From a curious mind come bizarre questions. Most of my questions relate to pubic hair and baldness. It was only a matter of time until the two topics collided.
I'm no scientist but if general baldness can happen (of the cranium) who's to say that pubic baldness couldn't happen? Sure, some view pubic hair as nothing more than another hassle to maintain what with the constant trimming, washing, combing, perming and braiding so these people would likely view pubic balding as more of a blessing than a curse.
However, I see pubic balding among the general population as a potential profit center. Think of the millions of dollars made by the makers of Rogaine. The men buying these cans of foam are desperate to hold on to and re-grow their hair. It makes sense that vanity, as fair as hair goes, would continue to one's nether regions and extend below the belt. Pubic hair, in spite of the general view that presentation of it and the pubic region is best left behind closed doors, is nothing to be ashamed of.
Maybe we're to the point in our evolution that pubic baldness isn't actually baldness, it could just be the natural course of things to come. Maybe three generations from now all those places doing full Brazilian waxing will be out of business because nobody has any nether-regional hair left to be excruciatingly ripped out. It would really be a blessing for all of those strippers giving table dances at King of Diamonds in Inver Grove Heights but what aabout all of those unemployed waxing technicians? What about my grandiose plans for Pubic Rogaine?
What about visiting MinnPics to make yourself clean after reading an entire post about pubic hair?
Showing posts with label men. Show all posts
Showing posts with label men. Show all posts
Monday, September 21, 2009
Friday, July 31, 2009
Things guys have done
I'm always up for a good read I find online via a couple clicked links. I'm even more up for that good read if it involves something I can, like, totally relate to. It gets even better if it's soemthing funny. Factor in a points system and it's fucking gold.
All of the above happened as I read Things Guys Have Done. Sadly (or happily) I can fess up to about 95% of the items listed including melting ice at a urinal, belching sentences and eating so much at a buffet that I pooped and came back for more because it was probably the best meal I was going to have in quite some time.
Those items take me back to a time when I could get away with not doing the dishes for a week. Not because I didn't want to do them (I really didn't want to do them) but because why in the hell would I need to wash 2 plates, a bowl and three glasses? There's a whole cupboard of those very items left and they're clean. But if I open the fridge and it's looking empty it's off to the liquor store because it's better to be safe than sorry - especially when it's 10:05 PM on a Saturday night and your only options are to drive to Iowa way too early on Sunday morning or head to an off-sale shop and pick up some overpriced 3.2 beer that would make most people consider brewing their own bathtub gin.
Those are the decisions that plague the modern male.
Even more decisions await about busying your weekend. A few ideas, in photo form, live at MinnPics.
All of the above happened as I read Things Guys Have Done. Sadly (or happily) I can fess up to about 95% of the items listed including melting ice at a urinal, belching sentences and eating so much at a buffet that I pooped and came back for more because it was probably the best meal I was going to have in quite some time.
Those items take me back to a time when I could get away with not doing the dishes for a week. Not because I didn't want to do them (I really didn't want to do them) but because why in the hell would I need to wash 2 plates, a bowl and three glasses? There's a whole cupboard of those very items left and they're clean. But if I open the fridge and it's looking empty it's off to the liquor store because it's better to be safe than sorry - especially when it's 10:05 PM on a Saturday night and your only options are to drive to Iowa way too early on Sunday morning or head to an off-sale shop and pick up some overpriced 3.2 beer that would make most people consider brewing their own bathtub gin.
Those are the decisions that plague the modern male.
Even more decisions await about busying your weekend. A few ideas, in photo form, live at MinnPics.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
How to know when you've "made it"
There have been a few times in the past when I've contemplated on the meaning of "it" and exactly what "it" is. Usually I rely on some lyrics from an old tune by "Faith No More". This (almost) isn't one of those times.
Earlier this afternoon, as I snugged my earbuds into my ears (obviously, where else do you think I'd put them? -- wait, don't answer that.) I heard my noontime friend Dan Cole mentioning a familiar name. (No, it wasn't mine) It was the name of a writer whose website I frequent. It was none other than Joe Peacock (aka Joe The Peacock). The attention he was getting during this noon hour was due to a blog post of his related to "The Etymology of Human Male Non-Verbal Communications (or, Why Men Fist-Bump)". I immediately read Joe's post in its entirety for two reasons. (Incidentally, being mentioned on 50,000 watts of AM radio on the opposite end of the country is knowing someone has made it. So if you were waiting for the gist of the story, you found it. If you want to know more, read on.)
The first reason I read it was because I am always curious what Joe Peacock has to say as his writing here is some of the best I've ever read when it comes to short stories. The second reason for me instant curiosity is that I'm vehemently opposed to fist bumping. It's an abnoxious rite of being a man that I have stood by and only slipped up on one time and the empty bottle of Jack Daniels will tell you exactly why I slipped up. Obviously I was not alone in my curiosity judging by the number of comments Mr. Peacock's post received.
Am I alone in the readership here in this little slice of heaven in hating the fist bump? Hopefully, dear fist bumpers of the world, I have made you rethink this childish man tradition. Go do something more productive like farting in your buddy's face like us mature guys do.
Earlier this afternoon, as I snugged my earbuds into my ears (obviously, where else do you think I'd put them? -- wait, don't answer that.) I heard my noontime friend Dan Cole mentioning a familiar name. (No, it wasn't mine) It was the name of a writer whose website I frequent. It was none other than Joe Peacock (aka Joe The Peacock). The attention he was getting during this noon hour was due to a blog post of his related to "The Etymology of Human Male Non-Verbal Communications (or, Why Men Fist-Bump)". I immediately read Joe's post in its entirety for two reasons. (Incidentally, being mentioned on 50,000 watts of AM radio on the opposite end of the country is knowing someone has made it. So if you were waiting for the gist of the story, you found it. If you want to know more, read on.)
The first reason I read it was because I am always curious what Joe Peacock has to say as his writing here is some of the best I've ever read when it comes to short stories. The second reason for me instant curiosity is that I'm vehemently opposed to fist bumping. It's an abnoxious rite of being a man that I have stood by and only slipped up on one time and the empty bottle of Jack Daniels will tell you exactly why I slipped up. Obviously I was not alone in my curiosity judging by the number of comments Mr. Peacock's post received.
Am I alone in the readership here in this little slice of heaven in hating the fist bump? Hopefully, dear fist bumpers of the world, I have made you rethink this childish man tradition. Go do something more productive like farting in your buddy's face like us mature guys do.
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