At what point did my body throw in the towel? At what point did my body think it was cool to stop working to restore the troops on my head and go for a sneak attack on my shoulders. Now I am not going to try and pretend that I have not been a hairy person up to this point, but there were rules, boundaries if you will. But whoever has been incharge since 96' is a total nutjob. He has no respect for what is my ass and what is my lower back. The other day I noticed that I had a lone hair on my ear and I almost wept, I mean that's it. I might as well get ready to start combing my eyebrows and pretending that I don't notice the carrot stock of hair growing strait out of my ears. But that's sissy talk. So I have decided to throw a party for hair on my neck and lure all those rouge bastards in. And once they are there I am going to have my sideburns kick their ass and force them into hard labor on the barren wasteland known as the top of my head.
If that doesn't work I am waxing my whole body, like the great flood, and starting over.
4 comments:
Part of me is dead inside because of the image of Aaron as a naked mole rat. A tall, dangling naked moloe rat. My God.
For what it is worth... the last two pieces you have done have been money. So money that I just referred to them as pieces.
*mole
mole rat
Aparently, gravity does strange things to a man's hair as time goes on...
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