It’s my birthday on Wednesday and I can finally have my ears pierced according to a long-standing agreement between me and my parents and I. I have at least six other friends going with me for moral support and to hold my hand. I know I’m a wimp but having said that I bet a very brave person (the bravest person I can think of at this moment is myself – although I think I’m more stupid than brave) would be scared after some of the stories I’ve heard. Firstly there’s the threat of profuse bleeding and the sudden inset of haemophilia. Then there’s endless tales of butterflies and/or studs getting embedded in the flesh and having to have them surgically removed, the only painkiller used being iodine. There are also the rumours, things that have happened to my cousin’s friend’s brother’s girlfriend. When she was having her ears pierced the needle-type-thing hit a nerve and her ears were permanently paralysed from the waist downwards. Or there’s the threat of the cartilage in your ear being cracked and in your latter years your ears going all floppy like Dogga’s (for those of you who remember that soft, brown dog – heehee!)
So anyway, I hope you will remember me on Wednesday. I must sign off here; my fate awaits me……….

Postscript:
As it turned out, I went to Cirencester with my mum to have them done. No fuss, no audience, no pain (nearly). My life is becoming so humdrum and normal……

By Schizophrenic Pyromaniac