When you’re a kid you may get a wart or two. (Your wartage may vary.) But when your skin passes its Sell By date, you get the epithelial equivalent of weeds–little outgrowths that are sometimes like browned marshmallows, sometimes like itty-bitty punching bags, but always disconcerting.
I have one near my left armpit that is crusty-white on top (perhaps due to callusing; I fervently hope it is that, and not something more dire) and getting-a-sunburn-pink at the root. If you’re squeamish, read and look no further–a photograph follows.
Skin tags may be removed with nail scissors. I’ve done it exactly once in my tag-growing career. The pain is minimal, about the same as the pinchy stab you get when donating blood, but the odd like-cutting-cardboard textured sensation gave me the heebie-jeebies, and I’m going to let a professional do it next time I see one.