Sunday, January 3, 2010

Real Men

Real Men

Smooth as a baby’s buns - but is that the way they’re meant to be?

The blood dripped from my body and a soggy mess accumulated in the bathtub which was rapidly acquiring the appearance of a butcher’s shop. It was a greater emotional wrench than losing my appendix, tonsils or adenoids – all of which had been removed by surgery years ago. After all, it had been part of my body since puberty and now was to be consigned to the dark sewers of the city. All in the name of “coolness”, fashion and peer pressure, despite weak attempts at more rational explanations by way of massage, aerodynamics and the healing of wounds.

But I had done it. Even after having secretly mocked those of my friends who preceded me. Now, once the blood has dried and the gashes in my flesh have begun to heal. I revel in the soft smooth skin and intimidating definition of the huge muscles. No longer are these delights the closed domains of women. Real men shave their legs.

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