This is the third.
In these past few days, I’ve divulged to you the fact that my chest now resembles portions of the Mojave Desert.
Hold on…hold on…
That tumbleweed just smiled up at me.
I’m guessing it’s not a tumbleweed.
Never, ever, trust a hooker who just gives it away for free.
Fully shaved and looking like just like Fabio except nothing remotely like Fabio, I came to work.
Now..I share a cube with my friend, Kristin.
This allows me to hear all of Kristin’s fun-filled stories like:
You know…I’m just thinking out loud here, but…
I really need to move to a different fucking cube.
Oh..yeah…the chest shaving story.
So, naturally, I come to work the next day after shaving my chest…
…and decide to tell Kristin.
Now, instead of telling you what happened, I have decided to create…
(wait for it)
MY FIRST EVER MENTAL POO COMIC STRIP!!
Why am I the only one clapping?
Here is how the simple conversation went:
(click to enlarge…that’s what she said)
She was concerned that my chest stubble would be uncomfortable when I had sex.
Once I stopped laughing, this prompted me to ask:
1) Do you even KNOW me?
2) What the fuck kind of sex are YOU having where your husband’s chest is rubbing all over you?
3) Wait…is that how I’m SUPPOSED to be having sex?! Rubbing my chest all over my wife’s nether region?! No wonder I suck at it.
I don’t remember that in Sex Ed, but whatever.
I remember ‘put your back into it, boy!’ but that was more of my uncle’s suggestion.
Perhaps I’ve said too much.
But that’s the last you’ll hear – at least for now – about my newly bare chest.
Unless this tumbleweed has something to say.
Seriously…I think I just heard it say, “hola.”
Free hooker stuff…fucking scam.