Chicks Dig Guys With Excessive Shoulder Hair...

Don't we look just like big teddy bears?! Huh?

Okay, those who know me know that that is not myself pictured here.
It's my brother.

But I do want to call attention to what seems to be a growing amount of body hair that has been slowly but deliberately carpeting my body.

When the whole phenomenon of chest and stomach hair began, I will confess, I was quite proud. It seemed manly. And after only one experiment in shaving it off (it's aerodynamic, baby!) I learned to stop that behavior, because the hair seemed to grow back with a vengence. Feeling spited, it called on its compatriots to take up arms in neighboring folicles, weaving a tight forest of impenetrable man hair, wrapping my torso in a coarse mane.

But that was a while ago. Shouldn't the vengence have stopped by now?

Showering the other day I realized my arms have begun to look a little like hairy hams. (Muscular hams, of course.)
This is not peach fuzz. Oh no. Peach fuzz I can handle. These are the thick black hairs that you find shooting up where you body feels the need to cover itself.

I begin to worry.

A little hair was fine. It was great to shed my clothes Tarzn-style and run around, loins clad in buckskin, knowing the tufts of fine Scandinavian-bred body hair glinted in the sunlight and rippled in the wind like the prairie grass of the serengetti.

But now...

Now it might seem more as though I were some strange half-man half-mutant monkey who's diabolical creators didn't have the decency to finish their monster, leaving him to roam the lands with his soft pink flesh only partially covered in a bewildering assortment of body hair.

I'm not wishing for more. In fact, I wish for less.
I guess I show concern for where this might stop. I am interested in knowing if I will have "chest hair" sprouting from my collar, climbing up my neck like some vine intent on choking the life from me.

Will I succumb to the male wonder of "shoulder hair"? This would undoubtedly make summer-time activities more of a challenge, as most people don't really want to go down the waterslide after the "hairy guy." The bottom of the pool looks like the shower after my sisters have used it.

Still, for now, I suppose it doesn't matter. I'm the only one who stands in front of the mirror and wonders if this hair is normal. Perhaps I'll meet a woman who will attack me with a razor and do away with all unwanted man fur. I'd like to know how we handle the impending reprisal, but I suppose we'll cross that T when we come to it...

For now...my belly button lint and hair are getting tangled, and it's pinching me.

T.