I cannot express my level of discomfort, but let me say that if I was a dude I would not have even made it into work today. There is no bra made by man (nor, I contend, beast) that can possibly work without touching my fiery and painful rash of damnation.
This is a rash of perhaps not biblical proportion, but maybe of biblical origin; am I being scourged by God? My guess would be that He's ticked about the cursing and the hating everyone and whatnot. Maybe hydrocorisone does not work on scourges. That would explain a lot.
I have now made an appointment to see my doctor today at 3. Undoubtedly, she will then become exposed and turn around and expose countless patients to my horrifying, but very gradual zombification.
Today I'm scratching my back... sometime next year I'm scratching yours.
With my teeth.