Face: The Final Frontier

After three long years of learning how to shave, constantly pushing the envelope, putting my cheeks on the line daily, I realized that I'm sort of an astronaut of cosmetology, and in a moment of enlightened self-actualization coined the term, "cosmetonaut." Both the reader and I know very well that I was forced to learn on-the-fly, by nature of my poor complexion and the sorry state of the art, as eroded by capitalism. The small indulgence was simply meant to compensate the terrible waste of my mind. Let me have this.

Today, my exploration of the somatic surface is increasing mankind's understanding of the crud behind our ears, clogged nose pores, and the dark side of the mouth.

wash behind your ears

It is sort of made of cheese, your face. Bacteria feeding on dead skin and sweat thrive in every crevice and crater, it seems. Food and spit can make anyone foul-mouthed. But Mom was right: the ears are the worst. I don't know what it is about earwax, or maybe the irritation from the earpieces of my eyeglasses, but that &#!% stinks. We have intelligence that the scourge can spread, also. It must be eradicated.

Scrubbing with a washcloth may actually be fine for the back of the ear, but what about the inside? I applied what I learned from the preshave problem: the principle of oil cleansing. A bit of TP held over the inverted mineral oil bottle absorbs enough to make a brilliant wipe, while a Q-tip dipped in same gets to the bottom of the problem.

out, damned spots

I've already alluded to cold cream being useful in conjunction with a wire loop tool, to take blackheads out of the nose. ("Sebaceous filaments," whatever. They're green, and they're gross.) You could, if you subscribe to my theory that preshave and oil cleansing are the same, consider this a skin prep proving ground. Actually, I like soap better. I don't lather it, just wipe a wet finger on the bar like I was loading a shaving brush. As in shaving, I apply tension behind the stroke with a dry finger, and use the mechanical advantage of lubrication to align it with the axis of the clogged pores.

Most people probably just press down, hurting themselves, the same sort of problem as cartridge razors. So I guess nobody will ever figure out how to do this right, either.

If you do manage to not break the skin, my secret razor burn cure happens also to be the ideal nose moisturizer: "Psoriasis" cream from Dollar Tree. Not only does salicylic acid calm irritation, it melts some of the remaining green goo and keeps oil flowing while the pores are shrinking down to a more reasonable size. Sunscreen seems to have the most powerful crud-liquefying power of all, for me, but I wouldn't do this procedure in daytime for fear of scarring and pigmentation effects.

are you pulling my oil?

Have you seen this? Have you heard about this? People are taking a couple teaspoons of coconut oil and swishing it around in their mouths until it is milky with oral detritus, up to 20 minutes. You're not supposed to swallow it afterwards, and you're not supposed to clog your drain pipes with it. You're supposed to spit it into the trash.

Gross! I say again: GROSS! Such unspeakable acts are obviously meant for the privacy of the bathroom. But ain't nobody cleaning that wastebucket! Actually, what made me think to write this article is the excess shaving oil I have in my medicine cabinet at the moment. There is no problem washing liquid oils down the drain, as proven by countless shaving missions.

But how does it taste? Three drops of the grapeseed/mineral/olive oil blend... on a TOOTHBRUSH, like a civilized human being... not terrible. Leaves a very clean feeling, and, as in shaving, less irritation. There is some question of whether the teeth can withstand abrasion under the softening influence of oil. Well, I'm not doing it for 20 minutes; that should help!

And, my teeth are already pretty beat from 45 years of toothpaste. I have grooves along the gumline of my bicuspids where the enamel has been worn away by toothpaste grit, and abfractures all over the place, which I suspect indicate that my teeth enjoy glycerin about as much as my skin does. So I'll take the chance, and try to come up with a more tasty blend.

Which reminds me -- Shave Secret: way too perfumey. Don't try that one. :P

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