Monday, September 28, 2009

I Am An Aging Baboon...

I am sitting on my bed in my red underwear. Yes, I wear red underwear. Actually, I have nothing but color underwear. Until now, I have never really thought about how strange that is. I would guess most men wear white underwear. It's less flamboyant. It's not something guys talk about over beers or on the Internet for that matter.

I've been wearing color underwear since I was about 12. I remember specifically my Mom would buy me tubes full of color briefs at the Flea Market. Some of the tubes contained solid colors and some contained striped patterns. Green, Blue, Red, Yellow, White with Teal Stripes, Teal with Black Stripes. Like a cotton rainbow in my pants, it was liberating. Still is... When you're a 13 year old kid going through puberty, it's tough to express yourself outwardly. Maybe my mother recognized this and thought self expression via my underwear was a safe and healthy outlet. I guess the Guitar lessons weren't enough.

So anyway, I'm sitting in bed in my red underwear and I'm feeling and looking quite bloated. I don't have a shirt on or anything else for that matter. I just got done scarfing down about a pound of Brisket and some Chicken Wings. Lately I've noticed that my teeth haven't been as white as they used to be, so tonight I decided to try Crest Whitestrips. I can't talk without drooling on myself. I haven't shaved my shoulders or trimmed my chest hair in a while, so my torso is starting to resemble a Cardigan Sweater. I'm wearing my glasses. My angelic wife just removed a piece of glass from the bottom of my right foot with a pin. I whined like a little bitch the entire time. Earlier in the day, my almost three year old daughter, asked me to fart on her head, so I did...

Recently my barber has started trimming my ears, eyebrows and nose hair at the end of my haircuts. Every time I look at a picture of myself in a pool, I see a bald spot on the back of my head. I have a freckle on my face that is probably not a freckle. I think they call it an age spot. I still like to wear my black rock concert tees but I think it creeps the neighborhood kids out when I drop my daughter off at school. If I don't floss, my breath smells and every few months, I notice some sort of weird, random growth on my body. Every so often, I pluck out a gray chest hair.

I work out six times a week and I still gain two pounds for every pound of food I consume. My wife used to tell me that I had a great ass. Now, not so much. I'm always afraid that I smell. I used to look in the mirror quite often, when I was younger. Always checking out my hair or trying to catch a glimpse of a rippling triceps. Now I usually try to avoid my reflection at all costs. I have to be honest, it's really starting to depress me.

I don't feel so pretty these days. I feel like I'm getting old. I hope my wife isn't disgusted with me.

I am an aging Baboon. Slowly becoming Out-Numbered by gray chest hairs.