Why do guys find hairlessness unmanly and therefore, repellent?
Other than that on top of one’s head, hair is really very terribly unattractive. Why, WHY do people insist on keeping those below their nose, on their chin, under their armpits, on their chest, and on their legs? Yes, they might make you look “manly” but really, there’s nothing pleasing, aesthetically or otherwise, about that “manliness”. *shudder*
One of the perpetual questions swimming in my head:
Where is the line between idiocy and courage?
Quoted from the delightfully (a)moral Ms. Cobra, who quoted it from our online chat:
Me: how is it that you keep going from one relationship to another?
Me: and enduring the same kind of fights over and over again?
Cob: maybe I’m just stupid
Me: or courageous
Cob: or a fucking idiot
Me: or a fucking braveheart
During lunch yesterday at a supposedly cheap fast food restaurant which apparently was (and is) not very cheap, Ms. Cobra and I came to the following conclusion:
I don’t know why there’s such a horrible stigma stuck on it despite the fact that without it mankind would have a very tough time keeping their existence on earth. Because then people would only mate with attractive-looking people. And, using school biology textbooks as reference, seems like there were hardly any attractive human beings back in the beginning of humanity so… We are all able to exist thanks to the wonder that is lust.
I sincerely and almost-completely believe that God is punishing me for being a vain person. Well. Not that it’s uncalled for.
There’s a little bit of (Gackt’s) Malice’s sound in Arashi’s Wanna Be… (how are you supposed to write a title with a dot in a sentence?). Made me a little happy.
Symptoms of even the lowest level of personality disorders are so ubiquitous they should stop calling it ‘disorder’ and start calling it ‘normality’, with cluster C being the most normal behavioural sets, B slightly less normal, A quite less normal.
That should solve the whole stigma-on-mental-health-disorders problem.
The implication of her reprimand being it’s okay for boys to get up late whereas it’s not okay for girls to do the same. Gender inequality takes on the strangest form. It is rather impressive.
Akh, I miss reading. I miss reading for the sake of knowing what’s going to happen next in the story, reading due to being caught in the flow of the story. The childish childish child in me is sick of reading because of the book is supposedly good and full of knowledge. (For some reason I am currently reading Nietzsche’s Beyond Good and Evil *bangs head* and Ensler’s The Vagina Monologues, which, despite my overflowing interest in sex, I find not very fun. Slightly amusing at times, though.) And the cheap cheap cheap-skate in me wishes someone would get me a Kindle so I could read (free) ebooks. Or, better yet, an unlimited-yet-magnificently-organized collection of books.
