“A girl told me today that I would be a lot prettier if I got my eyebrows threaded. So I told her she’d be a lot prettier if she got surgery to turn her fivehead into a forehead!!”
File that one under the “swing and a miss” column of my sick burn top hits listicle, but biting wit notwithstanding, my mother was unperturbed.
“Maybe you should start threading your eyebrows,” she conceded, staring fervently at the thicket perched above my nose like it was an unsolvable calculus problem.
I was not expecting that response. I was nine.
God has cursed me with fur. Fully dressed, I look pretty good in a skinny indie-kid way, but as soon as clothes start coming off, I might as well be draped in a shag carpet, and I am REALLY self-conscious about it. I'm sure the look works for muscle-bound lumberjacks, but I'm built like a stick insect. I wouldn't mind putting extra effort into grooming, but where do I start? Could you, like, rank bodyparts in order of how horrible they look covered in fur? Or should I just do an all-over trim so it doesn't get too long anywhere?
Firstly (furstly? ugh), God has not cursed [...]