Well, I am happy to report that the swelling has indeed gone down. The soft blood pockets under my eyes are a little less full, the unicorn's horn is receding back into my skull. I still can't go out in public without terrifying children and dogs, but I am at least getting a glimpse of what I might look like when all of this puffiness subsides.
(Just kidding about scaring children and dogs: I have a foolproof disguise.
Just a normal, everyday dude! No major facial discoloration here!
Actually, now that the swelling has gone down, I have ditched the bloody flu mask in favor of a new look:
Also, before you ask, no, I don't know the directions to the homosexual rodeo.
Anyway, onto the pictures of the swelling/non-swelling:
Okay, after the last post, many of you, some of whom were my mother, and some of whom were not my mother, remarked that I looked miserable, and so that I must be in pain. Not true! Those of you who know my best know that I am capable of being miserable without pain as a justification.
So I embarked to take a picture of myself looking happy, despite the bruises and disfiguration. This proved harder than it sounds.
This was my first attempt at what happy people call a "smile." I don't know much about this "smile"; supposedly in order to broadcast happiness, one can simply press their two rows of teeth together, as though biting an invisible Twizzler.
Also, my eyes look really pretty here.
I looked happier in my second photo, but unfortunately a bat flew in front of the flash. My eyes look pretty again.
In other news, this photo won me a role as the latently possessed villain in The Ring 4.
Anyone else think I look a little like an older Elizabeth Taylor here?
This is the closest I ever got to true happiness. Look at me, laughing, carrying on!
Also, if you are wondering why I am not wearing a shirt, then obviously you have never lived with me.
So, there is your day 2 update. Swelling and bruising are down, happiness and shirtlessness are up.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go run my fingers through my sweaty, greasy square-patch chest hair.