Tuesday, March 08, 2005
More E Comedy: Body Hair Issues!
I’ve always felt like I had a weird name. First name Patrick, last name Angello – Patrick is very Irish while Angello is very Italian. So it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to realize that I’m half Irish and half Italian. Fortunately, the Italian half is from the waist down, if ya know what I mean. I think the ladies do! Yep, that means I have hair on my ass, but not on my back.
Thank God I’m not half Greek and half Italian – then I’d pretty much just be a wookie.
Ever pat a guy on the back that has back hair and you’re not ready for it, and you get that spongie feel under his shirt? Then you try to act natural about it?
Actually, having hair on your ass isn’t so bad, once you get beyond the swamp ass issues. In fact, I think the hair on my ass actually helped me win my wife over. Let me explain.
When Katy and I first started dating, this whiter than white, cracker, toe-headed, fair-skinned woman had a Dodge Colt with an ebonic vanity plate that read: I B K T. Yo, she be Katy! In fact, I learned that Katy would tag her CD’s and other possessions with just the letters “KT” instead of writing her entire name out. I didn’t think the letters “A” and “Y” were that difficult to add, but hey – it was her little thing.
One day, right when we started seeing each other, KT called me when she was about to get off of work. She had a bad day and wanted to come over to visit me. I, like most eligible 28-year-old bachelors, lived at home with my parents. So I told her to swing on over and I’d cheer her up.
When KT got to the house, my dad showed her to the basement – my pad! She came downstairs and I gave her a hug and a kiss and let her vent for a few minutes. Then I told her I had a surprise for her. Then I turned around and mooned her. Shaved into the hair on my ass was the letter “K” on my left cheek, and the letter “T” on my right.
I’m pretty sure it was at this point that she thought, “Oh my GOD – I should marry this man!” But when it came out, it sounded like, “Oh my GOD – how did you do that?”
To which of course I replied, “I didn’t – my mother did it for me!”
***
A friend of mine called me the other day and said, “I shaved.”
I replied, “Congratulations and welcome to manhood – I shave my face every day.”
He said, “No. I mean down there. It’s really cool – I feel like a porn star!”
I started to think about this, and there is no way I could do that! I mean, I have hair on my arms, my chest, and my legs…if I were to shave THAT area it would just look weird!
…And it does!
When I finished, I noticed a few stray hairs still hanging out down there. As I examined a little closer, I saw they were attached to the shaft! Now, I used the butt-end of an electric razor to start, but there was still no way in hell anything sharp was going directly on my guy. So I (plink) plucked one out with my fingers.
Have you ever pulled out a nose hair? You know how you get all teary eyed and you go on a 20-minute sneezing fit? Well, that’s what happened – DOWN THERE!
My guy was jumping all over the place, making strange sounds; something was coming out of him! I was freaking out, which made him more scared! Now we’re both screaming and running in circles in the bathroom. I finally started to calm down and I turned into the dad whose son just fell off his bike.
“It’s OK, it’s OK. Settle down, come on – relax. That’s it. Who’s a tough guy, huh? Who’s my tough little man? You’re OK – just relax. I need you to be tough now, OK? That’s it – be strong, be tough! Are you my tough guy? Are you? OK, great – cuz we have about 11 more to go…”
Thank God I’m not half Greek and half Italian – then I’d pretty much just be a wookie.
Ever pat a guy on the back that has back hair and you’re not ready for it, and you get that spongie feel under his shirt? Then you try to act natural about it?
Actually, having hair on your ass isn’t so bad, once you get beyond the swamp ass issues. In fact, I think the hair on my ass actually helped me win my wife over. Let me explain.
When Katy and I first started dating, this whiter than white, cracker, toe-headed, fair-skinned woman had a Dodge Colt with an ebonic vanity plate that read: I B K T. Yo, she be Katy! In fact, I learned that Katy would tag her CD’s and other possessions with just the letters “KT” instead of writing her entire name out. I didn’t think the letters “A” and “Y” were that difficult to add, but hey – it was her little thing.
One day, right when we started seeing each other, KT called me when she was about to get off of work. She had a bad day and wanted to come over to visit me. I, like most eligible 28-year-old bachelors, lived at home with my parents. So I told her to swing on over and I’d cheer her up.
When KT got to the house, my dad showed her to the basement – my pad! She came downstairs and I gave her a hug and a kiss and let her vent for a few minutes. Then I told her I had a surprise for her. Then I turned around and mooned her. Shaved into the hair on my ass was the letter “K” on my left cheek, and the letter “T” on my right.
I’m pretty sure it was at this point that she thought, “Oh my GOD – I should marry this man!” But when it came out, it sounded like, “Oh my GOD – how did you do that?”
To which of course I replied, “I didn’t – my mother did it for me!”
***
A friend of mine called me the other day and said, “I shaved.”
I replied, “Congratulations and welcome to manhood – I shave my face every day.”
He said, “No. I mean down there. It’s really cool – I feel like a porn star!”
I started to think about this, and there is no way I could do that! I mean, I have hair on my arms, my chest, and my legs…if I were to shave THAT area it would just look weird!
…And it does!
When I finished, I noticed a few stray hairs still hanging out down there. As I examined a little closer, I saw they were attached to the shaft! Now, I used the butt-end of an electric razor to start, but there was still no way in hell anything sharp was going directly on my guy. So I (plink) plucked one out with my fingers.
