I just knew it was over with one of my friends when I was sitting next to her and I saw a giant black hair sticking out of her face. I just couldn’t take my eyes off of it, the whole time we talked.
“Hey, Jerkface,” I said to myself. “You have two choices here: you can ignore that big black hair and hope she notices it later, or you can tell her out of the kindness of being a friend.”
I did neither. Stare, stare, stare. I had another drink. We talked for another hour. We could talk for hours without deriving much enjoyment out of it. I had never almost peed myself from laughing while talking to her, which is how I judge most of my friendships.
At one point, when I was really sliding down into the old martini glass, I started to really root for the hair. Her perfect skin…her delicate features…wouldn’t it be fabulous to think of her battling away at an encroaching man-beard every day?
Then the hair came dislodged. It was just a hair that had stuck to her face in the direction of her natural hair growth. I could see it still, now stuck to her neck. I was crushingly disappointed.
I didn’t call her again after that.
To pee or to almost pee is Truly the mark of a great friendship. As you get older, life becomes to short not to want to hang with people who make you laugh.
I find it’s why I come by here now and again!
Madame Castafiore! It’s been years!
On Christmas holiday, Pop had a nosehair poking out of one of his nostrils – like, impossible to miss. I went “Gawd, Pop, you gotta trim that thing, c’mon”. Pop said oh! okay except that next day it was still there. “Pop, fer Chrissakes, nosehair! D’you think Mom likes looking at it?” Pop: oh! right.
By the time I was set to leave three days after that, Pop’s nosehair was still inquisitively poking out. By this point, however, Mom had one too.
Ha!
go manbeard!
you are an evil girl.
and we love you for it.
I love you, Asshole!
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