She’s hot, and I’m so thrilled I’ll see her soon.

I got into arguments with teachers, popped zits, pulled public pranks, looked for new ways to treat zits and enjoyed a wonderful summer away from home…learning new ways to treat zits.

I rapped a little bit, ya know? Here’s another little taste of the flava.

Rollin’ for a year. Rollin’ for a year.
My zits rock the fly-by like they’re crusin’ in a Leer…

I got into a fight. I kicked some a$$. I gotta have the dollar signs, because that $h*t was MONEY!!!!

I’ve worked at multiple car lots. I’ve made some keep.

I fell in love, and haven’t acted like a doof about it.

I joined the football squad. Became a first year starter, and got to be part of school history.

In all of it… I rocked the zits with pride.


Remember when I went sledding? Remember that!? C’mon! Remember it!!!!!!!!! Oh the angst, oh, the battles with the mirror, oh, the high school drama.


Thanks for sticking with me. It has been a wild ride. Gonna do my best to make it even better in year two! I know I”ll be busier, I know the senioritis is going to kick in and I know that there will be many-an-adventure around the corner. I’m determined to get a job as a beer slinger for the Diamondbacks! No. No, I’m not determined.

But what I do know is that there was an odd band in the 80s and 90s called Timbuk 3, and they pretty much sum up how I feel blasting into December!


The Confontation…

You know that feeling you get when you’re going to confront someone about something hard to say? It may not be bad news…it may be good news, or sad news. You still get that feeling.

My ISS was greeted by more oil and grease on my face than I had ever experienced. I think my adrenal glands were working overtime, and my testosterone was off the charts in a silent rage. My face has broken out since Tuesday worse than I can ever remember it. I’m sure it has to do with the fact that I just said screw everything and tossed my skin care aside. You see, these are the moments I keep this blog for. The rage.

Rewind. I’m a lot more calm now. But thinking about it still gets me fired up.

I waited until after school yesterday. I told my coach that I might be a few minutes late for practice, and to please tell my position coach it was for a school activity. When he asked me what I was doing, I came straight out and said it. He just looked at me and nodded. “Any advice?” I asked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about…” he replied. It was on. I knew she had a planning period during the last hour of school, but that she was also overseeing some extra curricular activities post-school day. Once school ended, I went into her classroom and sat at a desk in her front row. Alone. I knew she’d be along shortly.

When she walked in, I didn’t look at her. I could feel her nerve strike its match.

“How can I help you, Mr. (Me)”

“I’ve got a bone to pick.”

“Oh really? I have to assume that it’s not related to academics, being that I’ve never had you in class.”

“You’re as sharp as a tack Ms. (so and so). What’s your problem with athletes? More specifically, why did you feel the need to ride my slip of the tongue into a day of In School Suspension?”

“I don’t really have anything to say to that. What kind of response are you hoping for? An apology?”

“Did I ask for an apology? Seriously, what’s your problem with athletes? —

“You need to leave my classroom. I have activities that I need to prepare for.”

I got up and moved toward the door.

“It’s like you’re always out to make an example of someone. I’ve heard stories of how you talk about the ‘silly nature’ of football in class. I’m a scholar, too, ya know? I take my academic career very seriously. I chose not to tell my parents about the ISS, but maybe I should change my tune.  See if we couldn’t get someone else into this classroom who can teach and support students in things they love to do.”

I stormed out. I felt the underhanded threat was just childish enough to leave the situation. And I wasn’t even late for practice. Awesome.


I’m in trouble. Seriously. I’m in trouble for what I said at our assembly. I mentioned it in my last post.

I got called into the office first thing today, and as far as today is concerned, they gave me the option of doing one day of ISS (In School Suspension) today, or tomorrow. I told them tomorrow. I wanna be pissed off for a day. When I went into the office, it was the principal and my coach who were sitting there.

Apparently a couple teachers complained, and when I confronted them about who it was, they wouldn’t divulge the information. That leads me to think that my coach doesn’t know, or he would have told me. Or they’re both lying to me, and it was one person who complained. I have a pretty good idea who it probably is. And you’re absolutely right, I’m going to confront her – yeah, HER – about it. I won’t miss anything for being ISS, but what sucks is the fact that I’ll have to help in the cafeteria, and work with the janitorial crew all day.

I mean, man, this is some bullcrap. Is ass even a bad word anymore? Do I use language like that on a regular basis? When I asked what was so bad about it, my principal had to admit that it wasn’t really that big of a deal, but we couldn’t allow for it to seem like I was getting away with using language that is against school policy. My argument is that such language, in our rules, is against policy for the cause of disrupting classroom activity. It really shouldn’t apply. We could have argued and discussed the merit of my suspension, but they kind of let me know they were on my side and needed to do this to keep the peace. Good for them. I’m not havin’ it. Like I said. I’m going to confront this woman. I’m 99 percent sure I know who it is. I know I keep saying that, and it’s just because I’m running down my list of other possibilities…

Ya see… she doesn’t like “jocks.” She thinks all the money in the school goes to the athletic programs… She thinks that sports are pretty much worthless and a waste of time. And I’ll tell you what, I’m gonna light her up, and not on “school hours” either. Gonna remind her she wouldn’t have a job here if it weren’t for us.

You’re dang straight I can feel my face exploding with something right now. I’m going to name my next zit in her honor.

Justin Bieber has Acne?

What’s with this dude? See, to all of you, he’s “that kid.” I have to look at the little hipster as a freakin’ peer. He’s of my generation. Do you know how bad that sucks? I’m not in my late 30s. I’m not in my early 30s. I don’t get to be part of the irreverent, yet well-accomplished Gen-X… You know how much cooler it is to be of Chris Cornell’s generation than Justin Bieber’s? Eddie Vedder. The Jonas Brothers. Fiona Apple. Taylor Swift. You understand what I’m saying?

Then I see tonight that Justin Bieber is now using Proactiv. What the heck?? He has zits? Have you ever seen one? You can’t escape his face, and I’ve never seen one! That kid is such a punk-a. When I read the other day on this blog that he got away with hitting a cop with a water balloon, I seriously wanted to hunt the kid down and smack him around. I have the feeling I’m not the only one who feels that way. Now he’s jacking my claim to fame–acne. Next thing I know he’ll be enrolling in some high school to play football. Punk-a.

How’s Mags, you ask? She’s doing well. Really enjoying her senior year as well. I just found out that she’s gonna come out for Homecoming. I obviously can’t go to hers because we’ll have a game that night… You know, it may seem nuts, but this “long distance” relationship has really worked out for us. I think you can really rock the overkill in young relationships, but we’re both completely chill about being apart, and can just set everything aside when we get to hang out. Don’t get me wrong, it sucks at times, and I was a little worried when I was going to be in Wisconsin for the summer, but the dynamic didn’t get funky. So. Like I said. She’s good. We’re good.

Peace out, homeys… I gotta get to bed. Oh. And that monster zit on the bridge of my nose. It peaked, and it exploded sometime while I was asleep last night. Nasty…I know.