I am a f***ing hairy man. To decide to trim, shave, vinegarise or rubber would leave me jobbed up for about 6 hours a day. I mostly stop at the face.
I know i have mentioned it before, but if i met an animalistic woman with poor eyesight, that had erect nipples whenever her hands ruffle their way through ungermed forests, then i would ask her to follow, fingers alone, the line of hair that can be taken from my scalp to feet and back up again on the body's reverse.
To sum up, i am hirsute and alone, craving the impossible woman.