Music of the Night

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I hate shaving in the morning, or as I call it; minor surgery under bad light, and poor cognitive skills. But more than that (I know you shouldn’t start a sentence with ‘but’, but that’s just another reason why I’m a rebel) I hate the defamation of male ideology, by removing a part of us that makes us who we are for the sake of societal norms, but what can I say; I’m a Manist. (I guess that’s not a real word as spell checker is having a tantrum.)

I don’t actually care about that, I just don’t want to shave around my beauty mark. Ok, I’ve never actually called my mole a beauty mark before, well, just once, and the next thing I know the bourgeoisie chasing me with pitch forks and torches.

The reason I hate it is that every time I nick it with my razor I have to wear a very attractive sheet of toilet paper to stop the anemic blood flow. So this, combined with the reappearance of my arch-nemesis ‘acne’ (I hate halloween candy) makes for the perfect time to make a good impression. The worst is that it’s all on my right side so, I’m totally phantom of the opera’ing it right now.

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Yeah, so in passing I may or may not have mentioned that I do or do not blog to a girl today. It was so benign and innocent, but only now am I realizing the slight repercussions of having a few years of your life of daily thoughts on record for the world of women to analyze.

In a scurry to see if I had written anything incriminating I realized that I have over 4 years of my life on record, the hay day of the blog in ‘06′ some of the depressingly funny posts of ‘07′. The full of hope posts of ‘04′ and the weird phase of ‘05′.

This can only go two ways, and I fear neither.

This entry was posted on Monday, November 10th, 2008 at 3:29 amand is filed under . You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

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