THERE'S A WRINKLE IN MY PLANS OF WINNING PEOPLE'S SEXIEST MAN ALIVE CONTEST

I believe in karma.

So when I brag and flaunt something like having scored three tickets to the the hottest band in the land, it's only a matter of time before my bragging comes back and bites me on the ass.

Yesterday, I went to the bathroom at work.

It was a good pee.

A very good pee.

No pain.

No blood.

No foreign matter like a cigarette butt forcing its way through my urethra.

Your average pee.

But a decent one.

I zip up the pants and stare out the window of my personal bathroom that I occasionally let guests use.

I need to talk about my bathroom someday.

Just ... not today.

I go to the sink to wash my hands because they've been handling my massive tool 'o love and I was raised to scrub massive tool germs from my hands after urinating.

Most times, my mother was too drunk to get off the sofa to properly raise us kids. But she DID manage to instill the importance of clean hands before she was eaten up in the drunken haze that was her life.

So I'm washing my hands and I check my tie to make sure it's straight.

I gaze into the mirror at my face.

And then I see it.

A crease in my forehead.

I shoot my eyebrows down to make the crease disappear.

It doesn't disappear.

It sits there on my forehead ... silently mocking me.

I raise my eyebrows upwards toward the ceiling.

The crease remains steadfast.

I gasp in horror.

On September 30, 2003 ... I discover my very first ... oh God ... it's hard to even say the word ....

.....Wrinkle.

There. I said it.

Uncle Bob has a wrinkle.

And he found it after a tinkle.

(Hey, I'm the founder of Suck Ass Poems ... gimme a break)

I spun around in front of the mirror, hoping that the gravitational pull would pry this gaping disfigurement off my face.

No such luck.

I came home from work and instructed Susie to sit down as I had something very important to show her.

She sat down.

I pointed at my forehead.

She snorted and said "You've HAD that for months."

Had I?

Am I so un-vain that I hadn't ever bothered to stare into a mirror long enough to recognize my facial flaws?

Apparently so.

I woke up this morning and ran to the mirror, hoping against hope that yesterday was all a dream and that I still had my youthful beauty.

Uh uh.

Still there.

I fell to my knees and yelled "WHY GOD?!?! WHY ME?!?!?"

Susie stumbled from the bedroom, saying "SHHHHHHH!!! You're going to wake up the baby, you goddamned idiot!"

I fell to the floor, forehead first, sobbing for my past.

Okay.

Not really.

Actually, I got up, took a really shitty picture of the wrinkle for this webpage and decided to keep an eye on it, mentally chronicling its journey over time across my shiny forehead.

But I'm such a drama queen and that story of me crawling across the kitchen floor in hysterics sounded better.