Not by the hairs of my chesty-chest-chest

Listening to Edith Piaf, Comme moi. Yeah, I guess no one's surprised that I like boys.

My days as the Polish Hairless are at an end. Well, that's not really accurate, as I've had a little chin sumpin-sumpin for a while. But this evening, after brushing my teeth, I noticed some seriously unsightly haar doing it's thing above and around my areole.

I had to act.

It hurts, plucking your chest. It's not like the eyebrows, where one pluck will be rewarded with 5-6 hairs. Chest plucking is a tedious, arduous exericse. But a colorful one. Chest hairs range in color and tone from February Morning to Espresso Oscuro and everything in between. A particularly painful Beyoncé-colored one was plucked and lo! there was a mole I hadn't yet noticed. Which caused me pause... if I never noticed this mole, this means this hair must have been here for a long time, preventing me from seeing the mole [aka beauty mark]. And sober, clean men removed their shirts and allowed me to do the same. BODY HAIR IS NOT ATTRACTIVE, AND I'VE HAD IT FOR AN INDEFINITE AMOUNT OF TIME! I feel cheated. Had I known that lil' Hairy had been there, I woulda plucked him away with an unbelievable swiftness. But alack and alas, 'twas there all the time--as if saying to me, "you are a phony twink. my friends and i will make short order of your frivolous youth. welcome to bear country." I plucked the bastard away, and I won't deny that I took a small amount of time to admire his remains before getting rid of him.

This war is far from over. They will return. But my tweezers are prepared to launch the biggest shock and awe campaign ever seen by a human body.

Oh well. All gone! I am once again as smooth as silk and can, at a moment's notice, be ready for a shirtless white party at Bullwinkle's. [The local deviant bar]. Today was a Saturday. I'm thinking that most of my future posts won't be this reflective, once I have actual events to report.

Music now is Edith Piaf, La vie en rose. She's like Judy Garland, only French. Well fuck, say I. Why just be gay when you can be pretentious and gay?