... the God of Hives is a mean and vengeful God. I should know. Just look back in this blog to December 2004 and you will feel a small fraction of the vengeful wrath of the God of Hives.
Well, as it now seems, the God of Hives comes forth from my body at this exact same time every year, usually for different versions of the exact same reasons. Last year it was on account of the news of our pregnancy, then our subsequent miscarriage. It was stress, work, stress, home, stress, and stress. This year it's a different version of that. Now we have a child and all it does is cry and eat, her cries tearing a mission holes in my heart. This year its stress, work, stress, family, stress, baby, and stress.
Same song, different chorus.
So anyhoo, while I was examining my hives in the mirror two hours ago and naming them (the massive one on my inner right bicep, the one that looks like a chicken with David Bowie lips, I've named "Chicken Elvis," an original concept and NOT one based on the movie "Rock-a-Doodle" ...) it suddenly came to me out of nowhere. Suddenly I realized exactly what I needed to do ...
The God of Hives demands a sacrifice in order for him to be appeased.
So I shaved my moustache.
Hopefully, that sumbitch be appeased. I'd show you a picture if I had a computer. And I would ask why I don't have a computer if somebody wasn't suddenly becoming a weeeeeee bit angry.
But hey! That anger is what made her a GVWA Champion.
PS, Claritin Hives works well. FYI for you there if you need it.