I don’t like that I’ve reached the age where I have nose hair. I always thought it was something that happens when you to about, ooh, 65, but apparently not. Nose hair growage starts at 26. Great. All you bloody women who go on about eyebrows, and shaving, and all that…other stuff (I don’t want to wax lyrical about it), count yourselves lucky. Pulling a nose hair is like flipping a switch thats connected to such diverse things as eye-watering, sneezing, and oh, don’t forget – A LOT OF PAIN.
What’s the point, anyway? I reckon it’s just the testosterone getting a bit bored of sloshing about doing nothing except causing the odd comedy erection (possibly in Tesco’s, or when you’re at the Post Office behind some old dears picking up their pension.) so it decides to divert its energies into nose hair. In my case, I suspect that some of the hair is on holiday from my head, probably trying to get out of the rain. It’s not even as if there’s lots of space in my nose – it isn’t an especially large nose. Pinocchio I am not.
I guess sometimes silly things annoy me. I feel better now, though. I could go on about other stuff that annoys me, but on that particular topic I’d probably just get a bit more annoyed until I reach the ‘vexed’ stage, at which point steam starts coming out of my ears and my nose hair grows so fast that it looks like I have one of those mexican moustaches.
Talking of which – must dash 😉