My gushing head wound

Last week I decided to stand out.
Enough of being a wallflower, enough of blending into the background, enough of going unnoticed by even the most appalling looking members of the opposite sex, enough of being mistaken for a speed bump or a potted plant.
I will be seen!
But how?
I can't hang my hopes on getting adopted by a wealthy, high profile family this late in life. Maybe I can stand in Times Square with a balding, saucy talking parrot, or make an Internet video where I play Obama being visited by Lincon’s ghost who also just happens to be drinking a Pepsi.
No.
I need a real showstopper, something sure to stand out.
And then it hit me. Literally. All it takes to get noticed is a gushing head wound.
Now, as the yogurt and regional car dealership endorsements roll in and I make club appearances with Lindsay Lohan and her gushing nose, or guest star on a very special episode of John and Kate Plus 8 where I teach the octuplets the importance of safety when using a wood chipper, and to that end, the importance of family; I look back on my obscure past, into the feelings of inadequacy mired in meaninglessness and I think gratefully on my positive life choice to become a person who counts.