Ro-Manscaping

As I’ve begun to exercise out of the pool as well as in (and I have the relative anonymity of the faceless Internet) I’ve notice a bit of chafing in all the wrong places.

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Once I made my mind up to take action I had to stop and consider my alternatives.

One does not just simply attack their “area” with a pair of scissors and some electrically charged shears if one would prefer “action” ever, ever again.

I’m sure that with some shears I could effectively yet accidentally neuter myself but missing the berries from the twigs & berries combo is definitely not what I’m shooting for.

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So, with trepidation in my heart, I delicately proceeded to trim the nethers in order to avoid the man scourge known as Monkey Butt and the occasional Crotch Rot (seriously, the next time you see a man waddling around like he’s wearing a cactus between his person and his undies you’ll understand what I’m talking about.)

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Having visions of my bits looking like they should belong in an Obsession for Men ad I happily trimmed away.

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I’m fairly sure that if my significant other walked in at the time it would have seemed slightly awkward with me hunched over my goods, paying waaaaaaay too much attention to the cash & prizes.

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When I finished, I took a look on the mirror expecting to see something like a 1920’s finger wave hairdo in my midsection but what I saw was something vastly different.

I looked like I had given myself instant mange.

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Bits of me were completely bare while others looked like they’d been in a bar fight.

So now I’ve had to take it all away and  I’m bare as a newborn.

Things are a bit itchy.

If you see me on the street furiously scratching my junk, please, please…

Look away.

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