Thursday, November 17, 2011

How is everyone else doing with No Shave November?

Movember?  Frovember?  Novembeard?

I'm still going strong.  Although it hasn't been that much of a challenge considering I also participated in Opt Out Of Shaving October and Save the Razor September (two months I clearly did not just invent).

This is currently what I look like naked:

Yes, my hair has indeed matted into a utility belt.

This is Joe's face every time he sees me:

He's all "WHY YOU NO SHAVE, RADY?!" (that was probably slightly racist, sorry).

On a semi-related note, I know I'm currently hairy like a man, but I'm tired of being treated like one.  The guys at work are constantly talking guy in front of me like there's no chance I would be offended or at least grossed out by them.  This one old perv likes to tell stories complete with demonstrations of his sexcapades.  One time he demonstrated how a girl peed on him like he was a train track.  It was... interesting.

I'm forever getting the shoulder pat at work too.  Not a gentle "Hi sweetie" hand resting on my shoulder, but the burly "HEY FELLA" knock-you-over almost-punch.  I'm like a baseball glove away from it being acceptable to pat my ass "good job" every time I correctly lift something heavy.

Come to think of it, it's probably not so much that I'm awesome enough to be "one of the guys", it's probably just that people will tell me literally anything.  Once my neighbor told me she yelled at the L&D nurse that her dad was staying in the room while she gave birth because "This ain't the first time he's seen this pussy and it ain't gonna be the last time" (um, what?).  When I worked at the gas station, an elderly man told me he puts a pillow under his lady friend's tush to help with, erm, angles.  Then there was the time a woman told me she sweat so bad her pad lost its stickiness.  And the time my boss told me about his adventures in morningwood.

Ok, wow.  I have no idea where I was going with any of that, but I think I'm going to just give up now rather than try to recover some sort of normal blog post (that's my normal protocol).

Plus, Joe has his hand in his mouth right now and just asked me, "Can you move your teeth?"  I may have to go locate a long string and a doorknob.  Then maybe I'll paint my nails or some girly shit.  (I doubt it).

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