OMG! I Am So Hot!

My fiancée, Meggie, is always cramping my style when it comes to my bodily hair growth.  She complains that I don’t cut my hair or shave often enough.  Listen, Meggie, if God did not want me to be hairy, he would have made me an Asian.  I have way more important things to do than to sit around all day shaving and getting my haircut.  For instance, what if there was a burning building with a whole bunch of crying kittens whose smiles cured AIDS and nobody except me was around to save them?  What would happen if I was standing around shaving my beard and cutting my hair?  Those kittens would burn alive in that building, and then everyone in Africa would die from AIDS.  Great, there are a whole bunch of crispy felines in a building and everyone in Africa just died of the HIV.  Now I’m an animal killer and a racist.  I tried explaining this to Meggie.  I pleaded with her – you know, for the kittens and for the Africans.  It didn’t work.  Then Meggie dropped some serious science on me.  She said she would not cook dinner for me anymore if I did not shave.  Boooya!  Meggie:1, David: 0.  Listen, I care just as much about kittens and AIDS in Africa as anyone, but I needs to eat.  Sorry kittens.  Sorry Africa.

So, I went and got my haircut.  Let me tell you, the $11.00 haircut at Great Clips truly exemplifies the company’s name.  My haircut was beautiful.  I went home and shaved, meticulously trimming every follicle to perfection.  Then I finished, looked in the mirror and…

Oh.

My.

God.

I AM SO FUCKING HANDSOME!!!!!

I checked the mirror to make sure that it was working right.  I mean, I know I am a stud, but this haircut and shave…  It was magical.  I was a goddamned Adonis.

I took about 20 minutes to try and get over myself, but it was impossible.  I finally came to grips with the fact that I might be the most gorgeous person in the world, left the bathroom and went to sit down and watch T.V.

That was a bad idea.  No matter what I did, I couldn’t focus on America’s Wildest Police Chases 32.  All I could focus on was my reflection in the T.V.  I started getting a bit of a chubby.  I thought to myself, “Holy crap.  I’m gay for myself.  This is unprecedented!”

Meggie walked into the apartment and found me licking the television.  She took one look at me, had an immediate girlgasm and passed out in her soaked jeans.

I went to sleep that night and dreamt of myself.

When I walked into the office the next day, my boss came up to me and told me to go home and change.  Apparently coming to work in boxer shorts and a wife-beater is unacceptable.  I came back to work, sat down at my desk and started doing my little job.  Throughout the say, I noticed more and more people passing by my office and taking a look at me.  Those prying eyes.  They could only be for one reason.  My coworkers had never cast a glimpse a pure beauty.  One of my coworkers told me that they had once had a religious experience and that it had been the most wondrous experience of their lives.  Then they took a look at me and decided they hated God for lying to them about true beauty.  Shortly after this, I grabbed a mop and cleaned up all the drool and other bodily fluids that had spilled along the entrance to my office.  I sat down and tried to gather my bearings.  Just as I was settled back in, my boss came in and found me in my underwear and wifebeater again.  I told him I had no idea how it happened.  He told me to go home.

Whatever, Jealous.

I’m thinking about taking some time off.  I need to go on a retreat or something.  I just got assaulted by a gang of Catholic schoolgirls outside and my voicemail is filled with messages from modeling agents who want to plaster my face all over magazines and billboards in Times Square.

God I am HAWT.

- David C. Garcia