All day long, I thought of my knee wound as “Crunchy Black,” but then some chemistry happened underneath a band-aid, so for now, it’s more accurate to refer to it as “Juicy J.”
The uncensored version of this photo, for all my gore-loving friends, is after the cut. Except for my friends reading via feed readers and anyone unlucky enough to visit my Flickr stream. Sorry, dudes. It’s a harsh world out there.
I now fully understand why you got wails of horror in your meeting. Reading the words Juicy J made me my stomach contemplate re-visiting my breakfast.
Hell YES. Recognize da Realnezzz. You can’t fade Lindsey-
I am quitting my feedreader and going back to bookmarks. Stat.
Awesome! I love a good battle scar.
Eww. Gotta love the pus.
Gah!!!! Did that happen at musicfest? Jeebus, girl, that shit is juicin’ as we speaks.
You have definitely suffered for your art. Or somebody’s art. Or undergone something painful for something good.
Whatever. Your toughness is on display. In full, if nauseating, color.