Have you ever pulled out a nose hair? You know how you get all teary eyed and you go on a 20-minute sneezing fit? Well, that’s what happened – DOWN THERE!
My guy was jumping all over the place, making strange sounds; something was coming out of him! I was freaking out, which made him more scared! Now we’re both screaming and running in circles in the bathroom. I finally started to calm down and I turned into the dad whose son just fell off his bike.
“It’s OK, it’s OK. Settle down, come on – relax. That’s it. Who’s a tough guy, huh? Who’s my tough little man? You’re OK – just relax. I need you to be tough now, OK? That’s it – be strong, be tough! Are you my tough guy? Are you? OK, great – cuz we have about 11 more to go…”
posted by Pat Angello, 7:05 PM
6 Buffaloes were bitter enough to post comments:
I love it!
It's got that classic Catskills kinda vibe -- Henny Youngman with body hair. If I could imagine you smoking a cigarette and drinking a martini, I'd put you in a Hudson Valley hotel lounge, wearing a slightly worn (but ever-so-fashionable) tuxedo, slightly slurring this material with a jaded, world-weary delivery. Then I'd imagine you Jewish, wearing only Speedos and a yamulke, lounging poolside in a Hockney painting, with my sillhouette shaved into your...
...but that's another vision altogether. Let's pretend you didn't read that.
It's got that classic Catskills kinda vibe -- Henny Youngman with body hair. If I could imagine you smoking a cigarette and drinking a martini, I'd put you in a Hudson Valley hotel lounge, wearing a slightly worn (but ever-so-fashionable) tuxedo, slightly slurring this material with a jaded, world-weary delivery. Then I'd imagine you Jewish, wearing only Speedos and a yamulke, lounging poolside in a Hockney painting, with my sillhouette shaved into your...
...but that's another vision altogether. Let's pretend you didn't read that.
Sometimes the truth is funny! Is anyone wondering who called me to tell me he shaved? Do I need to give a hint?
Schmidt, I so didn't need to read that. Now I know how I made everyone else feel! Wow!
My god. Oh... my... god.
Schmidt dropped by the Buffalo! And made a comment! Un-fucking-believable!
(btw, Mark, you can curse all you want on mine, but kiddies allegedly read Patrick's blog, so if you decide to post there, too... censor it as appropriate.)
Yah, well I shave my package now and again, when the weather warms up and I'm feeling particularly nappy. Remember, unlike our Italian-Irish friend, I have almost ZERO body hair, save for this dirty blond SOS pad keeping things cushioned and warm down there. I do it much the way you described, though I try to get the bulk of it before I get into the tub with the sideburn attachment of my razor. And I usually do it just a bit drunk.
Which, as you can imagine, results in several shockingly bleedy nicks here and there. The odd thing is, they don't hurt -- just bleed a lot. I think it's the warm water combined with the vital-organ bloodflow. Once I get outta the tub, the nicks stop bleeding altogether and disappear entirely within about 5 minutes, like a cheesy visual effect on SciFi. I am healed! And completely bald! And it feels SO RIGHT!
If I weren't so lazy, I'd keep it that way all the time. As it is, I only do it once or twice a year.
(Now my mother and mother-in-law (who drop by here from time to time) will read this and wonder if I'm tellin the truth or makin' it up. And only my wife will know for sure.)
From now on, you can just call me "Slick."
Love,
"Slick"
Schmidt dropped by the Buffalo! And made a comment! Un-fucking-believable!
(btw, Mark, you can curse all you want on mine, but kiddies allegedly read Patrick's blog, so if you decide to post there, too... censor it as appropriate.)
Yah, well I shave my package now and again, when the weather warms up and I'm feeling particularly nappy. Remember, unlike our Italian-Irish friend, I have almost ZERO body hair, save for this dirty blond SOS pad keeping things cushioned and warm down there. I do it much the way you described, though I try to get the bulk of it before I get into the tub with the sideburn attachment of my razor. And I usually do it just a bit drunk.
Which, as you can imagine, results in several shockingly bleedy nicks here and there. The odd thing is, they don't hurt -- just bleed a lot. I think it's the warm water combined with the vital-organ bloodflow. Once I get outta the tub, the nicks stop bleeding altogether and disappear entirely within about 5 minutes, like a cheesy visual effect on SciFi. I am healed! And completely bald! And it feels SO RIGHT!
If I weren't so lazy, I'd keep it that way all the time. As it is, I only do it once or twice a year.
(Now my mother and mother-in-law (who drop by here from time to time) will read this and wonder if I'm tellin the truth or makin' it up. And only my wife will know for sure.)
From now on, you can just call me "Slick."
Love,
"Slick"
Speaking of metrosexual, I recall the days when Purdy carried a man-purse. I should have known...
Patrick, I've got a man-purse for ya. Right here, between my legs. And it's completely hair-free.
Soden, I thin the reason you never thought to trim your shrubbies is simple: there ain't nothing down there that would benefit from looking a bit, you know, bigger. Like my man-purse.
Love,
"Slick"
Soden, I thin the reason you never thought to trim your shrubbies is simple: there ain't nothing down there that would benefit from looking a bit, you know, bigger. Like my man-purse.
Love,
"Slick"