The length of my leg hair is a constant reminder of how long it's been since I even thought I had a chance of getting laid.
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Cause and effect, really
Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal calls this an "exigology": A state whose converse is its own explanation.
Shave or before they start calling you "tarantula."
Four for you Glen Coco , you go Glen Coco
I have hairy legs too! Let's fuck to celebrate?
God dammit. That should've been a !.