Sexy

Queer Eye for the Straight Guy told me long ago that I should trim my body hair. And I believed them. They never mentioned the hour-and-a-half time commitment, though. Man, I'm hairy. It takes forever, and I hate it. But when the boy becomes engrossed in pulling on the chest hair poking over the top of my shirt collar, it's time. Bonus fun: I never feel quite so gigantic as when I'm measuring my entire surface area by a two-inch swath.