I love hair. I just can't get enough of the stuff. I love to play with it. I love to eat it. I love to pull it out. I especially love to eat it, right after I play with it for a second and pull it out. Arm hair, head hair, dog hair, clumps of hair I find on the ground; I'm not picky; I love it all. No one seems to understand my fascination with the stringy stuff. In fact everyone gets down right mean when I find it. If I try to eat it, they yank it out of my mouth. If I play with it, they take it away. If I pull it out fresh from the source, they yell and wail. It's a constant battle, but you'll be happy to know that usually I am victorious.
Sunday, December 30
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