"No, BJ, we don't. That's because we aren't dumber than the average dairy cow. You, on the other hand, are a dumbass and probaby WOULD do something just because some guy said to."

Friend: Hey BJ, cut off your foot.

Me: Uh, no.

Friend: Yeah, me and Mike knew you wouldn't.

Me: Oh really? Mike said I would't cut my foot off huh? Well dammit, I'ma cut off MY WHOLE F'ING LEG, JUST TO TEACH MIKE NOT TO BET AGAINST ME!

...

Ahem.

Back to my story. No, you don't have to tell me it's not a good idea to do something just because someone says you won't. Yes, I did just that. No, I didn't cut off my leg. Yes, it still hurt. But I'll have you all know that after I pierced my tongue I was ten bucks richer. Even though the piercing cost me 51 bucks. So yes, I was technically 41 bucks behind, but I had proved a point, dammit. And that point was:

I am a puss.

Oh, I went through with the piercing and all, and I think it looks cool, but man, I was almost crying when we got to the place.

Addie: You sure about this Beej? I won't really make fun of your lack of manhood behind your back if you wuss out and don't do this like the pansy you are.

BJ: *Sob* No *breathe* I *breathe* want *breathe* to *moan*.

So, shaking like a Mexican space shuttle, we went to a piercing studio close to where I live. The guy's basement didn't LOOK very clean, but he assured me that the nailgun he was about to use had just been dipped in Everclear to kill "all them li'l nasties that live on there."

Just kidding again. It was a really clean place, but there were these pictures all over the walls of people just pierced everywhere, man. Pierced faces, chests, necks, ass cheeks, everything. And chains connecting them all. And they didn't have that Mentos smile that screams "I'm pierced and HAPPY!"... it was more a look of, how should I say, angst, contempt for life, and, oh yeah, HELLA PAIN.

So piercer dude tells me to close my eyes, very perceptive in noticing that I'm about to piss with terror. And boom boom boom, he pierced my tongue. Didn't hurt, really. Didn't hurt much that night, either. Matter of fact, it didn't really hurt until the next day when I TRIED TO EAT. I have seen six month old children with spaghetti and meatballs on their plates that have been more coordinated and less messy than me trying to eat with a pierced tongue. I guess that's what I get for trying to eat with my new jewelry.

But I'm sort of getting used to it now. It bothered me at first, but not anymore. Oh, wait, maybe I'm conveying the wrong idea. My piercing still hurts, but I'm getting used to the idea of not eating. I told y'all, I'm a puss.

Very slimming, these piercings...