Out, Out, Damned Spot!

I was just sitting here innocently paying the final bills for the golf course and glanced down. To my horror I saw a little brown spot. I hoped it was chocolate or coffee, I'd have settled for a freckle, but it I was to be honest with myself I would have to admit to an age spot.

But honestly is highly overrated. In fact, I have been an advocate for lying for years. The truth usually hurts, often offends and is seldom the best policy. So the little brown spot on my hand is not an age spot or liver spot but a new beauty mark.

Oh I am so lovely.