Leg hair: It’s so lonely and cold down here. Send reinforcements. Please. The younglings cannot withstand the harsh conditions. How do you expect us to grow when you neglect us like this? We’re so thin and fragile, almost nonexistent. I hear those people asking if you shave us. Seriously, some of us are going crazy, questioning our purpose in life. Some of us are going below the surface as ingrowns. Biceps: We’re getting a little too big. Some women might not be able to handle us. I’m sure you’ve noticed lately, but we’re starting to rip through those GAP Kids t-shirts that you love wearing. Maybe we should ease up on the ten-pound weights that you curl occasionally. Perhaps going back down to five pounds would help. We just don’t want to make others feel inadequate around us. Let’s just say the gun show is still selling tickets and they’re going like hotcakes. Third eye: Everything is as usual, master. I am keeping a close watch over the regular proceedings. There is no worthy activity to report. No one suspects a thing. I am always watching them, but they are none the wiser. I don’t think they will ever find us out. Heart: Take it down a notch with all of your stupid emotional struggles. I’m kind of busy pumping blood here. I know this might be a little hard to understand, but I’m kind of a big deal around here. Basically, I run the freakin’ show. Sure, a little heartache can be good for building strength every now and then, but I have enough problems already without having to deal with your stupid girl troubles. Remember last year? When that ugly hag broke me and left you single? What the heck was that all about? Try not to let that happen again, okay? And as much as you love the double quarter-pounder with cheese, I’m afraid this little indulgence of yours has to stop. I’m feeling the pain and I know you feel it, too. I think it’s time for a McIntervention. Acne: THE ACID!!! HOW IT BURNS!!! Tail: Why don’t you ever let me out? Seriously, man. It’s so suffocating down here. Can’t you just cut like a hole through the bottom of your pants or something? Give me a little breathing room. I promise I won’t wag too much. Moles: Yo, what’s up, bro? Not much, eh? Yeah, same here. We’ve just been chillin’ out, as usual. We gotta hand it to you, bro. You really treat your moles well. Oh, and just a heads up: you might want to keep an eye on some of us. Word on the street is that one of us is manifesting into malignant melanoma. A cancerous tumor in our midst! Right here, in the little tight-knit community we’ve struggled so many years to put together! Heck, something like that would totally ruin our reputation. You know, it’d really tarnish what we moles are all about.
