It’s a Mystery

Personal Bits

I go to the barber last week and he digs around inside my ear with a straight razor…

…and today, 5 days later, I am able to pull out inch long hairs from my listening hole.

7 thoughts on “It’s a Mystery”

  2. anyez

    It’s the chin hairs, bristly white stalks of pending crone-hood, that mark my mortality with every little tweeze…(I’m a grrl not an ape! I yell to my image in the mirror)

  3. madamerouge

    During one particularly horrifying haircut–I think you know where–I had a stylist with, shall we say, a bit of a shaving fetish.

    I’m used to–and expect–the trimming/shaving of errant hairs on the neck. Did I miss an offending eyebrow hair? By all means, give it a snip.

    But when I’m sitting in a barber chair at Church & Wellesley in broad daylight with a shaving cream perimeter around my eyebrows, the stylist pulling the neck of my t-shirt out so he can get further down my back, and I’m staring at a pink troll doll on the counter… get me out of there.

  4. Furface

    Mid-life mutant ninja hair growth!! Get used to it – every freakin’ where but the top of the head – go figure.

    I love the nipple hairs that not only turn grey and course but seem to grow an inch or two over night.

  7. anyez

    That’s good luck in some cultures. Maybe you have a hairball from Mr. GH lodged in your brain.

    How is that kool kat, anyways?

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