Well, not really. It was not an LSD-induced freakout. It was just a Sunday morning, when I found myself with some time on my hands; a blueberry and calamine face mask that, coincidentally, was the exact color of my pajamas; a cameraphone, and the willingness to make a damn fool of myself. Considering the circumstances, I think the result could have been much worse.
Cheez Whiz, ‘mouse, I didn’t think I looked *that* scary. (crestfallen) I mean...(swallowing lump in throat)...I did mention that my mask matched my pajamas, right?...some of the more artistic-minded types among us—Mrs. Goatwax, Ms. Hamsterchunks, Ms. Goliard—know a good Bloo Period when they see it...(sniffle)
Okay, okay. In the interest of retaining that feminine mystery that you boys like so much, no more pictures of Beauty Products in Action. I promise. 
Bill, would it horrify you more or less to know that I put weird-colored things on my face in the presence of men all the time? I’m particularly fond of walking up to Lloyd when I have green mask on my face and growling like Peter Boyle in Young Frankenstein. I am embarrassed by how much pleasure I take in that.
Eeeeek! (sounds of ‘Mouse running headlong into various furniture as he scrambles away in pure panic)