I enjoyed confessing my sins last time, but I can think of plenty more, and so I’m back to share my horrible deeds! Check out the first installment at this link.
Gotta Get that Pump
I imagine a lot of guys into weight lifting, however big, will find comfort in knowing that they are not the only ones who go quickly “pump iron” shortly before going out to meet someone, especially of a romantic interest! We just wanna look our best. So I do this, too? Guilty!
If I were some hulking great big monster I probably wouldn’t bother, but I’m 6ft tall, and have too much body fat to be comfortable going around in tight, flashy shirts; I’m probably too reserved for that stuff anyway.
My Baldness Is Not Entirely by Choice
I tend to tell people I chose to be bald, and that I love it. My head isn’t super-shiny, but it’s still about as bald as you can get with a regular electric razor.
The thing is, I have something called folliculitis, described as “inflammation of the hair follicles,” so it’s easier for me to have no hair than the nice long hair I had some years ago. Folliculitis essentially means pain, potential for a spotty mess if I let it grow out and stop treating it, and, in my case, a frequent need for a cream in order to treat it.
While I did initially choose baldness as an escape from the very long hair I once had, I’m not exactly choosing to stay bald. Luckily, I think I pull it off quite well. I just hope being bald doesn’t make me look terminally ill or as though I’m so old that my hair has abandoned me.
The Magic of a Ring
For a while now, I’ve always worn a silver ring on my right hand. I sometimes like to imagine what it would be like to have a wedding ring on the left. I might even put the ring on the finger for the full effect.
Maybe I’m being a bit girly—I should probably go chug some strong whiskey and talk about big boobs while whistling at random women who walk by, but I don’t drink whiskey.