There are so many things I don't understand about my own body. Let me just start at the top and I'll work my way down.
At one time I had a full head of hair. It used to be up there, protecting my brain, keeping it all warm, safe, and snuggly, and then, out of the clear blue sky, it started falling out! When I'd wake up in the morning, and look at my pillow, there'd be so much of my hair there that my knees would start to buckle. That doesn't make sense to me. The guy down the block still has his hair. Why isn't mine up there giving me shade and helping deflect flying objects? What, do I have to walk around wearing a hard hat while he gets to lie all day in his hammock without even any sunscreen? Is that fair?
And what's the deal with my eyebrows? I mean, I understand I have eyebrows and eyelashes for a reason. They're there to protect my eyes, and that makes a lot of sense. Eyes are important, I get that. But when I was younger I had normal eyebrows, and now I have these hairy things that stick out an inch and a half if I don't slash them back with a machete every other day. I'm beginning to think they have plans to take over the rest of my face in the middle of the night.
Speaking of hair, I can't, for the life of me, understand the purpose of nose hair. It doesn't keep any important part of my anatomy warm that I can tell. There aren't many women that find them attractive, except for when the circus is in town. They just hang out of the end of my nose, all black and shiny, working at becoming a third eyebrow. I yank those bastards out and leave them in the sink. Screw 'em.
And here's another thing that doesn't make any sense to me. Can someone please explain why I've got a single black hair growing straight up from the top of my right ear? My left ear doesn't have one. Just that one hair on my right, popping up over night, probably worried that I might notice it and do something rash. Yep, you guessed it, I yank it out and throw it in the sink. Let someone else try to figure out what part of me it came from. Screw 'em.
And then there's my nipples. I suppose there's always a chance that in a distant galaxy, radiation from an exploding super nova will one day alter my chromosomes and change me into a woman, but I'm not going to start buying a new wardrobe while I'm waiting. I'm sorry, I just don't think lactation is in my immediate future. Are they simply ornamental then? If I don't need 'em, why do I have to have 'em? Don't get me wrong, I love looking at nipples, just not the ones that are on me.
A bit further south is another perplexing piece of my body; my belly button. This is the little guy that resulted from when my umbilical chord was tied off shortly after my birth. For some reason, after all these years, it has refused to do the sensible thing and go away. It just sits there, worrying me. To my way of thinking, anything that was tied once can always come untied. I don't need that kind of stress. "Oops, I'm sorry ma'am, my large intestine seems to have fallen out again. Could you lift your foot for a second? I'll just put that right back in. Be done in a jiffy." No thank you. Seriously, what were they thinking?
Don't worry, I'll skip right past my nether regions. They used to confuse me quite a bit, but I try not to think about them anymore. So that leaves my toes. Sure, plenty cute on a little baby, but what's their purpose on a man my age? Even if I could learn to play gin rummy with them, they'd still spend almost all of their time hiding inside my shoes. And not enjoying it very much either. But what other options do I have? I could have them removed, I suppose. Then there'd be one less part of me that I'd need to keep clean, but then none of my shoes would fit right. Its a wonder I'm able to sleep at night. Maybe I should go clean out the sink.
Nah, screw 'em.