Loving one's self

I just thought I'd share something with you. Especially due to the fact that November was the last date of my most recent post.
I was recently in a little town called LaPlace, Louisiana. I had just left Baton Rouge, Louisiana, and while in a hotel in Baton Rouge, I had shaved with a razor that I had never used. The razor was named "Soliel". I do not know why razor companies feel that they have to name their products the way they do but, be that as it may, this razor should have been called the "Face-A-Nator!", due to the fact that it ripped off half my freaking skin! And I will give it this, the shave was close.

Now I'm driving in the little town of Laplace. While checking to ensure that I didn't look like a guy with a newly made cleft palate,  I said to myself, internally of course, "You ought to just kiss your hand, you know, just to see how close the shave was". You know, just kiss it softly. Just to see if the shave feels like a babies bottom, which is a horribly creepy reference by they way. but whatever. So I kiss the back of my hand. You know, just to see how soft my gentle cheeks and lips are.
And I do it again.
Now I'm not making out with myself. I've just kissed my hand a couple of times to ensure the shave was good.
I look to my left and there is a car riding right along side my truck, with a terrified looking lady who is gazing at a man she can only think is making out with himself and enjoying it while on his daily commute.

I wave. She looks disgusted. I wait. She speeds up a little. I catch up and I slowly look over at her. I wink and then I slowly lick the back of my hand.

She broke the speed limit after that.