​​What follows is a true story of how -- at the age of 6 -- I became addicted to picking my nose with paper cones. It's an 'inside look' of how it started, developed, and eventually ended (ostensibly) after a few years of failed attempts.

As promised in an earlier post, here's the photo of that horrible moment when I realized I couldn't actually ride a horse, not to mention bareback. Sure, my decision to gallop to the tune of "HEAA" was ill-advised. But the movie that played in my head, between mount and dismount, if you like, was that of a naturally talented, tough, all around renaissance man; the kind portrayed in those  Dos Equis commercials. I thought to myself, as I handed my cell over for safe keeping, "I too can be the most interesting man in the world..." All I had to do was jump the gate triumphantly, and gallop off into the valley.