yes, kham is now the happy owner of the quintiscential dyke piercing.

the worst part wasn't the pain, or the cost, or the near passing out and falling onto the guy. it was the conversation. damn, its like when you go to the hairdresser (apparebtly people still do that these days) and they try and make polite conversation, and its awkwards, factor to the nth into that i'm a social fucktard when it comes to people i don't know and you could have cut the silence with a butter knife and possibly even a fork.