Hair

Due to the recent lack of non-lame content on this blog, I present to you the hair from the bathtub drain:
You see, one of the downsides to living with a bunch of girls is the almost unfathomable amount of hair that they shed. It's everywhere. You'll find it in the bathroom in larger quantities, mostly all over the floor with a ridiculous amount wrapped around the hair brushes, but it also pops up in many other places: clinging to your shirt, in Nash's mouth and/or grubby little hands, in your dinner. I can stomach a lot of things. Conversation about gross stuff does not affect me when I'm eating. I've eaten (usually for money) live bugs, dead bugs, bloody meat runoff juice from the roast beef at Subway (for $20 when I worked there when I was 16), and I've drunk muddy water pulled up from a well out in the middle of some poor farmer's field somewhere in the middle of the province of Chaco, Argentina in the 120 degree heat. Hair in your food is worse than all of them.

After the girls get out of the tub we create our traditional post-bath hairball out of the hair that did not escape into the drain to join its friends in the mass resembling a dead mouse that hangs on for dear life just below the surface. The hairball consists mostly of hair from Whytli's booshy (I know I spelled that wrong - that's how I like to say it) mane and admire it before we throw it away. If you're lucky I'll snap a picture of one of them sometime soon and post it. And, every few months when the bathtub drain appears to not be doing its job very well, I grab the needle-nose pliers and extract one of the little beauties pictured above. Make sure to click on it to see it in all of its glory.

It's probably worse than having dogs. I honestly do not understand how they are not all bald.