Hello, My Name is Brandon and I Have a (Not So) Secret Addiction
It's not porn, you perverts. Or drugs, or anything so peculiar or strange it could be featured with those weirdos on TLC that eat mattress pads, drink their own pee or give themselves coffee enemas.
It's lip balm! Or what I just call chap stick, not to be confused with the the actual brand (like calling all soft drinks cokes--we clear? Good.).
I go into full blown panic mode if I reach down in my right pocket and don't feel a tube in there. I have been addicted to using chap stick with great frequency daily for as long as I can remember. It's like when a smoker reaches for a cigarette, I reach for my chap stick.
Many moons ago, I spent the night in jail for not passing a sobriety test, which I contend I did, and they took all of my possessions, including my trusty tube of Carmex. Being without, my lips burned with fire, red from dehydration. All I could think about was getting my chap stick back. That was the worst experience of my night in jail. Not listening to the multiplying morons babble on and on that I was caged in the cell with, or the cold, unforgiving concrete floor I tried to catch shut eye on or the terrible breakfast that I devoured anyway. When I made bail, I tore open the bag and gave my lips the sweet relief they'd been craving for hours. I Carmex'd the shit out of them.
By now, you understand chap stick is a staple of my everyday being. Some chap stick is pure shit. The Chapstick brand sucks and tastes like wax (I might as well rub a candle on my lips). Blistex is awful. I was faithful to Carmex for years, but now I pretty much exclusively use tubes from The Fresh Market and Burt's Bees.
The other night I bought a brand new tube of Burt's Bees, flavored vanilla bean. Four dollars for that tube. The very next day, I went to my bowl on the counter that collects chap stick, keys, pens and other crap. My brand new tube of vanilla bean was missing. I checked the pockets of my pants...no luck. Someone stole it. I knew it. I suspected one of my children, as they both have the same addiction with lip balm as me. They had gone to spend the night with my dad and step-mom, so when my dad returned them home the next day, I immediately accosted my seven-year-old daughter. She denied taking it, then promptly blamed her brother, my four-year-old son. I checked his short pockets and what do you think I found? I took the cap off and he had twisted the balm up the entire way and jammed the cap back on. The whole damn tube was ruined. Disgusted, I threw it in the trash. I told him he owes me $4 to replace my vanilla bean tube of Burt's Bees. He said he didn't have any money. I sighed...heavily, and lectured both of them (as I believe they conspired together) to not touch MY tubes of chap stick. They have their own to ruin and misplace, they need not wally around with mine.
This is my current stash of chap stick. The ChapStick is emergency only. The Chap-et is a vintage collectible my friend brought me from a gas station afar. WHAT DO YOU NOT SEE THAT BELONGS IN THIS COLLECTION???!!!
Finally, this is me showing off my freshly chapsticked smackers. Ohh remember Lip Smackers? I may or may not have that collection too. Memories...