Saturday, December 5, 2009


Apologies for touching on such a mundane topic, but, as this is the complete guide, I'm afraid, for completeness, we must discuss hair today. Some my find this topic disturbing, so I encourage you to move along in your perusal of the internet, especially if you happen to be female, single, between the ages of 20 and 30, and not yet terrified with the prospect of going out with me.

I think we're all familiar with hair and its unusual tendency to behave like the police: never around when you need it, and always showing up in inconvenient places.

Take, for instance, the back. The back is a peaceful part of the body. It inflicts no harm on nobody. It doesn't deserve to be tortured. Yet, for whatever reason, many1 find their backs being attacked by hair infestations, as it breeches the natural defenses imposed by the shoulders and starts its southern campaign.

Should you find yourself afflicted with this problem, I have but two bits of advice to impart to you: a) zap yourself with every laser in existence, or b) barring that, never, ever, ever walk outside shirtless in any environment ever. Wear a shirt swimming if needs be. Even stop during fire alarms to ensure you are robed. Please. I beg of you. There is no situation in which seeing someone with hair on their back is not like drinking month-old curdled milk.

Hair is associated with manliness. This can be seen by analyzing the common expression, "it'll put hair on your chest". Millions of teenagers may find themselves duped into wishing they had hair on their chest, so they could be manly. Some particularly sissy teenagers may actually believe that having hair on their chest will remove the stigma of sissiness from them. For the record, I have first-hand experience that this is not so2.

Please, for the love of all that is good in this world, do not wish for such a cursing. I too was misled by my brothers, thinking a hairy chest was something to be desired. It is only in my later years that I realize such a thing is wrong, yea, even a false tradition of my fathers, even if it is manly. Why? Women dislike hair.

Before you tell me I'm wrong, let us reminisce about the time, four months past, when I found myself at a party wearing a polo shirt, from which may or may not have emanated a tiny amount of hair (let me emphasize: tiny). I may or may not have been raised believing this was a desirable thing, as I may or may not have been told that very thing by a male family member who shall remain nameless. Now, let us recall with horror the conversation I had with the cute girl who began elaborating, loudly, how disgusting she thought said practice was3. That was the fastest conversation I ended in my life4.

Earlier I lied, obviously, as women do love hair, as long as it is one place: on your head. Or possibly a sweet beard.

Let us pause for a moment to consider the injustice of being able to grow hair on your arms, chest, neck, face, ears, nose, thumbs5, toes, and yet find yourself balding6.

Life isn't fair.

1. And I want to be very clear on this point: I am speaking only of others in this specific case. For now.
2. Never speak to me of the pool party I once attended, where among two dozen deeply unsissy men, I was the only one with a spec of hair on my upper body.
3. I wasn't able to determine if I was the cause of her outburst. She certainly wasn't interested in me, so maybe that was her way of telling me to get away? Whatever it was, it was super awkward. And I don't wear that polo shirt anymore.
4. Lies. Second fastest, after that conversation in which the girl accused me of being a conversation stopper. I still treasure that moment.
5. Seriously. Thumbs. What sort of horrible deed did I do in a previous life to deserve hair on my thumbs??
6. I found out a month ago. I think it was the fourth worst day of my life.


Jess said...

Footnote 6: What were the other 3 worse days?

Every party needs a conversation stopper, you save others from even more awkward moments by assisting in the stopping of the ones they currently were in.

jeremiah said...

I am afraid to ask, but am I the brother that shall remain nameless? I'm pretty sure I can't think of anyone else that would fall into that category.

chris said...

it's true, it's true. thou art the man. I couldn't help but relay the story, thinking you'd find it entertaining.