Supermax

I was just, in effect, skinned alive, again, by discount safety razors.
There's nothing safe about ripping off hairs and layers of epidermis by low-rent
face blades.
To make matters worse, after I rinsed off the raw remnants of my face,
I grabbed a wet, mildewed rag to get the excess shaving cream off
What I have now is a defenseless peace of land being invaded by fungal hordes.
I can only pray that princess toadstool will not turn my face into a tributary of the mushroom
kingdom. I feel like I just got slapped in the face with a rusty cheese grater, except there's no
fresh parmesan for my pasta tonight.

I'm investing in a real man's razor. That's right: a Sweeney Todd, Ginzu, slice-and-dice, Hattori Hanzo, +5 morale face blade. Eat shit and die, Shick Supermax.

Supermax, must be the kind of razors they give the inmates in Supermax prisons. But really, even if they were convicted of bombing WTC, leaders of the Gangsta Deciples, Unibombers, or Enron CFO's, I still wouldn't wish these unconstitional weedwackers to shave with.

Ya'll be good now.