For some of you a lot of suspicions are confirmed by this photo of my forearm so I hate to immediately disappoint your lengthy cognition on the subject but I am not a cutter. On a side note, I think its weird that there are 2 p's in disappoint. I digress, these wounds were inflicted upon me by a viscous and destruction feline that goes by the name of Dexter and shares many traits with the main character of a show by the same name. This picture was taken after they had a chance to heal and the blood wasn't flowing unchecked. This got really interesting when I went to work that day. In an effort to avoid making people think I was a cutter I wore a long sleeve hoodie, however it was a bit to short (I don't own much clothing from the sweat family of garments) so people kept catching glances of deep furrows carved into my flesh. This had the effect of undermining my efforts to avert concern and in fact amplified not only the curiosity but the conviction that I was inflicting these unsightly slices on myself because of my efforts to hide them. It took about 3 weeks to get everyone straightened out through a series of awkward conversations and a thorough flaunting of my injury. Next time I'm just buying gauze and saying I got mugged.