Growing Pains

I have excellent news–but first a bit of back story so my excellent news appears to make more sense (although whether it actually does is up in the air).

Ever since I was 12 or 13–I have terrible memory when it comes to important things–I’ve had a small amount of chest hair. Like, just a teeny tiny tuft on my lower stomach in the shape of an upside down “v”, and recently I noticed that it comes all the way up my belly button, which is excellent because it furthers me in my lifelong goal of becoming a male stripper or perhaps a fireman.

Why, you ask, was it necessary that you tell me about  your chest hair, you dummkopf?! That was the most disturbing thing I heard all week and I subscribe to not one but six–yes, six–journals on the history of boogers throughout the ages!

And I answer you: It wasn’t really necessary, but it sure was funny.

~~La Stranezza, telling inappropriate anecdotes since April 2011. Speaking of which, I never celebrated the fact that I’ve had this blog for over a year…H’m…I ought to do that eventually. However, due to the fact that dingoes ate my babies and I’m watching Tintin, you’ll just have to wait until I forget again.

The End.

P.S. I wonder if Tintin has chest hair. Not the Jamie Bell Tintin–he’s a slang term for genitals, you understand–but the Colin O’Meara Tintin. That Tintin is the bomb. He’s the Chuck Norris of Tintins. He makes Speedy Gonzales look like Regular Gonzales. Word.


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