Renaissance Man: The Multifaceted Wonderment of a Down There Hair
On Monday morning, I arrived at work and found a pube sitting on my desk.
No, I don’t know how it got there. Yes, I took a picture of it:
Then, because I needed validation from the Internet at large that this was the grossest thing ever to happen in the history of office jobs and pubes, I plastered it all over Facebook and Twitter. While I was busy taking to my desk with Lysol and a blowtorch, Act Classy’s own kdiddy worked some magic in an attempt to make the pube pic a touch more palatable:
Well, now, if that isn’t the best example of turning pubes into…pubenade, I don’t know what is. Kdiddy’s masterpiece reminded me that sometimes we have to manufacture our own sunshine (i.e., humorous pictures of pubes) when the world gets us down (i.e., dumps strange pubes on our desks). Because I love you and I want you to be happy, I decided to take this idea and run with it, tackling the challenge of transforming this mere pube into a virtual pube of all trades. Let it serve as a reminder to all of us that–no matter how humble and genital-adjacent our origins–we can strive to be anything we want to be…provided we’re not swallowed or washed down Billy Joel’s shower drain.
How will our pube re-invent himself next? Let’s begin!
The 80s are alive and well for our own little Tommy Pube-tone and the famous digits of his paramour, Jenny. I don’t know about you guys, but I never realized that Tommy Tutone looked so perpetually uncomfortable and/or constipated. Also, that’s…that’s quite some hair. The more I look at this photo, the more I realize that Tommy Tutone probably just stood over my desk and shook his head. I can’t really decide if that would be better or worse.
From extreme hair to extreme mustaches, here we have the ever-delightful SteamPube. It’s history! It’s fantasy! It’s…a hair that used to be next to someone’s underpants. Gross.
Oh, Hang in There Kitty, you always know just when to cheer me up! How can anyone feel discouraged by the presence of an unsightly pube when it’s also a wittle kitty paw?
Yeah, me too.
WHOOOOOOA! Hold on tight, time travelers, because this post is about to go back…to whatever time that pube wants, I guess.
When I first saw it lingering there on my desk, I couldn’t help but notice the nurturing posture of the pube as I backed away, violently dry-heaving. It seemed only natural to let the pube experience the joy of motherhood via an abstract sculpture. Oh, don’t give me that look. You know as well as I do that the pube could out-parent 98% of the mothers in Wal-Mart at any given time.
Oh, Vincent. You cut off your ear for a lady (…or you just randomly handed it to a prostitute — the Internet is very confused about you, Vince!), and a couple bottles of Yellow Tail and three days later, you’re feeling pretty dumb and full of regret. We’ve all been there! Luckily for you, I know a certain little pube who might be able to right some wrongs. A seamless replacement! And don’t worry about the ladies — you’ll have another bird whispering sweet nothings in your…pube in no time.
Well, Act Classy-ers, that’s I was able to come up with in the three hours of my life I wasted creating this post. How do you imagine our curly little friend? Leave your suggestions (or link to your own original images)(of this pube in funny situations, not of your own pubes, you weirdo) in the comments!
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Julie
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SF_Reader
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Shelli










