Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow
I don’t shave that often.
Well okay, I shave my face because everybody can see that right away, but not necessarily my legs, bikini line or underarms. I’ll let those slide for a few weeks until the leg hairs start poking through my pant legs… baggy pant legs.
What? Is that bad? 1-800-I-don’t-give-a-shit.
Yes, I shave my face. No, I do not have a beard. I have peach fuzz that women of a certain age get, barring the occasional tree branch that tries to grow out of my upper lip. I used to be a beautician and would have to tweeze those things out of my older client’s faces, now I have ‘em.
Life is cruel.
Actually, life isn’t cruel. If it was, I’d have hairy knuckles.
I’m single so why bother shaving? When I was in my youth, shaving was something I did religiously; I was in the shaver hall of fame! I started a shaving cult, because hair on a woman is evil, God be praised! For a long time I believed women weren’t supposed to have hair on their bodies, even though we do have hair on our bodies, for fuck’s sake.
We have hair everywhere men do (yep, same places) but women are made out to believe it’s some sort of genetic mistake; something grotesque that should be permanently removed. That’s how effective the media is. They make women believe they’re hideous creatures so we’ll spend thousands of dollars on their products.
“Hair on your body? You’ll never get a man! Here, buy this overpriced pink razor, which will appeal to your feminine side, and you’ll get rid of that unsightly body hair at the same time!”
“Gained weight? You’ll never get a man! Here, go on this diet for $300 dollars a month, which you’ll gain back within a year anyway because these diets don’t work.”
They’re all centered around getting a man too, as if being single is a crime. If it is, then lock me up and give me twenty! *snicker* *snort*
I mean, what man doesn’t want a chubby woman with hair all over her?! Shit, maybe that’s why I’m single. Naw… couldn’t be.
I’d shave if I had a man in my life. He has to shave too, though, and no, I’m not talking about shaving “down there” because that is so wrong. Look, if I wanted to sleep with a hairless, pubescent boy, I would. Wait, that doesn’t sound right. What I mean to say is, I’m not afraid of getting a pube stuck between my lips!
I like a man with hair on his body. Some hair, not a lot of hair. I’m not crazy about a mass of chest or back hair.
What I mean is, the man has to shave his face. He doesn’t have to be clean shaven; a goatee or Fu Man Chu is great, just no full on fucking beards. Jeez, I can’t wait ’til that goes out of style.
You know how when you’re at a restaurant enjoying your meal and then you feel a hair as you’re chewing your food and you go to pull it out and it’s long and not your color and you can’t eat your food anymore and you start to feel queasy? I can imagine that’s how having a beard is.
Gosh, I hope you’re not reading this while you’re eating something.