Well, as much as I'd like to say it's a pleasure not having unsightly skin tags lurking around on my neck anymore, I have to tell you, they were a part of me and tonight, when they'd normally be safe and sound right with me, they're in some pile of medical waste at my doctors office.

It took just 10 minutes for Doctor Ramon to freeze the area and the begin the process of burning them off with a special "skin tag burning tool." I hate to say this, but I rather enjoyed the "bacon-esque" aroma. I digress.

Honestly, I didn't think I'd be this affected by their loss. But these skin tags, all named after former presidents, had become friends to the point that, whenever I was indecisive about anything, I'd tell them, "go ahead little presidents, discuss and give me an answer." I always felt more secure in my decisions after handing it off to the capable presidents. Now, they're dead. All of them. I have myself to thank for their demise. Well, myself and my doc, Ramon. I'll bet HE'S not missing them tonight like I am. And if he is, he knows where they are. He may have even brought them home in one of those medical things. What are they? Petri dishes? Yeah, I'll bet that's what he did. But it will do him no good because dead presidents can't solve problems for you.

Okay, suffice it to say that the trauma of losing them today has really gotten to me. I need to step back, think about better days when the little presidents were on my skin, and keep them in my memory. It's just not going to be the same without them here with me.