Dear Cyst—Today's that special day. I'm so glad we're here together so we can celebrate our brand-new life, and I'm proud to say and show that you are indeed mine. I remember when you were just a little nub-like bump on my tailbone that I would dismiss as some sort of skate/snowboard injury, probably a floating chunk of bone or some other goofy malady... My mistake, little buddy. Months went by and you did indeed grow quite quickly into a healthier-looking lump. I became pretty proud, and showed you to my girlfriend. She marveled in excitement over the possibilities of a virtual puss keg. And today was the day you were born. Happy Birthday, Cyst! When I got out of the shower today and saw you there totally red and ready, I gave you a nice soft press and you greeted the world like a tube of toothpaste (Crest Cinnamon?). Man, you smelled like ass marbled with snot, and I felt all tingly like an expectant parent should. Now that the puss is flowing, so will the good times. Welcome to the world Pilonidal Cyst, we are gonna fuck it up! We're in this together, yo! Love, Dad—Anonymous
Must Be Springtime
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