You see, when I started this blog the whole idea of basing a blog around the answers to questions was a fairly new concept. But it’s so hard to be different. Many of this type of site go for fairly serious, hard-hitting, journalistic dynamite style of questioning. Me? Nah. I go for opinions on freckles. It has some ‘journalistic dynamite’. Plus, I have to answer this without upsetting anyone. We can’t have the internet upsetting people now, can we?
Freckles. Without upsetting anyone. Hmm. Well, here goes. They’re bloody awful. Truly awful. I mean, how can one sum up the sheer awfulness of freckles? I mean, talk about the epitome of hatred. How can one look upon this vile curse without bursting ones sides in laughter. I mean, even the name is screwed up. It’s an old word, freckles, meaning ‘scattered’. What the – heck – does that even mean? Is it supposed to be sweet? ‘Aww, it’s scattered like marbles among leaves and nothing at all like some venereal disease’. There. Nice and delicate. I don’t think that upset anyone.
No, seriously, I’m not a huge fan of freckles. My turned to spots. You should see my school photos. Absolutely cute. I’m not bigheaded, but they made me look lovely. Then roles 13, that horrid age. You go from cute to crap. Especially if you had as many freckles as I did. Since those darkest of days, my fondness for freckles has dwindled significantly. They may still be cute, but let this be a warning:
They sit and stare. Scattered upon one’s face. Then suddenly, when you least expect it, you wake up one terrible morn and they have turned on you. For they are now acne. On your face like a hobo from hell.
(I’d love to hear your thoughts on this post. To do so, you can leave a comment by pressing the bubble on the top right of this post and scroll to the bottom of the new page you’re taken to. Likes and follows greatly appreciated. Thanks).