Fuzzed Forearms And The Men That Love Them

The internet is a wondrous thing. With it we can have the most basic goods and services delivered to our doorstep, communicate with friends long scattered to the wind, entertain ourselves for hours at the expense of our fellow man, and most importantly indulge our most deviant, disgusting fantasies.

You see, I have long thought that I was alone in my desire for a companion upon whom I could lavish a bouqet of adorable ape-centric pet names. As I laid awake at night, dreaming of women with long braids of silken arm-hair from which I might lazily swing, I was filled with a deep shame, compounded by the seemingly singular nature of my peccadilloes. Thankfully, the festering primordial stew that is our collective electronic Id proves its worth once more, serving up a cornucopia of my beastly heart’s desire.

No longer am I filled with shame, disgust yes, fear possibly, but not shame. The sun shines and the birds sing as arm in arm my deviant brethren march into a future bereft of lonely shame, upper lips stiffened at the knowledge that we are not alone.

Girls with hairy arms [HugoStrikesBack]